Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Back to Sixth Grade

Back to Sixth Grade
By: Ivan Adams

   I don’t know what came over me that night. I was sitting there with my best friend, Joel. You must be asking where’s there. Sometimes I get ahead of myself, I’ll always come back to where I’m supposed to be though. Anyway there was a very popular hang out in all of our small town of Georgetown. The joint was called Freeloader. Sure, it had all the newest games out and was just the rave, but I’m not too much of a gamer.
    Back to what I was saying about that day. (I warned you.) Sitting up at the soda table with Joel, I was writing in a new notebook I had just got for my seventeenth birthday. It was in that moment that a boy caught my attention. Oh no, not just any guy, but the cutest guy I had ever laid my eyes on, Zeek. My sleek enjoyment was put on pause when Joel slammed his cup down on the table.
    “Ian, you aren’t looking at Zeek again, are you?” Joel’s eyes were wild.
    My whole body dropped, causing me to sink down low in my chair. As hard as it was to take my gaze off of Zeek, I knew I had to. But there was a distinct moment that Zeek’s beautiful blue eyes caught mine. A small smile formed on his face. Then he turned to his friends.
    Joel hit my arm as hard as he could. “Bitch, that hurt!” I yelled.
    I pushed my glasses back up where they belonged because they fell a little when I yelled.
    “You have got to stop staring at that boy. If Ryan catches you looking at him, he’s going to beat the shit out of you.” Joel only spoke the truth. Ryan had already threatened me when I came out.
    You see, Ryan was a typical straight jock. Being in my grade and every class I’ve ever been in, I learned how big of a jerk he really was. There was nothing nice about him whatsoever. And my infatuation was with his fourteen-year-old brother, who was nothing like Ryan, was an ongoing problem that year.
    “Come on, Joel! Don’t you think the boy is absolutely beautiful?” My voice was dreamy.
    “Um–he’s fourteen,” Joel said in a manner of disgust.
    I buried my head in my hands. Then a thought came to me, “how do you know that he’s only fourteen?”
    “Fuck, Ian. Maybe because you remind me every day!” Joel picked his cup up and took a sip of his drink.
    (Oh yeah, Joel’s gay too. Oops . . . I didn’t even tell you that I’m gay! What a riot. We actually came out together. But we totally don’t even have feelings for one another. We’re best friends, duh! The fact that we’re both gay might be the reason we became so close.)
    I rolled my eyes. “I’m getting another Pepsi.”
    Walking through the stuffed room of people playing games, talking loudly, and slightly dancing to the overly loud music, was a challenge in itself. Luckily, I made it to the counter. Shit, there was the school slut, Phiona. When she opened her mouth, I wanted to put a gun in mine.
    “Ian,” she screeched in the high pitch that only she could hit. She made me almost hate my name. Then she got supper slutty. “So,” she flicked her eyebrows, “what can I get you?”
    “A Pepsi,” I said flatly.
    After filling my cup up, she gave me the total. I was sure that she gave me a discount that she shouldn’t have. When was she going to wake up and realize that I’m gay and she can never ever have me? I shoved the correct amount in her hand and tried to get away as quickly as I could. But, sure enough, (and this upsets me to think about), I ran directly into Zeek, spilling a part of my Pepsi on his very expensive looking, Abercombie shirt. I thought I was going to die then and there. To my surprise, Zeek laughed it off. He grabbed up some napkins and whipped his shirt off.
    “You’re Ian, right?” That voice was enough to make my hairs stand on end: sensual and calming. Swoon.
    All I could manage was a slight nod.
    He moved in close to my ear to be heard over the loud music. “My brother’s a prick. I hear him talk about you and your friend, Joel, all the time, calling you fags and such. I don’t know why he has to be so mean. I just want to say sorry for him.” His breath was blowing softly on my ear. I could feel a rise starting in my pants. Shit! I had to get out of there. Yet, I wanted to stay and talk to this boy all night. Urges started to come over me. I wanted to take the boy that instant and put him on the counter and fuck the hell out of him, by force if necessary.
    I looked over Zeek’s shoulder. Double shit! Ryan was walking our way.
    With a quick maneuver, I was back in my seat with Joel. I thought that I was off the hook, but sure enough Ryan was on his way over. He stealthfully took a seat across from me. “Hey fag, don’t ever go near my little brother again.” Then, he quickly wondered off.
    Like expected, Joel started in on me. “You’re flirting with danger by flirting with that boy–”
    I tuned him out. Rubbing my face, a realization hit me; I had just been thinking about raping someone. Yes, I like Zeek a lot. Oh, the Lord knows how much I lust for Zeek, but I totally wouldn’t want to hurt him. On the contrary, I just wanted to be passionate with him. It’s just, at times my hormones rage and I want to have sex badly. Okay, I may just look like I want to get laid, but the truth is, it’s really hard to be one of the only virgins in my whole class. Even Joel has had sex with some guy that he met last summer. I just felt so alone.
    My attention came back to Joel just as he was saying, “please just leave him alone.”
    This last statement pissed me off. “Fuck off,” I said with malice. Then, I left Freeloader as my anger rose.
    When I got into my car, I slammed the door. Taking a breath, I started my car. My knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel so hard. So, I had to loosen my grip.
    Before I knew it, I was in the next town. The town was a total shopping district. I found an empty parking lot and parked.
    Walking down the sidewalk and looking into all the shops didn’t seem to be making me feel better. I couldn’t take my mind off how much a douche bag Joel was being. Don’t get me wrong, Joel’s my best friend, and I care about what he said, but he was totally wrong about judging my feelings. Something compelled me to Zeek. A deep affinity. He was just so—adorable. Maybe Joel thought that I just wanted him because I wanted to get under Ryan’s skin. On the contrary, I wish that Ryan wasn’t even his brother. Why was I even worrying about this? The truth of the matter was that Zeek was probably straight. And I would never get a chance with him even if he was gay.
    Oh my, look at those shoes, I thought. Yes, I went into the shop to buy the shoes. Upon my significant find, I remembered what Zeek had said to me earlier. Maybe there was a slim chance that he could be gay. Or maybe he thought that Ryan just calling me a fag out of nowhere. How could I tell?
    Luckily, buying the shoes brought my mood up loads. It was definitely the best thing for me to do. God, I just always feel so frustrated in life. I have no outlet whatsoever.

    Parking in my lonely driveway, I went into a darkened house. I suppose I was out later than I expected to be out. There was a note on my door saying that Joel had called three times and that someone had came by the house to see me, but mom didn’t know who it was. That was just weird to me. I crumpled up the note because Joel’s name was on it. Maybe I was over reacting, but I didn’t really care.
    Unbuttoning my shirt, I started getting ready for bed. I let my shirt fall to the floor and removed my pants after that. Being so late, I felt a little too tired to put on basketball shorts, so I just get into bed in my orange briefs.
    Lying in my bed alone, I felt depleted. The air around me felt dank. Darkness fell all around me. I pulled the blankets up over me as much as I could. Feeling of shame came across me for being so self-absorbed in my desires for Zeek.

