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Just Two People

 

 

Ian Rixon McDowall

 

 

 

 

 

JUST TWO PEOPLE

A Novelette by Ian Rixon McDowall

 

Introduction

            This story is not a biography, autobiography, nor is it a diary of personal events.  It’s a work of fiction, nothing more, and nothing less.  I’m somewhat certain that most authors of fiction inject a personal experience or two of their own or of someone they know.  They may also develop a character around the attributes of someone they have encountered.  I confess this story has a couple of those elements in it.  Only one name I used was the name of an acquaintance of mine.  The only reason for that is because in writing the story, his name fit the character. 

            I don’t expect that anyone will actually think to themselves that this story is about them however, I do believe that some will relate to an aspect or two of this story.  In the end my hope is that the reader will feel a strong positive sense of any of these; trust, acceptance, self-respect, respect for others, loyalty, compassion, commitment, and of course faith, hope, and love.

            There is the old adage, “No man (or women) is an island.”  We all need each other, even if it’s just two people. 

Just a Boy

            My name is James. I’m an ordinary guy. I grew up in a more or less lower middle class family in a working class neighborhood.  I graduated high school, and had some community college.  Unfortunately my parents could not afford to send me to university. I don’t say this grudgingly.  My parents were hardworking people who grew up during the Great Depression. Also, the fact that I was not particularly smart enough to snag some kind of scholarship did limit my prospects.  I had to work full-time after high school to offer support for the family while trying to attend community college which was difficult.  It was challenging to maintain decent grades.

            My family relocated to Southern California when I was a small boy.  A number of reasons prompted my parents to move across the country from “home.”  The two main ones were better job opportunities, especially for dad, and a better climate for one of my older siblings’ who was born with some pretty severe health issues.  I was young at the time of the move so all I recall was we were taking a really long car ride.

            We didn’t celebrate birthdays much in our family.  There was an occasional present and/or a cake and ice cream for birthdays.  I suppose birthday parties were an extravagance my parents could not afford. 

            We celebrated Christmas though. I remember the expectation of what was going to be under the tree on Christmas morning and of course the inevitable plentiful turkey dinner that evening which mom began the day before with baking plenty of her (and our) traditional favorites.  After New Year’s Day our reused decorations and lights would go back into their boxes and placed in the rafters of the garage until the day after Thanksgiving the next year. 

            I recall only one birthday party when I was about 5 or 6.  Our neighbor’s son with whom I played, his birthday was either the day before or after mine, I forget.  So that year our moms decided to have a birthday party for us at a nearby park, splitting the cost of the goodies, plus using the park was a freebee of course.  David and I were in the same grade so many of our school friends attended.   A small wading pool was there and cake and ice cream and the singing of that song that we are not supposed to sing at birthday parties anymore unless we pay to get permission to use it. 

            The day was an odd event for me.  I’m not completely sure what felt so strange about it.  All I can really say is that after that day I was never keen on parties of any kind since.  Perhaps it’s something I need to spend time on couch talking to ‘Sigmund’ about.  I do recall that even at such a young age I had feelings about some things that at the time I was too immature and at a loss to explain or simply too young to understand it. 

            We moved to a couple different houses after the first one until we finally settled down.  Dad said, “No more moving! I’m nailing your mother’s shoes to the floor.”  My dad was quite the handyman so he was able to make modification to improve the living space.  It was in that house where I spent the rest of my adolescence. I was able to establish some stronger friendships in the neighborhood.

            All of our family summer vacations were road trips.  Dad had procured this fairly large used camping tent. It was made of a heavy military canvas.  If it rained on it, when you touched the inside canvas wall the water would seep through.  It didn’t have pleasant smell either.  So, our vacations were camping out. Often times we stayed in not so official campsites to save on campground fees. 

            My dad loved being on the road. He enjoyed camping and fishing. For my 8th birthday he got me my first fishing rod and reel which I still have it to this day, and yes, we went camping and fishing up north that summer. I caught my first fish on that trip. I got so excited when I hooked it, that poor trout never had a chance.  I just yanked it out of the river on to the river bank within a couple seconds of the first tug on the line.

