Okay, so here's the deal. I'm out of town staying at the home of a couple of friends. I've been looking after the place and the pets while they are gone on a cruise. It's basically a palace with a pool (which I haven't used), a weight room (which I haven't used), and a fully stocked bar (which I've used). I needed a vacation, they were going on a vacation, and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to get away for a while. Its been relaxing, but it has also left me devoid of any inspiration to write about anything going on in the the world recently. My friends get back tomorrow, so I'll probably spend the rest of the weekend with them, and then head back home Monday, giving me no time to write this weekend. So I've decided to pull out something from my past. It was a very important night for me in my development into an adult, and, yes, it is probably the best night I ever spent in bed. So if any of that crap sounds like it interests you, click on through to the other side.
One night when I was in college, my roommate and I had gone to bed and began to discuss things in the dark as we often did, he on his side of the room and I on mine. We shared a small dorm room with a double-sided desk between our bed areas. Some of the best conversations I've ever had in my life were with him in the middle of the night, with only the sound of our voices passing back and forth over the desk in the dark. My college roommate had also been my best friend since middle school, and I was scared to death that he wouldn't be for much longer.
I had finally accepted that I was gay. Oh, I hadn't accepted that it was okay or that I could still be a good person with a full life, but I had accepted that it was true after a brief period of trying to convince myself that I was bisexual and, therefore, still had a chance at a "normal" life. The fact that I liked boys had long been undeniable. It was even more so now that I had fallen head over heels for one. He was a friend of ours who lived just down the hall, and he was the cause of a lot of self-loathing and anxiety. So much, in fact, that I was finally willing to talk to my friend and roommate.
We chatted about God knows what for a while as usual, but then I started to push the conversation in a new direction. I started asking things like, "What would make you not want to be my friend anymore?" and "What if you found out something horrible about me?" He was reassuring as he always was. Losing his friendship was probably the thing that scared me more than anything in the world at that point. Eventually, after a bit of this, he said something like, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Always the pragmatist, that one.
Then I began rambling about how there was, but I didn't think that I could and I didn't want him to hate me. He said that he never could, and this went on for a while more. I was trying my damnedest to be strong and not shed a tear. Then he just asked me, "Are you gay?"
I lost it right then and blubbered an affirmative response in some manner that I can't remember. I was literally sobbing and had to be the most pathetic thing that anyone could ever see, if they could see me in the dark. I don't think I even realized how scared and ashamed I had been feeling up until that point. I cried with the force of emotions that had been bottled up inside for years.
The next thing I knew he was there sitting beside me and trying to grab me. To my horror, I realized that he was trying to pull me to him in a hug. I resisted and even moaned, "Noooooooooooo," because I didn't think I deserved it. But he didn't relent and he pulled me to him and hugged me and held me. He told me that it didn't matter to him and that I was still his best friend. I honestly have no idea how long we remained that way. It could have been seconds or it could have been several minutes. I settled down and he returned to his bed.
We remained awake much of the night talking openly and honestly. For the first time since before I was a teenager, I felt like things might just be okay. For the first time since before I was a teenager, I felt like I might be okay. I felt hopeful and thought things possible that I never had before. In a way, it felt like I'd been reborn or like I had awakened fully to who I was and what my life could be. I could never thank him enough for giving that to me.
So, yeah, that's the best night I ever spent in bed. Sorry if I disappointed you.
Recommended Song Download: Walking (Pull Edit) - Pocket Size
One night when I was in college, my roommate and I had gone to bed and began to discuss things in the dark as we often did, he on his side of the room and I on mine. We shared a small dorm room with a double-sided desk between our bed areas. Some of the best conversations I've ever had in my life were with him in the middle of the night, with only the sound of our voices passing back and forth over the desk in the dark. My college roommate had also been my best friend since middle school, and I was scared to death that he wouldn't be for much longer.
I had finally accepted that I was gay. Oh, I hadn't accepted that it was okay or that I could still be a good person with a full life, but I had accepted that it was true after a brief period of trying to convince myself that I was bisexual and, therefore, still had a chance at a "normal" life. The fact that I liked boys had long been undeniable. It was even more so now that I had fallen head over heels for one. He was a friend of ours who lived just down the hall, and he was the cause of a lot of self-loathing and anxiety. So much, in fact, that I was finally willing to talk to my friend and roommate.
We chatted about God knows what for a while as usual, but then I started to push the conversation in a new direction. I started asking things like, "What would make you not want to be my friend anymore?" and "What if you found out something horrible about me?" He was reassuring as he always was. Losing his friendship was probably the thing that scared me more than anything in the world at that point. Eventually, after a bit of this, he said something like, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Always the pragmatist, that one.
Then I began rambling about how there was, but I didn't think that I could and I didn't want him to hate me. He said that he never could, and this went on for a while more. I was trying my damnedest to be strong and not shed a tear. Then he just asked me, "Are you gay?"
I lost it right then and blubbered an affirmative response in some manner that I can't remember. I was literally sobbing and had to be the most pathetic thing that anyone could ever see, if they could see me in the dark. I don't think I even realized how scared and ashamed I had been feeling up until that point. I cried with the force of emotions that had been bottled up inside for years.
The next thing I knew he was there sitting beside me and trying to grab me. To my horror, I realized that he was trying to pull me to him in a hug. I resisted and even moaned, "Noooooooooooo," because I didn't think I deserved it. But he didn't relent and he pulled me to him and hugged me and held me. He told me that it didn't matter to him and that I was still his best friend. I honestly have no idea how long we remained that way. It could have been seconds or it could have been several minutes. I settled down and he returned to his bed.
We remained awake much of the night talking openly and honestly. For the first time since before I was a teenager, I felt like things might just be okay. For the first time since before I was a teenager, I felt like I might be okay. I felt hopeful and thought things possible that I never had before. In a way, it felt like I'd been reborn or like I had awakened fully to who I was and what my life could be. I could never thank him enough for giving that to me.
So, yeah, that's the best night I ever spent in bed. Sorry if I disappointed you.
Recommended Song Download: Walking (Pull Edit) - Pocket Size
2 comments:
I wasn't disappointed at all! What a great story!
I'll have to share mine sometime.
wow.
Disappointed? Umm, I don't think so. :)
Post a Comment