    When my alarm clock went off the next morning, I was pissed. I grumbled a little, looking for my glasses. My body creaked as I stretched. The loud buzzing of the alarm clock was getting on my nerves though. Angrily, I pushed the off button. Of course, of all days, the water for my shower was cold. Then I nicked myself as I shaved. I knew at that point I was going to have a great day.
    The day only improved as I got to school. (Oh, did I tell you that I’m slightly sarcastic too?) Right away, Bertha walked up to me. Her name’s actually Jillian, but she’s a fat bitch that puts her nose in everyone’s business just because she’s the top of the academics in our school. All hail the Queen of Brown-nosing.
    She ran me right into my locker, nearly knocking the glasses off my face. “Where were you last night? I came to your house to go over our plans on our project.” She was horridly historical.
    Oops, I thought. My eyes darted to the floor. I’m not exactly sure why. I suppose that I was looking for a doughnut to shove down her throat. Maybe the lard ass would get off my case without being quite so rude then. “Shit. I totally forgot about that.” I ran my hand though my hair rashly, to make it look like I actually cared.
    She started poking her porky finger into my skinny body. “We’ll have to make it tonight then. This time, to make sure you will be there, you are going to be coming over to my house.”
    That was just what I needed. Something else to make my life more miserable.
    “I don’t even care that it’s a Friday. You will be helping in this project. Besides, it would be known if I did it all myself. Though, it would be perfect then.” She abruptly turned around and marched down the hall. Watching her ass flab up all around made my whole face scrunch up as if I had just eaten a limon.
    Then, the second attack happened. Joel came merrily strolling over to me. His pretend-nothing-happened-the-night-before-approach was not going to work this time. I was so ticked off at him that there was no way he was getting off easily.
    “Joel, I don’t have time for this right now.” Pushing past him, I walked as quickly down the hall as I could.
    Now, walking down the hallway was always a problem for me. People always threw their shoulders into my chest calling me fag and queer. Um, I should say the jock guys, especially Ryan. Jerks! Whatever, I was so pissed, I didn’t even really notice. It’s very likely I pushed back from my foul mood.
    Most of that day was a blur to me. Luckily Joel and I didn’t have any classes together. At one point, though, the whole day came into perspective. I opened my locker and there was a note in it. In all my years in school, I’ve never received a note in my locker. My heart leapt as I picked it up and started to unfold it. Naturally, Zeek was the first person to pop up in my mind. No, it was from Joel. Great!

Ian,
Please don’t ignore me. I’m sorry about the things I said. I should give you more respect for having a crush and sticking to it. I just assume that you want to have sex with him and then be done with him. I see now that that isn’t the case. I’ve never seen you so mad at me. Please forgive me. I’m just worried about you falling for a 14 year old when you’re 17. Ian, I just don’t want to see you hurt. I love you, my best friend. Friends?
                                Joel

    I felt like such and an idiot. Duh, Zeek didn’t even go to the same school I go to. He’s not a freshman yet. In that very moment, I realized my whole world was starting to crash down. Somehow, I had become completely obsessed over a boy that I hardly knew. Not to mention that I was mad at my best friend for seemingly not caring about my feelings. Most of all, his brother would kill me if he even knew. So, I knew that I had to do the hardest thing ever and just get over Zeek.
    I needed a release. Something compelled me to get back into my locker, pull out my scissors, and shove them in my pocket. Luckily the first bathroom that I checked out was empty. Just in case anyone were to walk in, I went inside a stall. With the scissors in my hand, I was about an inch from my flesh with the sharp end. I couldn’t do it. I was just too scared to hurt myself. Damn.

    Later on that day I made up with Joel. Being mad at Joel was like being mad at a puppy. At first it’s easy to be mad at a puppy when it does something wrong, but then they give you those cute little puppy eyes and is too cute to stay mad at. And (I roll my eyes even now saying this) Joel was too cute to be mad at. Um, in a friend way. If you don’t know that I’m totally stuck on Zeek by now, then you need to just quit reading. Not just this. Anything. Plot doesn’t become you very well.
    Anyway...
    You know that feeling you have right before you’re going to throw-up? Yeah, I was having that as I walked up to Jillian’s house. A part of me was still worried about if Joel had been serious about his apology. All of me hoped he was. Only a part of me knew that he was.
    Being at Jillian’s house was the worst thing for me at that particular time. I couldn’t really concentrate on the project. Zeek and Joel were revolving in my head. Well, that and the fact that Jillian’s house smelled horrible! Not to mention that even Jillian had had sex. Who the hell would want to fuck that lard ass? Oh yeah, the chess captain, Knight Pimple. (Technically his name was Wade, but nobody really knew that.)
    Jillian and I had spent a lot of time just to finish up the project that night. No one must have told her that I’m gay because she hit on me too much. Naturally, not many people talked to her anyway. Maybe the memo didn’t go to the nerd table.

    Joel called me shortly after I woke up at ten on Saturday morning. He was wanting me to go to Freeloader with him that night. At first, I was skeptical to even go. Where was I to believe that it would be any different from two nights before?
    For some reason, I ended up going. Joel and I sat at our normal table. Things were still somewhat awkward between Joel and myself. Joel took the liberty of getting drinks for the two of us. Having a moment to myself. I reached down for my backpack to get out my notebook to start writing a bit. About that time, Zeek walked in the door. My heart nearly failed. Well, it at least  missed a few beats. For a split second I thought that Zeek was actually walking my way, but then seemed to turn at the last second. My heart sank and I started breathing again.
    Joel was back with the drinks. “Lover boy’s here.” He sat down, nodding his head toward Zeek. As if I hadn’t seen him. What was Joel thinking, honestly?
    “Shut up.” I whispered snidely.
    “Sorry?” There was an uncertainty to Joel. He quickly tried to change the subject. “How was Bertha last night?”
    “Oh God, Joel. It smelled like someone had just died in her house.” I scrunched up my nose.
    Joel laughed.
    “It’s not funny.” A smile slowly formed on my face.
    “Finally!”
    “What?”
    “You’re looking happy again. All the hostility was killing me!” Joel crossed his arm in his fake pout.
    Quickly looking over what I had just written, I started to write again. After writing a page, Joel started squirming. I looked up at him. He was looking at the door. So, I looked too. His ex boyfriend had just walked into the room and he was walking our way. Naturally, Joel was pulled away from the table. The fag gave me an I-just-took-your-man-away-from-you look. (So, I know fag is totally offensive, but when a guy prances around and acts like he’s the best thing in the world, yeah.) Poor Joel looked as if he were being taken off to prison.
    I immersed myself back into my writing. When I write, I focus so intently on what I’m doing that the world around me just kind of disappears. So, it wasn’t a surprise when I got shaken from what I was doing when a timid voice piped up. “What are you writing there?”
    Before looking up I know the voice. Terror stuck me when I saw who it was. Zeek was standing right next to me. My heart was trying to pound right though my chest. I geekily smiled at him. “Nothing.” The truth was, he made me feel like a sixth-grader again, as my first real guy crush.
    Then, he invited himself to sit down. “Come on, it can’t be nothing.” He tried to read it, but I shut it.
    “Why are you sitting with me?” It came out of my mouth much worse than I meant for it to.
    His shoulders dropped. “My friends aren’t here yet, and you kind of ran off in the middle of our conversation the other day.”
    I looked down. “Yeah, your brother promised that he’ll beat me up if I talk to you.”
    “What?!?” He put his hand on my shoulder. I looked up, into his eyes. “I’m my own person. I’ll have a talk to him later. He seems to think that if I were to talk to a gay person, they would make me gay. But trust me, talking to you isn’t going to make me gay.”
    That was it, my heart flopped. The boy I wanted more than anything else was straight. A defeated look must of came across my face because he asked, “are you okay?”
    I clinched my eyes shut, then opened them. “Uh . . . yeah. I just had a big thing of pizza and a large Pepsi. I feel like a total heifer.” My face went completely flush. Did I just say that? That made me start beating myself up on the inside. Stupid!
    Zeek laughed. “That was last night for me. I just kept eating. But with track practice all the time, I get so hungry.”
    The boy of my dreams had just saved me from my own humiliation. A half-smile came to my face. “Track, huh?” Yes, a distracting topic!
    His eyes darted to the door. A group of his friends walked though the door. “Oh shoot.  I’ve got to go.” With that he was gone.
    I watched him walk away. Before he was completely out of my life again, he glanced back at me and smiled brightly. Then he didn’t look or talk to me for the rest of the time I was there.
    Joel came back soon after. “What was that?” Excitement filled his eyes.
    “I’m not sure, but I’m sure he’s straight now.”
    “Hum...”
    “It’s like he tries to torture me. What is he getting at?”
    Joel just shrugged.
    “Shit! What was the talk with your ex all about?” I had almost forgotten.
    Joel just rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you later. I’m not sure yet.”
    I didn’t want to let it go, but I knew there was no point in trying to get anything out of him. Once Joel has his mind made up, there’s nothing anyone could do about it.
    Neither of us said another word of it the rest of the night.