            Back then there was no such thing as Google or iPhone.  We used folded paper maps dad would get from a gas station.  If he hadn’t planned it already, when we stopped for gas and burgers; he would whip out the ole map, find a blue dot off the main highway and away we went.  Most often we would end up by a beautiful lake or stream.  If my dad had been born a century earlier I’m convinced we would have come to California in a covered wagon he built himself to go west seeking gold.  An explorer with a spirit of adventure my dad was.   I’m grateful to have inherited that gene.

            Mom too loved the outdoors. She was always the happiest when we took our summer treks. She made sure the dog(s) were taken care of with a comfy spot in the back of the station wagon, and that the cooler was stocked with sodas and stuff to make sandwiches (which are still my favorite food).  She loved to roll down the window and take in the smell of the forest we were driving through.  Oh, that fresh air away from the city.  Mom thought smog was the vilest thing mankind had ever produced.

            A couple of different summers we took our holiday to go “back home” to visit grandparents, aunties and uncles, cousins, and old family friends. This gave me the opportunity to actually get to know those whom I was too young at the time of our relocation to California to have gotten to know.  Of course we camped out going there and coming back.  Even though our summer vacations were almost exclusively camping trips, the one treat, if you will, was spending the last night on the road overnight at a motel, with a swimming pool. 

            Not long ago I was going through a bunch, a lot, of old family photos that I was keeping. They had moved with me numerous times over the years.   I noticed a couple of the black and white photos of myself (as an infant) and my siblings next to a 15 foot high statue of Paul Bunyan alongside of his ox Babe in Bemidji MN.  In those days the month and year were stamped on the boarder of photos. My first birthday was spent on a road trip with my family camping in Minnesota.

            During the summers I was allowed to set up the tent in our backyard for a couple weeks.  I and a friend or two or three would sleep outside in that tent.  We would spend most of the night talking, playing cards and board games.  It was for boys only.  Ever since those days whenever I catch the smell of damp canvas I would have flashbacks.  After about two weeks the tent would have to come down and be put away.  The grass beneath where I had set it up had turned yellow.  I was relegated to water it every day until the grass turned green again.  It seemed not to soon afterwards summer was over and it was time for school to start again.  School was always a challenge for me.  Summers were not long enough for this boy. 

            There wasn’t much in the way of school clothes shopping for me.  Being the youngest I was relegated a lot of hand-me-downs.  I was not the most stylish kid in school.  It wasn’t as if I looked like some sort of rag-a-muffin.  Mom made sure any seams that needed sewing were fixed and that there were no buttons missing.  My clothes were always clean.  She never let me wear sox or underwear with holes in them.  I always would get one good pair of dress shoes and a new pair of sneakers.  However, they needed to last the whole school year.  You can be sure that by the end of the school year those shoes were begging me to let them go.  

            I was a relatively shy kid.  I seldom spoke out.  I didn’t like confrontations.  I was only spanked a couple times.  My curiosity would get the best of me and I would do something I wasn’t supposed to and I would get the ole smack across me bum.  My parents were old school.  I learned early how to cover my tracks when I needed to.

            Both my parents worked.  I was what now days is referred to as a latchkey kid.  When I came home from school I had the house to myself.  I was given chores to do.  I learned early how to do laundry, ironing, yard work, cooking, etc.  I had to make certain dinner was on the stove by the time the others got home.  This wasn’t a bad thing in the least. I wasn’t the family “Cinderfella.”   It all helped me develop my sense of responsibility and independence as well as a person who could be trusted to do his job.  Unfortunately, as I grew older it did often make me a bit of a doormat for others who liked to take advantage of my type of personality.

            Mom drilled into me and my siblings to keep the house clean.  “Clean your room make your bed, put your stuff away when you’re done with it" she would tell us.  My parents lived through the Great Depression. They did not have much, and what they had they worked hard to get it, and took good care of it so that it would last.  Mom NEVER wanted anyone who just happened to drop by see the house messy.  She had her pride, and did not want others thinking we were "lazy."   To this day I adhere to mom’s philosophy in that area. I like keeping things tidy.

