This blog is different from previous blogs. It is a bit more of a story than a blog. I hope I can do the story justice as I am not
sure my words can adequately convey the depth and emotion. This is a true story; however, told from only
one side. So, as is the way of human
nature, it is slanted I am sure to that person’s idealized memory.
This story starts over 37 years ago and involves two teenage
boys in a small Middle America town complete will all the biases, bigotry and
religious dogma typical of that type of town in the mid to late 1970’s. Neither were originally from there. One since he was 10 and the other was more
recent near the time this story really starts.
I am pretty sure that both felt very out of place in this environment.
There was about a year and a half age difference between the
two. Somewhere around 15/16 and the
other at 16/17, they met. It was instant
and pretty much that dreamed of feeling of love at first sight, although
neither knew anything about love, sexual orientation or sex for that
matter. Lots of confusion and guilt with
no one to ask about their feelings and how to deal with them.
They both pretty much stumbled through the initial
relationship with love, passion, guilt, recriminations, and lots and lots of
tears. The younger one, at the time,
insisted he was not “gay” and that it was just his feelings for this particular
boy. The other, frightened by these
words and not exactly sure what gay was, became even more confused. In fact the only gay person he knew of based
on the town’s gossip, which ran freely, was the local florist. He was a bit effeminate and the older boy
just always thought, “I’m not like that so I must not be gay.”
So, what does a small town boy in Middle America do in the
late 70’s to convince himself and everyone else that he can’t be gay? He gets married and actually before he even
graduated high school. Not exactly the
best decision for an eighteen year old (by 2 months when the wedding occurred)
and no there was no pregnancy involved.
The strange part is that all of the adults, except his mother, thought
this was great.
During the next 12 years they tried to maintain their close
relationship, sometimes with disastrous consequences. They were like two attracting magnets that
could just as easily be flipped around to opposing magnets. However, through it all, they still loved
each other very much, at least according to the side of the story I know
about. They had even managed to put
together and maintain a close friendship in the last 3 years of that period. The younger one had also now married and from
outward appearances was happy although the other knew he wasn't.
However, that peaceful period was not to last. The
older of the two now young men in their late twenties, couldn't continue to
live a lie. I doubt anyone can possibly
stay emotionally and psychologically healthy living a lie about the very core
of your being. He loved his wife, but
simply was not in love with her nor was he capable of being in love with her. If he could have, he would have in a
heartbeat rather than hurt her. He also
had children that were the center of his life and broke his heart to see them
during a family being torn apart by his mistakes and perceived shortcomings.
The younger was a bit panicked and feared his life being
turned upside down because people knew how close the two men were. He turned his back on his long-time love and
friend. Not with malice and not with bad
intent. He was simply frightened.
Lots of time has passed and the older of the two has always
kept up with the younger. As pretty much
anyone could guess, the younger man’s marriage eventually fell apart. A relationship that
is against your very nature in not sustainable. He wanted
to reach out to him, but had finally decided that wouldn't be right. The younger one needed to reach out to him to
reconnect. He watched, or more like
listened, to how his life was turned upside down as his had once been. He wanted to help him, but knew he couldn't.
Events and memories happened outside their relationship that
shaped and changed both of them. Some
events were great and some not so pleasant.
Both have dealt with major life changing events, including financial and
health related and both continue to still move forward. They also now know that there was never
anything wrong with them. The world
around them had decided there was something wrong when in fact it was their
issue.
They have both had singular other great loves, so in that
way they are surely blessed. Few people
ever find the one great love let alone two.
They have watched their respective children grow to adulthood and
thrive on their own, easing the guilt of the past. They also now know they do not need to
apologize to anyone for who they are and that yes unintentional mistakes were
made as teenagers and young men that hurt others that they loved. However, I know one half of the story has
forgiven himself. It is his hope the other
has as well. They are only human after all.
“So what now?” you may ask.
In the last year and due to a life threatening event, the younger one
reach out to the other. They have
communicated via text and email for a while now primarily catching up on
everything that has happened. It also
was the first confirmation by both that they were indeed each other’s very
first love. The older wrote to him that
he loved him then, loved him since, loved him now, and will love him tomorrow.
It has been good for at least this side of the story and
hopefully for the other as well. I know
they had their first phone conversation in over 25 years recently and spoke for
quite some time. It was if they had
never been parted and the ease of the conversation was like your favorite pair
of jeans, soft and comfortable. The
conversation ended without resolution as with everything there are
complications. However, after 37 years
of together and separation and tentative starts and restarts, there is still
hope.
As long as there is hope, this story has not ended.
Namaste,
“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment
we can bring on ourselves.” – Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding
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