    Two weeks went by me. Two weeks of nothingness. Two weeks of feeling like I was being punished. Punished for something I didn’t even do. Unless liking someone was a crime these days.
    I had heard nothing from Zeek since that Saturday at Freeloader. I was beginning to feel like I was never going to hear from him again. Who was I fooling? Every ounce of me knew that Zeek was straight, but I wasn’t willing to accept that. He was truly someone that I admired and I didn’t want to give him up that easily. At least not yet. I was holding onto a glimmer that he might, just might, be gay. Something told me not to discredit my feelings for him just yet.
    Every fiber in my body made me attracted to this boy. No explanation. Fuck. He’s straight. I might as well have just slit my wrists that very second. I so wasn’t that desperate!
    Why was I the only person to feel punished for nothing? So what if he’s fourteen! Age is only a number, but sexuality is a thing in life that I can’t change and have no power over. I wanted to give up. Instead, I went on a walk to clear my head.
    Aa I went on my walk, anger swelled up inside me. That very moment, the way I was feeling and hardly paying attention to where I was going, I ran into him. The paper boy. I was so angry that I hadn’t even notice him. Then, he handed me a paper. If I had to guess, I think he thought I lived at the house I was in front of. Still, I was drawn to open it up. On the front page was Zeek with his track team. He had been practicing and at meets all this time. How stupid of me to forget that. I should go to one of his meets.
    That night I went to Freeloader alone and Zeek finally made an appearance. Personally, I wasn’t expecting to see him. The desire to write came over me and my muse seemed to inspire me more there. That’s the reason why I decided to even go. Anyway, Zeek looked extremely out of it. He just sat down at a table by himself and laid his head down. As I observed him, I started to realize something was wrong. His back was moving up and down in a manner that alluded to one thing; he was crying. I had to do something. If any of his teammates or friends were to have come in when he was in this state, he would have been ridiculed for sure.
    Cautiously, I walked up to his table. Laying a hand on his shoulder, I asked, “is everything okay?”
    Zeek’s head bounced up savagely. “What do you want? I said leave me . . . ” His puffy eyes looked up into mine. His cheeks were stained with tears. He went sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”
    “Come on, lets get out of here. You look like you need to talk to someone in a less chaotic environment. I have good listening ears.” I was cautious about what I was saying to not look like I was hitting on him, but truly trying to help.
    The air outside was humid, like after a spring shower. Zeek and I walked down the road a long time before we stopped in a very quiet place to talk. When we finally stopped, we sat down in the grass cross-legged, facing each other. Laying my notebook beside me, I watched and waited patiently as Zeek picked at the grass.
    “Ian.” He looked up at me, but fell silent again.
    After some quick thinking, I said, “it’s okay. I’m here for you.”
    The turmoil that he was in made him even more cute. Then, he started squirming. “Okay,” he sighed. “It’s like this. I’m so stressed out. My English class is killing me. And track is like taking over my life.” He ran his fingers though his hair, roughly. “Everyone is expecting something big from me. It’s just too much.” He huffed, then looked at me.
    “Would you like some help in English? I love English.” Oh God, I sounded too eager.
    “You do write a lot. Would you—” he mumbled. “Would you help me?”
    “Yeah, of course.” There I went again, damn, but wait, he was smiling.
    “Cool!” He said excitedly. Then, his smile started to fade.
    “Is there something else?”
    “Um, yes. There’s this.” Scratching his head, he paused. It was no ordinary pause, but a much-too-long one. “There’s this girl. I really like her, but she’s a little older than I am and I’m not sure that she’d like me.”
    My heart sank. I wanted to start crying then and there, but I had to stay strong for Zeek’s sake. “How old is she?” Sounded like a reasonable question.
    “Seventeen, I think.”
    Now I was intrigued. “Who is she?” What the heck, I may know her. She could even be in my class.
    Zeek blushed. Unable to do anything else, I gasped for air. This was the first time I had witnessed the boy of my affection in a vulnerable state. “Um. Can I tell you later?” He squinted.
    Those words caught me off guard, but I still said, “yeah, sure.”
    “I’m turning fifteen in a month, do you think it would be possible?” His innocent eyes were focused on my lips, yearning for the next words I was about to say.
    “Age is only a number,” I shrugged.
    A smile quickly appeared on his face. “Ian, you’re a good friend.” For a brief second, he paused. “Can I get your number?”
    Was he coming on to me? I looked at him in a daze.
    “For English tutoring? If you’re still willing, that is.” He looked away, as if saddened by something deep-rooted.
    “Oh, yeah.” Picking up my notebook, I ripped off a little piece of paper from the last page and wrote my number on it.
    “Thanks.” He smiled brightly.
    At last, we decided to go back to Freeloader so we both could get home.

    Later that night, I called Joel from home. There was a certain amount of relief in Joel’s voice when I told him that Zeek liked an older girl. Yet, he was supportive about me helping Zeek with his English problems.
    Then Joel told me that he was getting back with his skeezy ex. I was tempted to tell Joel how bad Tom was for him, but I knew that I would sound just like him about me and Zeek. I was a bit heartbroken about finding out about his crush anyway. A true friend is someone that is supportive no matter what.
    A part of me felt completely lost and hopeless as I went to bed that night. Something needed to happen soon. I needed to get Zeek off my fucking mind. Everywhere I turned, he was there. Even my main character in the newest story I was writing was becoming more and more like Zeek every day. Could I be this desperately stuck on a human being? Though, it would make sense if Zeek would become someone that I was actually in love with.
    Being drained, I laid down on my bed and instantly fell asleep. Something that didn’t normally happen.