 

Just a Public School Student

            School was difficult for me.  Not so much the academic stuff. I generally got decent grades.  Socially though I was quite awkward.  Except in certain circumstances, I had, and still have difficulty in large groups of people, especially those of my own age.  I almost never went to any parties, even though I was invited to them.  I’m comfortable when I’m around only a handful of people.  I interact okay then, just okay though.  As I got older I found that I could stand in front of a fairly large crowd and talk as long as it was about a subject matter which I had some expertise.  I have to be prepared though.  If I had to speak in front of large group of people spontaneously, forget about it! 

            In school I usually would sit to the side or in the back of class.  I would never raise my hand unless I was positive I had the right answer and only if no one else was giving an answer to the question.

             I was bullied often by the typical type of guys who were known for that kind of stuff.  I wasn’t a nerd; at least I don’t think I was.  I guess they just liked to zero in on me (or anyone for that matter) because I was a quiet, non-athletic, and a not too attractive person.  As with bigotries of any kind, it’s only what the person doing the bullying sees on the outside and what they perceive about their target.  It’s much easier to debase or put someone down than it is to take the time to see who they really are.  Elementary school was bad enough, high school was a nightmare.

            Growing up we are all trying to figure things out like; who are we, what we like or don’t like, wishing we could change things about ourselves or others.  We want to be like others as well as we desire to be individuals.  Peer pressure is the bane of adolescence as much as acne.  Sometimes even trying to be what our parents want for us to be may cause undue stress to a child.  I was rather fortunate in that my parents never pressured me or my siblings.  Sure they had their hopes for us sometimes making ‘suggestions’ but, in the grand scheme they wanted us to be happy and content with our choices, only as long as our choices didn’t land us in jail.

            My summer before starting high school I suffered from relentless anxiety.  Mostly I was fretting over attending gym class.  As I mentioned I wasn’t very athletic.  I was okay with non-team sports.  I’m basically a non-competitive person.  I participated in some team sports for fun.  As I got older I found most guys were a lot more serious about sports than me, especially with regards to the need to win.  My attitude was more about having fun.  Sports are supposed to be enjoyable.  I realize that winning is the goal, and I was pleased when I or our team won however, I didn’t cry over loosing.  It’s just a game right? 

            The main thing I stressed over was the gym class locker room.  I was horrified over the potential humiliation.  My locker room experience after that first gym class confirmed the reality of all my fears.  I had hoped and prayed that it was not going to be so bad.  But, something happens to teen boys when they are naked around their peers.  For many, if not for most guys, it was their first time.  There was a lot of comparing and “sizing” each other up, and not just in regards to the obvious.  We were freshmen and there were other grade levels in that locker room during the same time.  For me it was one of the most traumatic experiences I had to date.  I had no concept up until then how relentlessly cruel others can be. 

            I had no one with whom I felt I could share my dilemma.  My parents, no way!  Neither of my siblings would do.  Both of them were much older than me and out of high school already. My siblings and I did not share a close or open connection with each other.  The gym teacher, he was a former Marine who did his best to perpetuate my humiliation by giving me a nickname that stuck with me all four years.  Oh, and yes, I got stuck with Mr. Murphy as my gym teacher all four years of high school.  Friends, I had very few during the first year of high school.  There were so many students compared to elementary school.  I sensed that most of the other freshmen were concerned with making their own adjustments to this new environment.   I was feeling quite miserable and alone.

            My experiences with bullying intensified that freshman year.  Fortunately there were so many students at our school that I was able to duck and hide most of the time.  I usually could find somewhat secluded places to eat lunch, and a small group of friends with whom I felt comfortable being around.   I hung out in the library often because bullies as a rule do not.  I would get to my classes early to avoid running into them, and used whichever teacher was there as a “human shield.”  I actually got quite good at evading them.  In subsequent high school years the bulling decreased for the most part.  As well, I made more friends I could hang out with. 

            During those high school years I did try to socialize more as time went on.  I made a couple of friends with whom I became close with.  I did not date much because I was afraid to be alone with a girl.  Although in small group situations, being around girls was cool.  One girl, Penny, I got to know pretty well.  She lived with just her and her mom the next street over from us.  Her dad was killed in a work accident.  Penny’s mom and mine got to be good friends.  They use to gang up on the snooty school PTA president at meetings.  You know the type; always trying to get their way with regards to issues.  Her daughter of course was head cheerleader, going steady with captain of the football team.  Yes, my high school was a big giant cliché made for TV musical.  

