OUTED - PART 1

Allow me to preface this post with a little background information. When I started this blog back in January (can't believe it's been this long) this was one of the experiences I wanted to share, not only because I thought that perhaps others out here may have gone through the same thing and also because I thought, or rather, think, that writing about this experience might finally absolve me of any lingering feelings of resentment. A tall order, to be sure, but I feel like I'm at a point where I can lay it all out on the table.

This is the story of how I was outed...

High school is difficult enough for any sane person to get through, and obviously it's even more difficult living "the best years of your life" (man I hate that fucking tired expression) stuck deep in the closet, as I was at the time. Freshman year I had a steady girlfriend and although she was great and we fooled around some (always initiated by her, I might add) that didn't last due to the gnawing feeling I had that something wasn't right. I forget the exact excuse I made when I broke up with her, but I remember it made her cry, which in turn made me cry since I was nowhere near telling her the real reason why we broke up.

There were a few other girls back then but none as serious as the first one, perhaps because I knew deep inside who I really was and didn't want to hurt them too. Still, I felt a certain pressure to keep up appearances. Also, I experienced what I think many gay men do before they come out, which is the thought that "maybe one day I'll meet the right girl and everything will work out right". Of course, at the same time I had huge crushes on two of the hottest jocks at my high school (both of whom have gone onto acting careers of sorts in Hollywood - gotta love "actors").

Needless to say I didn't meet nor hook up with any guys while in high school. In fact it wasn't until I was 20 that I had my first experience with another guy. Mr. X, as I'll refer to him as was 18 and had graduated from my high school a year earlier. We meet online one lonely night and decided to meet up over at his place. There were two logistical reasons why this made sense, 1, he was already out to his parents, and 2, he lived in a semi detached apartment from his parent's place, so effectively, we would be alone.

To this day I still recall that nervous ride over to his place, which was only a few miles from where I lived at the time. Having pulled into the parking lot I spotted a guy in a hoody wearing shorts and as I approached him he said "Justin?". My heart was beating out of my chest, not because he was hot (in retrospect he only moderately attractive) but because it was the first time I had ever met anyone else who knew who I truly was, gay.

Once inside his place we sat and watched a little TV while chatting. He seemed to sense how nervous I was and tried to get me to relax. I was not looking for a hookup but I still followed him into his bedroom and we laid down...and talked for about two hours, which was probably about the length of time it took me to relax. Finally, we stopped talking, he turned off his lights and we made out. Hard. Eventually both our pants came off and, well, he gave me the first blow job I ever got. Sweet, right?

There were two other times that we hooked up but those details are irrelevant to this post. What is relevant is was a party I was having at my father's place about a year later (he was out of town - a little more background, he traveled all the time therefore his house was the default party place for years). A group of about 8 or 10 of us were hanging out in my room listening to music (the band Phish, if memory serves) getting really, really high and drunk and generally having a good time. I don't remember what precipitated the following conversation, but here's how I remember it went:

Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "Hey Justin" (above the din of the music)
Me: "Sup girl?"
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "I ran into someone the other day that says he knows who..."
Me: "Yeah, who's that?"
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "I saw this guy I used to be in my BD class [behavior disorder] he says he knows you..."
Me: (clueless and very high) "What's his name?"
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "[Mr. X]"
Me: (long pause followed by my blood pressure steadily rising) "...oh, um, huh, that's, uh, odd, I don't, uh, think I know him"
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "He says you two have hung out a few times"
Me: "...that's, uh, really fucking odd, I have no idea who this person is" (gulp)
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "really? he seemed to know a lot about you, he knows where you live, what kind of car you drive, what you look like..."

At this point the entire room had it's collective eye on me. To this day I don't know what well of reserve I drew from not to break down completely in front of several close friends and several more lesser friends/acquaintances. What the FUCK was she thinking?

Me: "that's really weird, but he must be thinking of someone else"
Female Friend With Really Long Hair: "he's totally gay"
Me: "don't know anyone like that...hey I think the phone is ringing" (to the room) "anyone need a beer?"

Without really waiting for an answer I quickly left the room went into the garage and did my best not to cry and/or puke. After chugging a Budweiser and smooooking the fuck out of a Marlboro Red I regained my composure and returned to the scene of the "crime". I remember thinking it was a great thing that everyone was really stoned and no one said anything (that I can recall) about the Most Embarrassing Conversation I had ever had. In fact, it was almost as if it never happened and the night continued without further incident. Since she never directly accused me of hooking up with Mr. X I played it off like Female Friend With Really Long Hair was just really fucked up when one of my friends later took me aside and asked me what that was all about.

To be continued...