    Not too long after the next day started, I had a feeling I might be able to get Zeek out of my head. With much enthusiasm, Joel told me that he and his boyfriend, Tom, had a perfect guy for me, Cody. They entertained the idea of the four of us going out to dinner, on a sort of double date. The only reason I agreed was because my obsession over Zeek was no longer healthy for me. (Why the fuck couldn’t I just have what I wanted?!?!)
    So, I went out that night with Cody, Joel, and Tom. The thought of Tom made me sick because he cheated on Joel the last time they were together. To bad I knew he would do it again. However, I was supportive.
    Anyway, there’s the matter of Cody. He was . . . cute, but he didn’t have what Zeek had. He was slightly shorter than I, his eyes were a dull brown, and his hair was a wavy, dirty blond. Nothing about him compared to Zeek though. Don’t get me wrong, Cody would have been a total catch for me, but he didn’t have that spark to him that Zeek had. Like when Zeek walks in the room, he exudes radiance. His blue eyes sparkled like the ocean water in Florida when the sun shines at that perfect angle. Then, there’s his beautiful brown, spiked hair that looks like there’s never a hair in the wrong place. The clothes that he wears match to the last detail, even the earring he wears in the upper part of his left ear matches the color of his shirt. (Even his gum is the same color.) And most of all, I knew that he had to have a body that he’s been working on between swimming and track. Rumor had it that his family had a tanning bed. And yes, he was very tan.
    I found myself getting a boner as I thought of him. Oops, I realized I hadn’t been paying attention to anything anyone had been saying, but it didn’t look like Cody had said anything yet.
    As the night progressed, I realized that Cody was a huge nerd. We really hit it off when we started talking about English books written in the Victorian age. But even more-so when we were talking about Shakespeare.
    The four of us were having a great time, but we were done eating and didn’t want to just sit there. The waitress was starting to look a little impatient with us. So, we all decided to go to Freeloader to just talk some more.
    Walking into Freeloader, I was laughing at a Shakespeare joke that Cody had just told me, when everything collapsed on me. I hadn’t been expecting it, but Zeek was there. Everything was awkward at first. Joel gave me a stern look and whispered, “please don’t screw things up with Cody, because you know you can’t have him.”
    Right after he said that, I felt really hurt, but upon reflection, I knew that he was right. I didn’t have a shot with Zeek. I tried to ignore the fact that he was there. But I noticed him go up to the counter and get a drink. He seemed to be making some small talk with Phiona. She actually looked like she was enjoying him. Suddenly, she gave him a quizzical look. Then, Zeek turned around to look at me. I looked away, but still had my eyes on him to where he didn’t know I was looking at him. Forcefully, he gave money to Phiona, took his drink, and headed for the door. Throwing his drink in the trash by the exit, he stormed out of Freeloader. Something squeezed on my hand. I hadn’t even realized that Cody was, in a way, holding onto my hand. Of course, I had felt something on my hand, but didn’t care to look. Feeling awkward, I got up and gave Cody a snide look. Not being able to hold myself back, I went after Zeek.
    The outside was dark. If it weren’t for hearing Zeek soft sobs, I wouldn’t have been able to find him. When I got close, I sat down next to him.
    “What do you want?” He asked viciously.
    I nearly fell backward. “What’s going on?”
    “Sorry. So, who’s that guy?”
    “His name’s Cody. Some guy Joel was trying to hook me up with, but he’s not my type. Wait! You’re trying to get me off topic, what’s wrong?” I asked with concern.
    “Oh, I think I got denied.”
    “Phiona?” I asked in shock.
    He didn’t say anything, but I thought I saw a brief nod.
    “You’re lucky then. Rumor has it that she masturbates in the tanning bed at the new tanning place. She probably has an arm tan-line on her belly to prove it.”
    Zeek let out a big laugh. He looked down at the ground, then back at me. “Ian?”
    I looked into his eyes.  He had something on the tip of his tongue. Our eyes were connected in a moment of pure beauty. For a second I thought he was about to lean in and kiss me. Of course, I’m sure it was my imagination running away with me. My deepest desire was to share that kiss.
    “Um . . . do you think . . . ” He just stopped talking altogether.
    After waiting for an answer and being denied, I spoke instead. “Go ahead, Zeek. Ask what you need?”
    He bit his lip. “Do you think I’m old enough to know what I want?”
    I looked at him sternly. “I knew what I wanted when I was your age. I’m not for sure that I knew it was a guy that I wanted, but I knew I wanted love, I guess.” I blushed and looked down at the ground.
    Zeek put his hand on my shoulder. He smiled shyly. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I’m sure you don’t want to listen to the woes of a fourteen-year-old.”
    “No, it’s totally fine.” I looked deeply into his eyes. I put my arm on his knee to balance myself out.
    He bashfully smiled at me. Then added, “and yes, I do want love.”
    “Well, I highly doubt that Phiona would have been able to give you that anyway.” I let my arm drop down.
    Zeek followed suit. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have ever been able to love her. I think I’m going to make sure someone likes me before pursuing a relationship.”
    “At least you learned something from all this. I just hope that I can help you though whatever happens.”
    Squinting his eyes at me, he said, “I sure hope you will. I’m going to have a talk with my brother tonight and tell him to lay off of you.”
    A huff came out of my mouth. “Thanks.” I blinked.
    “Um . . . I’m going to go back in. Are you?”
    I thought for a second. My “date” was still in there, but I didn’t care. “No.”
    As he got up, he dusted his butt off. (Very cute butt, by the way.) He started to walk away, but turned back around. “Come to my meet tomorrow. Please?”
    Without thought, I said, “okay.”
    Before he went back in, he turned around. He smiled and waved, then went back into Freeloader.

    Like I had promised, I went to Zeek’s track meet. There were a lot of moms in the crowd, which made me feel extremely out of place. All that changed when Zeek looked over into the stands. He smiled brightly at me, then went back to stretching. His track uniform was so cute, showing all of his muscles. He had great biceps. Then there were his leg muscles. Yum! As soon as I stopped staring at his rippling muscles, he stretched over, giving me a perfect view of his great bubble butt. Was he playing with me, or did he even realize what he was doing?
    The meet was kind of slow, but Zeek won every one of his events; high jump, 100 meter, 200 meter, and the four by four 400 meter. He was simply amazing out there on the track. Speed embodied him. And everytime he won, he looked directly at me. Then, he looked at one of the girls on the team. I guessed that he was telling me that he liked her.
    At one point Zeek was very sweaty and wiped some off his forehead with his jersey. This act exposed his abs, which were great and may have made me slightly hard. Fuck, moms all over the place. My eyes savagely roamed the stands.
    Actually, I was stunned that someone of Zeek’s age was so buff. It must have been the fact that his brother was such a jock. Ryan probably needed someone to spot him. Those two brothers were so different. One was sweet while the other was a jerk. Not to mention that one actually tried to be my friend. And so on.
    Shortly after the meet was over, Zeek walked up to me and told me that he talked to his parents and Ryan shouldn’t be bothering me any longer. I thanked him and told him that he did a fabulous job. The girl he had been looking at throughout the meet, walked up to him. As they walked away, she turned back and looked at me, then started giggling. Then, Zeek started awkwardly laughing. My heart was racing and my anger was rising. But that wasn’t the worst. Right before going into the locker room, Zeek kissed the girl on the cheek. I felt like someone stabbed a dagger right though my heart. I couldn’t take it, so, I just left.

    Another full week went by and I, once again, didn’t see Zeek. But this time, I didn’t care.  How could I have been so stupid to believe that he was gay? This whole time, I just knew he was straight. I was a little concerned about the fact that he needed help in English though. If nothing else, at least Ryan was leaving me alone.
    The hurt inside of me seemed like it was going to be everlasting. I tried to break myself away from Joel. But like a good friend, he stood by my side. Finally, Joel understood my feelings for Zeek, but I was determined to get over him, and quick.
    The image of the kiss that Zeek planted on that girl made me sick to my stomach. Sure, I totally envied her. But honestly, that so should have been me. My desires to be with him made it completely worse. Frustration had taken over my soul. I was beginning to hate everything.    I was contemplating going out with Cody, when something amazing happened. A letter was sent to my house without a return address. Even though there were questions running though my mind, I opened the letter. It read as thus,
Ian,
    I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out. Whats your problem?!  So, I have to do what I have to do. Meet me on top of the hill Friday night at 9:00. I believe its time for us. I’ll be waiting for you. I really hope that your their.