            I would do co-ed group things like going ice skating at the local indoor rink, hiking or cycling, bowling, movies or just hanging out playing cards with a couple friends.  I did things that did not involve the pressure of going on a date.

            Sexuality was not nearly as openly discussed as it is these days.  You learned the stuff they taught in sex education classes.  Of course I also heard the exploits that were boasted and bragged about in certain circles.  I wanted to be a ‘normal’ guy but, I had difficulty determining what was normal.   I had desires and attractions like any teenage kid but, I was very confused over that particular aspect of life.  There was still no one in my life with who I felt comfortable having those kinds of discussions with.  My dad never gave me ‘the talk’.  At times I just wanted to be someone else.

            As I said earlier I did okay academically.  I excelled in some subjects.  I did so-so in others.  I did have an aptitude for math, and history. English classes were a stretch.  When it came to grammatical things I struggled.  I did however make up for that when it came to expressing thoughts in essays and stories.  I had a bit of a vivid imagination.  I recall getting a “C” for my grammar on a short story I had written, and an “A” on the content.  The teacher did make a comment on the paper stating, “Bazar story, I found it intriguing and somewhat disturbing at the same time.”  That actually encouraged me to be more individualistic.

            I did have part-time jobs during high school.  I was a restaurant bus boy, a fast food worker, gas station attendant, and did delivers with one of my classmates.  His father owned a small furniture store.

            When I had turned 15 any allowance from the folks ended, and I wanted to get my own car.  Dad taught me how to balance a checkbook.  He also told me I was going to have to pay for my own gas and car insurance.  He was a good teacher regarding the practical aspects of life.  He taught me to drive and to manage basic car repairs.  I was the first one of my friends to score my own set of wheels.  A two tone white and metallic lime green 1962 Mercury Comet, two doors with a 3 speed stick shift.  You can laugh, but it was a sweet ride to me.  BITCHIN!  Hey, I was 15 years old!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Me and the Road

            After graduating high school I and one of classmates decided to take a road trip on our own.  We both had worked and saved some money to do this.  Our parents, our moms in particular were rather wary to let their ‘little boys’ take on such an adventure by themselves.  We mostly allayed those fears when we told them we were going to visit Jeff’s relatives in Montana.  We had mapped it all out (Again, no Google or iPhone yet), planning to make stops in some of the National Parks in route.  Of course there was going to be camping and fishing along the way.  With their reluctant blessing, off we went. 

            It was an awesome trip.  We travelled 5 days before arriving at Jeff’s aunt and uncle’s place in Montana.  They had a log style home in the mountains just outside of Whitefish.  Jeff’s cousin, who was a year older than us, took us to some great fishing spots, and on some awesome hiking trails.

            While there, the aunt and uncle took a weekend excursion to Spokane for their annual “stocking up shopping trip” leaving us fellas with the place to ourselves.  No sooner had they gone when Jeff’s cousin, Wayne, took off telling us he would return in an hour.  When he did returned he was carrying into the house a large cooler full of bottles of beer.  Now I had sipped alcohol before but, as I mentioned I was no party guy.  Jeff had never had any alcohol at all to my knowledge. 

            Although Wayne was not of legal age, he had an older friend who would buy beer for him for a small fee.  At first I was not sure how to handle this situation.  But, when Wayne handed me the bottle, I opened it and began taking short sips.  Jeff just sat there with the bottle in his hand for a while obviously not sure what to do either.  Finally Wayne said, “Common Cuz, drink up.”   Jeff finally said, “what the hell’ and fumbling finally getting the cap off the bottle. We spent the afternoon drinking out on the porch which wrapped around 3 sides of the house.  We sat drinking while watching the sunset.  I remember feeling very relaxed.

            I glanced over and notice Wayne had moved his chair very close to Jeff.  I was trying not to stare at what was happening.   Wayne had put his hand on Jeff’s knee and was slowly moving it up his leg.  I was a taken aback at this action but more so because Jeff was not stopping him.  At first I thought it was because he was now quite drunk.  Then I saw him look towards Wayne with small grin.  This had gone on for a while.  I was trying not to look however; it was going on right in front of my eyes.  I did not know what to do.  I would look away and then found myself staring back at this scene. 

