The Question

I was sitting in a bar while on vacation this summer when somebody, finally, asked me THE QUESTION. "Are you gay?" He asked. He was cute, too. Suddenly my life passed in front of my eyes, the same way I imagine happens to people who are about to get killed or something. I saw my parents holding me as an infant, wondering what kind of person I would grow up to be. I saw my mom making me breakfast before school when I was a kid, and I saw all the things my parents sacrificed for me while I was growing up. I remembered camping trips with them, church functions, school events they came to and supported me in; basically everything which typified what I am, or at least who they think I am. The answer I would give this guy would change all of that. With this one answer I could change into someone so hated by my parents that they'd wish I'd never been born.

Nobody had ever asked me THE QUESTION before. There was never any need; I had done too good a job of convincing everyone around me that I was completely straight. Convinced everyone that all that dating and relationships and everything in my past wasn't just so much going through the motions. I played sports, joined a fraternity, went to strip clubs with the guys. Made sure I always had a girlfriend so nobody would suspect.

"Bisexual," I told the man. I couldn't really be GAY, could I? I'd had too much great sex with my girlfriends. I am attracted to women, I can't deny that. I just can't stay in a relationship because women scare me and I think they're from another planet. But saying I was bi was at least taking one step closer to admitting that I also am attracted to men. In that brief moment after I said that I envisioned how my life would be if I were an out of the closet gay. Though I still can't imagine that, the idea makes so, so many things in my past life become so much clearer. All kinds of thoughts and memories that I had more or less suppressed, or ignored, sprang to the front and for the first time ever, made sense. There was no denying the fact that, damnit, I'm gay.

That was three months ago. These last three months have been the most terrifying in my life. The more I try to move myself back into the life I know I want--wife, kids, and career; the more obsessed I become about the fact that that's not who I AM, no matter how much I want it. I have to admit to myself that living a gay life scares the shit out of me. I have always thought, KNEW, I would marry a nice girl and we'd have kids, and I'd take my kids camping, teach them to play baseball, all the stuff my dad did with me. That kind of life, those plans, are so much a part of me that a life without it seems so empty. If I come out, does that kill my chances of ever having kids of my own? Can I ever have a fulfilling, intimate and lifelong relationship with another man, the way I've always envisioned it with a woman?

What about my family now? My dad and I have drifted apart a little these last few years anyway, but I have absolutely no doubt that if he knew I was gay he'd never speak to me again. My mother would be no more accepting; now and then when something about gays comes up on TV she shakes her head and makes some comment, "How can men like other men? It's so sick!" I have to sit there and wonder what she'd think if she knew she was also talking about her own son. It's my brother who worries me the most; he and I are extremely close but he's the worst--he said once that if he ever thought he was gay he'd kill himself. If I tell him I'm gay, I can't imagine that our close friendship will ever be the same.

In a way, I'm really not surprised at what I've been feeling lately. Like I said, sometimes it all makes so much sense. I remember in Jr. High School, wondering when these supposed hormones were going to kick in that make me like girls. Once I got to high school, I busied myself with girlfriends and told myself everything was all right. When I got to college, I joined a fraternity and did all those college-manly things to convince myself that things are still all right, everything's normal, don't rock the boat. And through all those years whenever I found myself thinking this or that guy was so totally hot, I shoved it down so deep I was sure it'd never come back again.

But it's back. This summer, vacationing alone, I allowed myself a little more leeway than usual with those thoughts. How many hours did I spend staring out of train windows asking myself over and over, am I gay? So there I was in that bar, a little drunk, by myself, and actually *flirting* with a man. Did it feel right? Yeah. Was I comfortable with that feeling? Definitely not. How could I be gay? But here was this guy calling my bluff. Shoving so hard on my closet door that I had to take notice. Did he get in? No. Still too freaked out by the whole idea, I backed off.

Since then, it's been at the forefront of my mind every moment I'm awake. I find myself measuring every word I speak so I don't accidentally say something. Wasn't a problem before, it was all buried way too deep. Now that these feelings are forcing their way out and bubbling around on the surface, every time I open my mouth I think I'm going to say something about it. More than at any other time in my life I recognize the two me's. The one people are talking to, they straight one they think they know, and the other one, that so far, only I know.

So what in the HELL do I do with this? So do I come clean to myself and everyone I know and at least be honest about who I am, be a man and deal with it? Or do I go ahead with my life the way I want it, find me that wife and those kids to teach baseball too? Because in the end, that's still what I really want. Am I to let my hormones tell me how to shape the rest of my life?

I don't want to go to my grave lonely and family-less. But I also don't want to go there a liar.

Copyright © 1995, MuskelMan.