    There wasn’t much to the letter. Technically this could have been anyone. Honestly, I wanted it to be Zeek, but I wasn’t sure that it was him. But the grammatical errors did make me thing of Zeek’s problems in English. Shit, I was thinking about Zeek again. My rational side told me to just call Cody, apologize, and go out with him that night. Then there was my romantic side that desired more than anything for it to be Zeek. Yet, that wasn’t a sure thing either. Though, logically, if Zeek didn’t want to just come out to me, he could easily do it this way. My mind, then, moved once again onto the girl he kissed. It could have been a friend kiss or it could have been more. These are the things that make me insane at night. I had no choice, but to get someone else’s opinion. So, I called Joel.
    Naturally, Joel tried to talk me out of going. But I was convinced that the letter was from Zeek. There wasn’t a chance that I was going to pass this up.
    Later that night, I found myself waiting on this “mystery man,” hoping that he would be Zeek.
    When the guy came walking up to me, I realized how close I was. Ryan, Zeek’s brother, walked up to me. Shit, what was he doing?
    “Oh Ian, this was all too easy.” Ryan smirked. He swayed closer to me.
    “You set me up. What do you want?” I was shaking in fear.
    “I want you to stay away from my brother.” He punched me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. “And I want you out of my life.” Ryan left hooked me in the jaw, knocking me to my knees. Then, I heard him run away. At this point, I was crying. All I could hear was a car pull up. Then I looked up, but I saw Ryan running up to me with a bat in hand. There wasn’t even a chance of seeing whose car it was.
    Then I heard the words, “stop, Ryan!” It was Zeek yelling. Everything boggled my mind. Wait, he couldn’t drive. Ryan ran off again. Finally, I heard his truck pulling away.
    “Are you okay?” Joel’s arms were around me, holding me tight.
    “No. Why’s Zeek here?” I could finally see what was going on around me.
    “I told him everything. I got worried about you.”
    “So was I.” Zeek said.
    Then it happened. I looked up into Zeek’s beautiful eyes. He sat down next to me. And I threw up right next to him. So romantic, huh? Call me the modern day Lance-a-slosh.
    Joel finally let go of me. Then, Zeek was rubbing my back. God, I felt like an idiot. I needed to find an exit quickly.
    “So, you like me?” Zeek smiled awkwardly at me.
    “Great, Zeek. Make fun of me while I’m down.” I got up and ran to my car.
    From behind me, I heard, “I’m not . . . ”
    Slamming my door, I started my car, and drove off, angrily. A powerful pain was in my stomach. My jaw hardly hurt, but I could taste the blood.
    When I got home, no one was there. I looked in the mirror. Hell, I looked like shit. So, I took a shower, with the hope of getting cleaned up.
    After my shower, I went to my bedroom to rest. Twenty minutes later someone was ringing the doorbell. Nervously, I walked to the door and peered out the peep hole. It was Joel. So, I opened the door, a bit disoriented from the short nap I had apparently taken.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah,” I shrugged.
    “Well, someone that thinks you’re a very special guy and likes you wanted to see you.”
    “Joel, I’ve just had the worst day of my life. Don’t fuck with me.” I crossed my arms in anger and pouted.
    “I’m not.” He looked into my eyes, seriously.
    I scratched my head. Who was Joel talking about? Cody! Why was Joel trying to push me into a relationship with Cody?
    “He’s out here waiting for you. Come on!” Joel nodded his head to follow.
    I walked out with Joel. Standing against his car was my one dream. Zeek.
    Certain of himself, Zeek casually strolled over to me.
    “It’s you?” I breathed.
    “It has always been me.” Zeek smiled, gazing into my eyes. “When I asked you about the age difference, it was never Phiona. I was talking about you. When I saw you with someone else I got mad. Then, at my track meet, I told Karin about you. She was so excited, but I know that you thought that I was with her. I never intended for you to think that. Hell, I didn’t think you would even see us.”
    Unsure of what came over me, I hugged Zeek. And he actually hugged me right back. “Do you want to be . . . ” He hesitated, “my boyfriend?”
    Pulling away, I looked into his eyes. Then, I kissed him and pulled away again. “Yes!”
    “You know, you actually have to help me with my English now, right?” Zeek gave me a geeky smile.
    I laughed back at him. “And you’ll be right over my shoulder the whole time.”
    He nodded and we kissed again. His lips were so soft. I could have kissed them all night, but I was tired.
    I commend Joel for not making vomit noises as I finally got my wish.

END!

    Okay. If you want to know all the gooshy stuff, then you can read this little bit about how well my dreams came true. But Joel says it induces illness, so beware.
    Within the first week of us dating I found out that Zeek had already come out to his parents and a few select friends. I understood why Ryan hated me being around him. His parents sent him off to boot camp so he could get over this.
    Zeek and I spent a lot of time together. His parents really liked me. And after three years, we are still together.

Monday, February 7, 2011

In Praise of Underwear






All too often, I feel like small things are forgotten. One of the smallest things that seem to be forgotten is underwear. It used to be that we would ask "boxers or briefs?" But now, it seems like we go straight to the punch of "how big is your penis?" To one who loves underwear deeply, it saddens my heart that so many don't seem to care about one of the smallest articles of clothing. It's like Christmas. We are so quick to open everything up, that we don't remember to take time to enjoy the opening process. Someone took a long time wrapping all those gifts up. Like-wise, a person like me takes a long time picking out a pair of underwear to wear each day, especially the days that I know someone is going to see them. But when they come down with the jeans, it saddens my heart a little that the person didn't care to look at the underwear.

So, takes some time today to appricate some underwear. Watch as that cute boy in class, bending over his desk just a bit to see what's on the board a little better, as the back of his shirt slightly lifts up to reveal his band (usually boxers) just for you to admire. For, he wears his jeans a little low like that just for your eyes. Take a small peek in the locker room and see if the guy next to you is bold enough to wear a jock strap or if he's in briefs. When your man comes home from work, tell him to put on some sexy underwear and wait in the bed while you do something so you can be surprised by what ones he puts on, then kiss him and play with the band of his underwear until he is driven crazy and wants more. Put on your sexiest underwear and takes pics of yourself. You'll enjoy it.

Say! What is your favorite type of underwear?
Comment and let me know?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Prayers of Painful Lonliness

Prayers of Painful Loneliness
By: Ivan Adams


Hands that pluck instruments strings
Tear tiny bits of heart ever few moments.
Flower petals ripped one at a time
Reciting “Love me, Love me not.”
Careless hands fumble over letters A-Z
Murmuring words of discomfort
Lips parting in crude contortions.
At the start, Geisha painted words
Ripple and blow ice
Filling the broken fissures of the organ.
Until vast fire geysers sprout from tongue
Melting the ice and filling emptiness
With floating chunks of heart particles
Waiting to be swept up by the
Big Man with His healing broom
Before the ringing telephone
Beaconing an eternal visit to
The realm of Hades is given answer.
Every pluck made is so crude
That streams on cheeks are
Made visible to deep moonlight
Yet invisible to eyes that
Plan to deal all the damage.
Playing cards cut through skin.
Knaves fill my cup with poison.
Queens laugh at me.
Kings’ dull eyes glance through me.
I am mist in the wind,
splattered against windshields of cars.
Unnervingly plucking me apart.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Religion

So, I'll admit that I'm very very late Gleek. I only started watching after most of the second season was over via DVDs. I'm all caught up now! YAY! Anyway. What I find remarkable was how realistic Kurt was in the first season as a gay character. I've seen a lot of gay characters on TV here and there. But Kurt showed the truest of pains as he started to develop through the season. He actually obtained a crush on a straight guy and had to walk alone. He even had an amazing feat of coming out to his father that would normally have been less than accepting toward his son. All of which was beautiful and wonderful. Not to mention that Chris Colfer got them to create the character just for him. However, I found myself disappointed in the second season in the third episode "Grilled Cheesus" (I won't even start into the horrors of what Finn does in the episode). In the episode, Kurt confirms that he does not believe in God at all. My heart sank because it is all so true that gay people tend to turn away from God and simply just say there must not be one because He gives us the short end because we are gay.



So, here are some of my thoughts. It isn't right that a lot of God's people make us feel very unwelcome and like we are sinners. If they would take a second look at the, oh, seven passages that they use to condemn us, maybe they would see something new about them to show them that it isn't bad to be gay. We were made the way we were for a certain reason. I feel it is kind of a test of faith for us. Now, I'm not saying it is wrong to turn completely away from God all together, but why is it always straight to there isn't anything? Why is it that no one ever goes on the quest to find other religions and see if they have something to offer. Personally, I have put Christianity and Hinduism together to press all my beliefs together. So, I urge all of you to go out and seek something. It's a bit naive to think that we all are just here out of no where. The complexities of our world show that it could not have just happened without some kind of thought. Go out and listen to nature. You'll feel it if you are trying hard enough!