            After what seemed an endless period of time, Wayne stood up taking Jeff’s hand leading him into the house.  Just before the door closed Wayne asked me if I wanted to come inside too.  I was at a loss at for words at first.  There was a part of me that was curious.  My heart was pounding as if I had run a mile.  I took a long swig of my beer, and replied something to the effect of ‘No, I’m good.”

            I stayed out on the porch drinking until it got very late.  I was imagining what was going on in the room upstairs.  I had never been in a situation before where this kind of thing was a choice.  Should I have gone with them?   Did I want to?   Honestly I was quite scared.  Sometime that night I moved back into the house and woke up on the couch in the living room.

            The aunt and uncle returned on that next afternoon.  Jeff and I left the following morning to head home.  It was a very long quiet ride this time.  In the back of my mind I was thinking about if I had failed to respond in the way Jeff had hoped or was it spontaneous thing that just happened between him and his cousin.  We hadn’t planned extra stops on our return.  I kind drove as if I was on a mission to break the sound barrier.  I had known Jeff since our sophomore year. We shared much in common.  We liked doing many of the same activities.  He kind of did have it rough at home though.  I saw much of what he was dealing with when I was over at his house however; he never wanted to talk about it and I never pressured him.  He always had a comedic air about him making jokes and seemed to love anything that made him laugh. 

            A few hours before our trip ended we had stopped for gas and a bite to eat.  We were sitting at a picnic table that was next to a lake there.  Finally Jeff said, “I’m sorry about what happened.”  That started a flood of conversation between us. 

            He shared with me about the first time with his cousin when he was 14 visiting them.  How he struggled with how he felt about it all.  Jeff started to tear-up. I confessed how confused I was when it happened.  I told him that I wanted to keep his friendship and that it meant a lot to me.  It was the first time I realized how important acceptance is in any relationship.  We talked for a long time before we got back on the road.  As we walked to the car I embraced him and told him that nothing was different between us except that we know each other better now.  Jeff smiled and said, “I love you Jimmy.”  I never had anyone outside of family ever say that to me.  It felt good.  There was considerably less tension for the remainder of our drive home.

            Jeff and I stayed in touch afterwards for several years.  Nevertheless, work, distance (Both of us had moved far away from each other), and the passing of time resulted in less contact.

            We wrote to each other (no email yet) and occasionally one of us would call the other.   Eventually our contacting one another became less frequent.  Many years later I reached out to him through another former classmate.  He was doing well and gotten into a serious relationship with a guy.  He was happy and seemed quite content with his life.  I was glad to hear things worked out for him.  Meanwhile, for me, life was still a battle to find out who I really was.  I was actually a little jealous that he was able to move forward emotionally. 

            I still prefer going on road trips when I travel.  More often than not I traveled alone.  I would take an occasional trip with a friend.  I still enjoy camping and fishing.  Like dad sometimes I would just get out the map, find a blue speck somewhere off the main highway and away I would go.

            I had one friend with whom I went on snow skiing trips with.  One time we took a trip all through the big name ski areas in Colorado, two whole weeks.  It was a blast.  We did have an incident though where we hit a patch of ice on the road and the car spun out of control.  We were sliding backwards and at the last second I let out the clutch while in first gear and the car stopped.  We got out and saw that we were a foot away from going over the embankment into a cold fast flowing river.  It was definitely a ‘Thank You Jesus’ moment.

            My most memorable trip was traveling through Alaska, and the Yukon in Canada.  A friend was supposed to come with me but he had to back out so I did it on my own.  I rented a car for a couple weeks, got a map from AAA and took off from Anchorage after stocking up on snacks and stuff to make sandwiches at the Safeway.  

            Some nights I would stay in a hotel/motel, and some nights camping out.  I say nights but up there, during the summer the sun just barely dips below the horizon. That does mess with the mind a bit if you’re not use to it.    

            I managed to drive all the way past the Arctic Circle along the Dempster Highway in the Yukon.  What a trip!   It actually changed my perspective on my place in the universe.  When you stand by the side of the road there where you can see probably 100 miles in every direction and not spot a single human being, the world became a very lonely place.  It was a life changing moment for me.

