...continued

I plunged myself into academia. I became the quintessential student, the smartest kid in the class, who always did his homework. I socialized with my fellow classmates, laughed and joked with them. But when the bell rang at the end of the day, I went home and stayed there. There were no parties for me in high school, no hanging out or going to the mall on the weekends.

I went out on my own, usually for long walks, or to the video arcade, or a record store.

Always by myself, though. I felt at the time that nobody liked me. I realize now that I was projecting, that I feared anyone knowing what I felt inside. So instead I just stayed away.

The last year of high school rolled around mercifully. I graduated valedictorian of my class and gave my speech. I was surprised to get the cheers and adulation that I did. But now it was time to move on, so I said goodbye to everyone I knew. I also said goodbye?or so I thought?to the hell of my teen years.

Battling my demons

I had decided to go away to college. I felt I had to, that my mental survival depended on it. Living at home had been stifling (again, I was projecting). I saw college as a chance to escape, and reinvent myself.

My father and I packed up the car early on a Saturday morning, and traveled the five hours to Elmira, New York. I was sort of numb on the way there. I was tired, and a little apprehensive, but mostly I was anxious. I had plans and expectations.

We arrived, and I got set up. Hours later, I sent my father on his way.

Elmira had an intricate orientation planned, with all sorts of activities to get us used to college living, and being away from home.

Soon enough, though, the academic year was in full swing. By this point I had gotten quite used to getting up for an 8 o?clock class, and showering afterward before finally getting to breakfast. I had also gotten used to showering in a room where other men were showering behind plastic curtains, but not always bothering to wear a towel outside of them. I usually went straight back to my room, and never wore my glasses, for fear I might stare too long and give myself away.

I knew by now with a certainty that I was gay, or at least attracted to other men. I had decided though that I simply wouldn?t do anything about it and tried my hardest to ignore it.

My roommate and I had become friends, or friendly. I realize now, much to my own chagrin, that the relationship was not totally reciprocal, and I followed when I wasn?t wanted.

I had met other people in the meantime. One was a girl named Kelly. Kelly liked me. I found this out within the first month of school. We went to the movies one night, and I guess that qualified as our first date. We held hands, and all of a sudden I felt happy. Someone finally had shown some interest in me. I was elated, and decided to pursue this relationship.

The next day she came to my room. Cuddling turned into kissing. Actually, she was kissing. I was just following, this having been my first experience at intimacy. Within hours I was filled with confusion. Suddenly a girl liked me, and I liked her, or I thought I did. Maybe I had been wrong all those years, and my life would be normal. But then, I couldn?t deny the feelings I had for men. I walked around the campus, crying. I wrote her a letter and explained that I didn?t mean to hurt her, but for reasons I couldn?t enumerate, nothing but a good friendship would ever be between us. She explained to me, after reading it, that she felt similarly, that she already had a boyfriend and wanted to remain faithful. So, we stayed friends, and I got out of that situation. But it didn?t solve the problem underneath it.

I had been slightly attracted to my roommate this whole time?which also explained my latching onto him?but in an abstract sort of way. I knew nothing would ever happen, because I sure as hell wasn?t going to start anything. Living a lie and denying it to myself had worked too well for me up to now.

Within weeks of the second semester, I noticed that my roommate was acting strangely. He stared at me a lot, and made more than one suggestive remark. I thought he was kidding. Maybe deep down I knew he wasn?t, but I was too scared to believe it. The truth finally came out one tense night. He revealed that he was attracted to me, and that he?d had same-sex experiences before. I hadn?t. I wanted to but was scared. It would mean giving into all the instincts my body had been feeling, but also admitting a truth I was not yet ready to accept. It took me two days to make up my mind, and on a Friday night, I had my first sexual experience. It backfired... read more