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Works of Fiction to Check Out

These are just a few novels or collections of short stories I feel everyone should check out at some point.



Brian Sloan's Tale of Two Summers
Brent Hartinger's Geography Club
Lisa Papademetriou and Chris Tebbetts's M or F
Scott Heim's Mysterious Skin
Rigoberto Gonzalez's Men without Bliss

Alex Sanchez's
So Hard to Say
Rainbow Boys (series)
Getting It
The God Box
Bait
David Levithan's
Boy Meets Boy
Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List (with Rachel Cohn)
Will Grayson, Will Grayson (with David Green)

All of these works are amazing and have helped me strive to be a better writer. If you have time and the ablity to check these books out, I certainly think you should. And if you have any other gay friendly books that you enjoy, feel free to leave them on a comment. Thanks!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Damon

    Damon’s leg jiggled in anticipation as he road the school bus home. He had been waiting all day to get his back issue of a XY magazine that his older brother had ordered for him from his college dorm. Actually, the excitement about getting mail had caused him to not pay much attention in any of his first semester high school classes all day. Not to mention that this issue might have been able to help him with his dilemma more than anything else.
    As the bus pulled up to his driveway, Damon’s heart sank. There was a red car in the drive. That car belonged to his dad. He stepped off the bus and walked a couple of steps. He closed his eyes and rolled them in the back of his head. As he took steps toward the mailbox, he breathed a few heavy breaths through his nose. The mailbox door creaked as he pulled it down. Nothing was inside the small black hole. Damon leaned his head back and looked up at the sky, as if he were pleading to it to have had no mail for the day or at least not make this the day that his magazine had come. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he walked to the house.
    Upon entering the house, he saw the unopened mail on the side counter. There were only white envelopes scattered. Apparently Damon’s father had already rummaged through the unopened bills that laid there idly. The lump in Damon’s throat started to dissipate.
    The floor creaked underneath Damon’s steps on the carpet in a spot just before the opening to the living room. A sport announcer’s voice came from the television in that room. Damon peeped in as he went by. His father sat on the couch, keeping his attention on the bright flashes.
    “Hey Dad,” Damon said loud enough for his father to hear.
    No response.
    Damon blinked, then quickly went up to his bedroom, telling himself that his father must have just not heard him. He turned the doorknob and pushed hard on the wood to get the door to his room open. As soon as he opened the door, the first thing he saw was the magazine laying on his bed. His backpack dropped to the floor, making a plunk from his math book. He kicked his backpack to the side and slammed his shoulder against the door at the same time to make it close all the way. A force not of his own accord made Damon walk over to his bed. He rubbed his shoulder as he took small steps closer to his bed. His hands shook as he picked up the magazine that was still sealed up in plastic, except for the top of the plastic was torn off. Damon wanted nothing more than to die right then and there. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them up to see the word “Closet,” the issue title, on the bottom of the magazine. Next, he noticed that there was a boy looking out of broken glass. He eased up, thinking that it looked simi-normal. Then he saw the red print on the side that read, “‘the gay boy’s bible’—heavenly times.”
    “Dammit,” he gasped and hit his forehead with the magazine. The plastic tore a little more. He let go of it and let it drop to the floor. Looking around his room for an answer to a question he still didn’t know, Damon rolled his tongue back and forth in his mouth. His legs started to make him pace around the room. Many times his eyes rolled over to the clock. He didn’t feel sure why he kept wondering what time it was. Maybe he desired for his mother to save him. No, that wasn’t it. His eyes darted to the phone.
    Luke will know what to do. He got me in this mess, Damon thought as he made his way over to his cell phone.
    Damon opened up his phone and quickly found Luke’s name in his address book and pushed the green phone to make it call out to him. Desperately pressing the phone against his ear, it rang once—twice—three times. “Hey, this is Luke. Can’t get to my phone mon ami, leave one.” Before it beeped, Damon shut his phone.
    For about three seconds, that felt like forever, Damon tapped his foot against the floor. He blinked four times in a matter of two seconds, and opened his phone to call again.
    “Hey, this is Luke—” Damon clasped the phone closed again.
    “Dammit, Luke!” he exasperated, clinching his teeth together.
    More pacing commenced, as Damon kept looking down at his phone. Tears started to gloss over his eyes. He noticed the magazine laying lazily by his bed. Damon kicked at it, sending it under the bed, where only one small corner peeped out, making it barely visible.
    Two minutes after his last call, Damon decided that if he couldn’t get a hold of his brother this time, he would leave a message. Damon put the phone up to his ear. It rang until Luke’s voicemail picked up again.
    “Luke, I really need you. I’m scared...” Damon couldn’t talk anymore. Instead, he just started crying. The fear and frustration was enough to make him cry.
    He hadn’t hung up, but started hearing a beeping noise. Pulling the phone away from his ear, the screen of the phone lit up and showed Luke calling back. Damon clicked over, without hanging up with Luke’s voicemail.
    “Luke,” Damon gurgled, still slightly crying.
    “Dude, what’s wrong? You’ve called like three times in the past five minutes.” Luke’s voice sounded very panicked.
    “It came,” Damon said between sharp breaths.
    Silence.
    “What?” Luke asked.
    “The magazine,” Damon said, suddenly alarmed.
    “Okay...”
    “Dad got home first, and he saw it. He put it on my bed. And I think he looked through it,” Damon muttered quickly. He had resumed pacing.
    “Um, I still have ten minutes of French. Can I call you after that?”
    “Dammit, Luke! If you wouldn’t have caught me kissing Michael a few years back, none of this would have happened. You got me into this mess, now fucking get me out of it.” Damon ranted and let out all of his frustration as quickly as his mouth and vocal cords could move.
    “Damon, quit being a little shit. And stop cussing. Ten minutes, okay?” Luke kept a cool tone and waited for a reply.
    Damon sighed. “Okay, ten minutes.” He hung up the phone and flopped down on his bed. He had almost dozed off by the time that his phone started to sing to him. Ugh, gay ringtone, Damon thought to himself as Hilary Duff belted out a simple song.
    “Hello,” he answered groggily.
    “Damon, are you sure dad looked at the magazine?” Luke asked. Wind blew in the receiver.
    Damon sat up. “I’m pretty sure. The top of the plastic was tore off,” he sounded a little more calm this time.
    “Well, at least it’s doing its job effectively,” Luke tried to make a joke.
    Damon pursed his lips. “Not funny.”
    “Listen, don’t worry about it yet. Dad might not care. Why don’t you go talk to him and then call me when you know for sure.”
    “Right,” Damon rolled his eyes. That was the stupidest idea his brother had ever had.
    “Do you want me to just come home tonight?” Luke sounded a little irritated at that point.
    “No—” Damon said meekly, even though he did.
    “Fine. Wait until dinner, then see what happens, okay?”
    Damon sighed softly. “Okay,” he said almost inaudibly.
    “Okay, call me after.”
    “Okay. I will.” Damon hesitated for a second. “Luke?”
    “Yeah?”
    “I love you.”
    “Love you too, little bro.”
    Damon hung up the phone.
    To distract himself of the thoughts of what would happen during dinner, Damon got out his math book and sat at his desk. For an hour he scribbled away at every math problem on the page, even though he was only supposed to do the even problems. Damon had always loved numbers. They were concrete. Two added to two was always four. Six divided by six was always one. There was order in math, unlike his real life.
    After finishing his math homework, Damon turned some light instrumental music on to relax his nerves. Music seemed to have a combination of the concrete mathematical beats and rhythms that kept the music on a steady path, yet there was also the chords and instrumentation that seemed to have so many possibilities and combinations that one could not simply control all the elements of a musical piece, saying what’s right and what’s wrong.
    A light rapping on his door broke Damon’s connection with and on his music. He got up from his desk, where he realized he had been making a doodle on the bottom of his homework by what the music had made him feel like. It didn’t much resemble anything, though. When he got to the door, he pulled on the handle with both hands as hard as he could to get the door open.
    “Damona, dinner is ready,” his mother told him with a bright smile on her face. Damona had been a name Damon had wanted to be referred to as when he was a kid and watched Gargoyles all the time. He had always been amused by the fact that she didn’t follow what all the other gargoyles did and lived life the way she wanted to, which Damon had dreamed about when he was little. At least when it came to what his dad wanted him to do most of the time.
    Damon looked over his mother’s expression. It was obvious to him that his father had told her about the magazine.
    “Come on, mi amor, you can’t hide in here forever,” she commented, not making Damon feel any better about his situation. Suddenly, Damon wished he had told Luke to come home. His support would be very helpful. Somehow Damon felt that Luke would tell him that this was something he needed to do on his own. And that fifteen was the age that he would need to show how grown up he could be to show that he would be adult enough to drive the next year.
    The hallway had a dark and damp lurking to it as Damon made his way behind his mother to the kitchen. He debated with himself if it was more “adult” of him to be coming out or to be confronting his dad the way he knew he needed to. Neither were all that appealing. Maybe being an adult wasn’t for him. A smirk came to his face as he thought that one up.
    When he hit the kitchen and saw his dad sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper in hand, he knew that being an adult would mean getting out of the house. Suddenly it felt appealing again.
    “Locking yourself away in your room again,” Damon’s father half-questioned, half-commented, not looking away from the paper.
    Damon blinked and tried to keep his focus on the steaming food that his mother brought out to them and set down on the table.
    “I was doing my homework,” Damon meekly piped up.
    “On a Friday?” his dad huffed in a gargled tone. “Don’t you have the whole weekend for that?”
    Damon’s mother started dishing out the meal that she had prepared for her family. Damon thought that he saw her take a quick glance at where Luke usually sat. He knew that his leaving for his first year of college had been hard on her. If only she knew how hard it was on him. He thought that maybe she had also wished he was there for this conversation too.
    “I think it’s great that Damon is getting his schoolwork done early. Leaving it looming all weekend might make the weekend less enjoyable.”
    Damon half-nodded to his mother’s comment. He didn’t really agree with it, but it sounded good for his case for staying in his room. Everyone at the table knew the real reason he had finished homework that night, though.
    If it hadn’t been for the clinking of the forks against the glass plates, or the scraping of the knives as they cut the meat up, the room would have been in silence during the whole dinner. The only thing that seemed to really be getting louder was the since of looming that Damon felt. Something had to be said, but he just wasn’t sure when it was going to be started. And he certainly wasn’t going to start himself.
    Once dinner finished, and still no one had said anything, Damon quickly helped his mother with the dishes and took off to the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it behind him. (The bathroom was the only room with a functioning lock.) He put the lid down on the toilet and sat down on it. Resting his arms on his legs, he put his head down into his hands, rubbing his face, trying to get the angst off of it.
    Out in the other room, Damon could hear his mother ask his father why he didn’t say anything to Damon. In which, his mother got a grunt as a reply. She, then, kindly reminded him that he couldn’t just hide from it forever. In reply, Damon’s father yelled at her to drop it. A sense of shame filled Damon completely. He got up from the toilet and flushed it to make it seem as if he had used it. After washing his hands, he retreated to his room.
    In Damon’s room, he didn’t have the energy to close his door all the way. Most of the noise outside of his room was blocked out, but he could still feel the negative energy surrounding the entire house, and it was all his fault.
    A glance at his cell phone made Damon remember that his brother had urged him to call him after dinner. However, Damon felt like there was no reason to call Luke because nothing had happened. His heart wouldn’t have been able to let him articulate things over the phone anyway. How would Damon ever speak out his feelings? That just seemed impossible.
    Instead, Damon sat down at his desk and logged into his instant messenger. Damona777. “God, I need to change that,” he muttered to himself as he typed it in.
    He looked over everyone that was online. Not surprisingly, Luke was on. But Damon couldn’t bring himself to click on his name and talk to him about everything that was inside him. However, that didn’t stop Luke from sending Damon a message.
FrenchWizz: Hey, bro. What happened at dinner?
Damona777: ugh nothing happened
FrenchWizz: What do you mean?
Damona777: dad ignored it and mom got in a fight with him after dinner about it
FrenchWizz: I hate when he just ignores what’s bugging him. You know, I’m just going to come home.
Damona777: NO! DON’T! it doesn’t matter...he likes you better than he’ll ever like me...you’ve never messed up and lived up to his expectations all your life...I just suck...
FrenchWizz: Is that what you think?!?!?!
FrenchWizz: That’s it. I’m coming home.
Damona777: NO LUKE...i’ll do this myself
    It was too late. The house phone started ringing. Damon strained his ears to hear his mother excitedly talking to his brother about coming home for the night. After a little more casual conversation, Damon couldn’t hear anything his mother was saying. He deduced that the conversation must have ended.
    Later that night, while Damon was in his bed reading Great Expectations, his mother lightly tapped on his door and came into his room without a greeting.
    “Luke’s coming home tonight, and we’re all going hiking tomorrow. Doesn’t that sound great?” She had that sweet, little smile on again, while she walked over to Damon’s bed and sat down.
    “Yeah, that will be tons of fun.” Damon rolled his eyes and put his book down.
    “Damon, honey, we’ll figure everything out. I’m sure you’re brother can talk to your dad.”
    Sometimes in Damon’s life, he felt like his mother knew every last thing that had ever happened in their house. And this was certainly one of those times. Damon didn’t know how, but he knew that his mom knew that Luke already knew about his secret.
    His mom got off the bed and bent down. Damon wasn’t sure what she was doing. But when she came back up, she was holding something. “Shouldn’t you be reading this?” It was the magazine that he had almost forgot about. How could he have, with all the trouble it caused? Somehow he had though. Mostly it was because he didn’t want to see it. “I think it will help you,” his mom went on. She laid it on his bed, then left the room.