            I’ve had my share adventures on several of my trips.  I’ve had encounters with bears and other wild animals, along with storms, and being caught in a white-out on trip through the Canadian Rockies one winter. 

            I don’t mind flying.  It gets you to places quickly however, there is nothing like being at ground-level where you can see all there is to see.  Plus, it’s just me and the road.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Me and Dad

            I had not really experience having someone close to me die yet.  When I was still a small boy I had grandparents who had passed away.  I did not really know them well because we lived so far apart.  I had some vague recollections of being with a couple of them when I was a kid.  They died however before I was old enough to appreciate the loss. 

            My first encounter with death was when a close friend of my older brother died.  Kevin had recently received a letter informing him that he had been select to be drafted into the army.  At the time odds were he would be sent to Viet Nam.  Kevin got himself caught up in an organization which later on was described as a religious cult.  He hoped that their anti-war stance would help him get a religious exemption.  The exemption he applied for was denied, and he was order to report for his induction physical. 

            A couple days after he was supposed to report, my brother received a call from Kevin’s mom.  His body was discovered floating in the ocean.  Later his car was located not too far from where his body had been found.  There was an investigation.  The police thought that perhaps the cult he was involved with may have had something to do with what happened to him.  With no real evidence though, they eventually ruled his death a suicide. 

            Our family knew Kevin well.  He was a frequent guest at our dinner table.  He and my brother were both into tinkering with cars.  My brother was pretty distraught over the loss of one of his best friends.  Our whole family felt the grief.   I was still in high school when this happened.  It took me a long time to process the event.

            About a year and a half after I graduated high school I was attending community college and working a job in a warehouse.   I was struggling with keeping up with studying and working full-time.  My grades were slipping.

            While working in the warehouse one afternoon (I was on the swing shift), my supervisor informed me of a phone call in the office.  It was dad on the line.  He told me my mom and brother were involved in car accident and they were both killed.  I sank into the chair next to me in disbelief.  I was completely shocked and stunned.  I hung up the phone and my supervisor Gene could see it in my face.  He asked what was wrong.  I told him what happened.  I didn’t know what to do.

            I got up from the chair, and went back into the warehouse and continued working.  A few minutes later Gene came in to the warehouse and told me to go home.  I don’t even recall driving home.  It wasn’t until dad, who was also at work when it happened got home, that I broke down sobbing uncontrollably.  I had just turned 20 two weeks earlier.

            A week later family and friends gathered for the funeral.  I was numb to everything and everyone around me.  I couldn’t talk, eat or feel anything.  Dad and sis were not much better off.  My sister’s husband took care of a lot of the details.  A few days later though, they all went home and it were just me and dad in the house.  The following Monday dad went back to work.  I went back to school to get caught up and I went back to my job the Monday after.

            Not being particularly close with my coworkers I was touched when I got back and Gene came up to me handing me an envelope with cash in it.  They had taken a collection for me.  Gene said, “It’s not much but hopefully it may help take care of some stuff.  I’m so sorry for your loss.”   Gene had a pretty gruff exterior.  I noticed though his caring inner spirit during that time.  He was constantly checking with me to make sure I was okay on the job.

            It was a couple months before I entertained any semblance of socializing.  Mom and Eddy were gone.  There was a huge whole in my life.  I lost focus on any type of goals I had set for myself.  Jeff came over a couple of times.  I was not much fun to be around.  I felt guilty when I attempted any sort of enjoyable activity with him.  He was a good friend though and he didn’t mind sitting quietly with me. 

            One day another former classmate, Randy with whom I worked with in his father’s furniture store, knocked on the door.   “Hey.  Sorry for not coming by sooner. I saw you at the funeral and you were pretty out-of-it.” 

            Randy had moved away soon after high school trying to find himself as were so many of us after graduating.  He recently moved back helping again at the furniture store.  His dad was getting up there in years and was pondering selling out and semi-retiring to northern California somewhere.  He had been selling furniture for 25 years and had a bit of a nest egg socked away.  He had his eyes on a little general store near Lake Shasta.  That sounded nice to me.  Randy was assisting him while he was trying to find a buyer for the business. 