    A bounce on Damon’s bed woke him up the next morning. It was Luke sitting on his bed.
    “Wake up, Stud.” Luke laughed.
    Damon rubbed his eyes and pulled his blankets up over his naked chest. He felt a bit disoriented. He realized that he must have fallen asleep before Luke had even made it home the night before.
    “Geeze, Luke. Why’d you have to come home?” Damon asked; his voice cracked.
    “Awww geeze, Damon, someone might think you weren’t happy to see your big frere and best ami.” Luke faked a look toward the ground in disappointment.
    Damon threw his arms around Luke. “I’m glad you came,” he confessed in a whisper.
    Luke looked up at him and smiled. “I knew you would be. Now get ready. We’re going hiking.” He bounced up from the bed as Damon fell back down into it, grimacing.
    It was only because it was Luke that Damon got out of bed and got ready to go hiking. Otherwise, Damon would have stayed in bed all day and never have left his room. Facing his dad just wasn’t an option to him. However, because of Luke, that’s exactly what would have to happen all day.
    The car ride to the state park was quiet except for the oldie radio station that his father had turned on. Damon and Luke sat in the back seat. Damon kept giving his older brother unsure looks. In return, Luke tried to make his brother more comfortable by telling him just to trust him and his judgement.
    Arriving at the state park helped calm some of Damon’s anxiety. No matter what had ever happened within their family, somehow hiking had always made everything better.
    Everyone got out of the car. Damon stretched as he stood next to his mother. His father and Luke started walking toward the sets of trails. Damon and his mother followed at somewhat at a distance.
    The open wood of the trails made Damon almost forget why they were out there in the first place. Something about nature always made him feel at peace. There was a double quality of spirituality and musicality out in nature. The wind blew through the trees, causing a swaying and a rustle of leaves that put a smile on Damon’s face. The chirping of the birds singing, and the rush of the animals getting to safety gave Damon a sense of life continuing no matter what was going on within the world. Everything had its own comfort when it was scared of something. And Damon felt the strength to get closer to his father and brother to see what they were talking about. But he still stayed at a distance.
    “You have to talk to him, Dad,” Luke commented, trying to sound quiet.
    “I know. I’m just—not ready for this. You were so much easier.”
    Luke quickly replied to his father’s comment. “You can’t compare him to me. We’re completely different people. That’s his problem. He doesn’t think he’s good enough for you.”
    His father sighed and didn’t say anything.
    Damon felt shaken. He double backed to where his mother was taking pictures of the water that looked determined to be anywhere but where it was as it rushed down its path.
    “Mom?” Damon asked as his mother put down her camera. Some of her hair brushed her face from the wind as she nodded to go on. “Are you—disappointed in me?”
    “Oh honey.” Her eyebrows fell down with concern. “You have so many special and unique talents. You listen to everything around you. You try not to judge others as so many other people do. And you’re one of the smartest people that I’ve ever come across in my lifetime. I imagine that it’s hard for you to make a dark realization that you have something different from many other people within your sexuality, but to me, you’ve always been something so different from anyone else that I’ve come to see that the world needs more people like you in it. So, to answer your question, no, you could never be a disappointment to me.” She brushed his hair with her hand as they walked down the path.
    “Dad’s disappointed,” Damon sighed.
    “Possibly. But you’ll never know for sure, until you talk to him.”
    They walked for a bit before Damon could muster the courage to admit, “I’m scared.”
    “He is too,” she murmured back.
    The woods opened up into a big area where most people lounged around in the water or on the rocks nearby. For some reason, though, there didn’t seem to be much of anyone there. Damon’s dad walked over on a big rock. Luke fell back a bit to let Damon catch up.
    “Il est temps (It’s time),” Luke said with a reassuring glance.
    Damon gulped and nodded.
    He cautiously walked over to the rock that his dad was on. With a few shuffled steps, he climbed up on the rock and found himself next to his father. They both sat down.
    “You know, Damon, I always wanted a son. You see, I never really knew how I would deal with all the important things that a young woman would go through. I felt relief the day you were born, and I had a second son. Somehow, I thought it would be just as easy as Luke was, with the same problems and the same victories. But you’ve been very different from Luke. Almost everything is different.” He wiped away a drop of sweat that was falling down his face.
    “Dad, I’m sorry I’m so different. I tried to be like Luke, but—”
    Damon’s dad looked at him. “I’m going to tell you something my father told me when I was your age. You see, I got in trouble for stilling a pack of cigarettes from a convenience store because all my friends were doing it. Well, I was caught, and they called my father, instead of the police. And instead of punishing me, he took me for ice cream and told me that I needed to be myself and not try to be anyone that I wasn’t. You need to make sure you stay true to who you are.” He looked away, down into the water.
    “But you’re still disappointed in who I am?” Damon released his deepest feeling.
    His father looked at him again. “Down this trail, I noticed these two baby deer and their mother. They were just grazing. But as we approached them, they started to run away. And in the distance there was a buck. I’m guessing that it was their father. And it reminded me that a father is a protector. And I haven’t been doing a good job at protecting you as far as making you feel safe in my care for you. I’m going to try hard to understand who you are. I felt ashamed at first, realizing that I now have a gay son, but in the back of my mind, I always knew you were a different type of person. It’s my job to make sure that the light that you bring to the world never goes out. So, I’m going to learn about being a parent of a gay kid and work hard at keeping you safe and loved.”
    They hugged each other with a new understanding.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Romantic

If I were to live in another time and place, it would be in my best judgment for me to pick Greece, Ancient. Athens to be exact. You see, back then, there was less trifling quibble about the correct or incorrectness of being gay or straight. Hates, the word gay, or should I say homosexual, did not rightfully exist in that time. Oh, and was it a time for great Romantic ideas. Heroes, like Hercules, were very sexualized and idolitrized. But in the background of all the god and goddess hoopla, there were a few people who chose to point out a difference in the norm. The first of which has a complete group of people named after her.

Sappho of Lesbos (which is where the world Lesbian comes from, much like we'd call someone from Asia an Asian.)
Sappho was a poet and young maidens were sent to her to learn poetry to recite to her husband on their wedding day. But Aprhodite had a strangling hold on Sappho, to the point of where she found herself falling in love with many of the maidens that were sent to her. No surprise with how much time they spent with one another. So, this poem is the most romantic of poems I've ever come across. The start (even if it does work well for men who love men) is actually a bit of fluff for the maidens to recite. But the second half is where her true feelings for a special girl rings through.

He seems to me equal to gods that man
whoever he is who opposite you
sits and listens close
      to your sweet speaking

and lovely laughin---oh it
puts the heart in my chest on wings
for when I look at you, even a moment, no speaking
      is left in me

no: tongue breaks and thin
fire is racing under skin
and in eyes no sight and drumming
     fills ears

and cold sweat holds me and shaking
grips me all, greener than grass
I am and dead---or almost
      I seem to me.

In other translations, the first part is cut off and it just reads:

There's a moment when I look at you
No speech is left in me
My tongue breaks, thin fire races under my skin
And I tremble
As I grow paler than the reed
For I am dying of such love; or so it seems to me.

Second of these two great lovers would be Plato. He walked a thin line on the sexuality road. But, if he wasn't gay, he was very supportive of gays. He felt that two men or two women should just be happy enough with one another that they wouldn't even need the support of others. Nor would they need marriage. They were the most true to his beliefs of what a soul mate is. In that belief he wrote:

Once a long, long time ago, all people had four legs and two heads. The gods (who were one being) grew jealous and threw thunderbolts down. Each had then, two legs and one head. But the separation left a desperate yearning to be reunited. Now, each person spends their life looking for their soul mate.

So, yes. I would love to be in a time where people regarded love a little higher than anything else. If there truly were an Aphordite, then she'd be the goddess I'd ask for help and worship. But I stick the the love gods that I truly have faith in. The I Am, God. And Krishna. Love is the highest power on the earth, don't forget to love someone. As Jewel sings...





If you love somebody
You better lead it out
Don’t hold it back
While you’re trying to figure it out
Don’t be timid
Don’t be afraid to hurt
Run toward the flame, run toward the fire
Hold on for all your worth

Cause the only real pain
Your heart can never know
Is the feeling of regret
When you don’t let your feeling’s show
So did you say it
Did you mean it
Did you lay it on the line, did you make it count
Did you look ‘em in the eye & did they feel it
Did you say in time
Did you say out loud
Cause if you did Hun
Then you lived some
And that feeling inside
It’s called satisfied

Busy people walkin’ by
I can’t help but worry some
So many things to do
So little love gets done
Empty hearts everywhere
Drowning but dying of thirst
But if you want love, it’s not that tough
Start by giving it first

Cause the only real pain
Your heart can never know
Is the feeling of regret
When you don’t let your feeling’s show
So did you say it
Did you mean it
Did you lay it on the line, did you make it count
Did you look ‘em in the eye & did they feel it
Did you say in time
Did you say out loud
Cause if you did Hun
Well then you lived some
And that feeling inside
That’s called satisfied

Horses were made to run
And the sun was meant to shine above
And flowers were made to bloom
Then there’s us
We were born
To love
We were born
To love
So did you say it
Did you mean it
Did you lay it on the line, did you make it count
Did you look ‘em in the eye & did they feel it
Did you say in time
Did you say out loud… oh
Cause if you did Hun
Well then you lived some
And that feeling inside
It’s called satisfied





So, tell someone you love them today! Whatever day you read this!