            In school Randy and I knew one another through mutual friends.  He and Jeff hung out often.  They had a couple classes together.  Randy was an average looking guy.  He was involved in sports more than I.  Randy was on the wrestling team for a while and he played on the JV baseball team.  Additionally he was also in the drama club and took part in the small radio station on campus.  He was only ever in one class that I was in for a semester in high school. 

            Our conversation that evening centered on general things such as catching up on what other of our school mates were doing.   He told me some of what he had been doing when he moved away.  He was not into college but he did want to get into a profession where he could make a difference.

            As our conversation sort hit a lull Randy said to me, “Well man if you ever want to talk just give me a call.  We can always find something to do if you want.”   As he turned to me before he went out the door, he put his hand on my shoulder close to my neck giving me a gentle squeeze and then he left.

            Dad was kind of in another world during this time.  He was an avid golfer and spent his days off at the local links.  At night he was often going to the night harness races.  He loved to bet on the ponies.  He seemed to always be trying a new system to beat the odds.  I guess he was doing anything and everything to keep his mind occupied.  A majority of the time I had the house to myself.

            Randy started coming by more frequently especially when dad was not home.  He came over one Friday night when dad had taken a long weekend to play in a company golf tournament in Palm Springs.  That is when it happened.

            We had been watching some TV, Randy asked if I would rub his neck saying he hurt it while lifting heavy furniture that day.  He turned his back to me and I began to massage his shoulders and neck.  After several minutes Randy peeled his t-shirt off stating that it would be better to rub him without the shirt on.  He started making low sounds enjoying the massage.  I had not done anything like this prior so I was glad I was doing it correctly, I guess.  After a while he said to me. “Now it’s your turn.” 

            He had me remove my shirt and told me to lie on my stomach.  His touch was gentle but at times he would push deeper into the muscles.  He was massaging me far longer than I had done to him.  He obviously had done this before.  Finally, I had to have him stop. I plainly told him I was starting to get aroused.  When I turned over to get up he was smiling at me and said, “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”   I looked down I saw that he had a bulge in his pants.  The next thing I knew he took my hand and we were heading to my bedroom.

            That night was my very first time having sex, and it was with a guy.  When I woke up early the next morning my mind was flooded with all kinds of thoughts and emotions.  I needed a shower.  After which I went into the kitchen to make coffee. 

            Randy stumbled sleepy-eyed into the kitchen.  Not saying very much that morning except, “Is that coffee I smell?”   After a couple of cups Randy helped himself to the shower, and got dressed to go to work.  With a sly grin and a wink he left saying, “Thanks for the coffee.”

OMG, THANKS FOR THE COFFEE!?  I was extremely confused now.

            I didn’t see Randy after that.  I wasn’t about to call him.  I kinda wanted to, but I was hoping I was never going to see him again.  I told myself this was a fluke, a mistake, an error in judgement.  NO, NO, NO!  I kept thinking about what had happened over and over in my mind. 

            When dad came back from his tournament he told me that he wanted to take trip back home to see the family there.  Summer was coming and he had 3 weeks’ vacation, and he asked me to go with him.  “Yes” I thought because, given what had happened, I wanted to get as far away as possible. 

            My job would not grant me that much time off, so I quit.  I had a bit of money saved, I was not planning to do warehouse work the rest of my life, and I can always find something else when we got back.

            Dad and I, and our dog of course, hit the road.  We made pretty good time getting there.  Dad was anxious to see his sister (Auntie Jean).   I was glad to be far away and to hang out with my cousins.  We went fishing at all of dad’s favorite spots as well as a couple new ones.  At last my head was clearing up from what had happened that night with Randy.

            When we got back from the trip dad was offered and early retirement package from his work.  A major contract they had was winding down.  They made the early out offers so they would not have to lay so many people off.  Dad took the deal and placed the house up for sale. 

            I had gotten a part-time job and went back to school taking a lighter load of classes.  However, when the house was sold, dad used his proceeds to purchase an RV.  He loaded it up taking his golf clubs and fishing gear, and he and pooch hit the road.  I had to get a place of my own.  Now I had the new responsibility of apartment rent, utilities, etc., I needed to let school go and start working full-time. 

            For the most part I had blocked out of my mind what occurred between me and Randy.  Yet, whenever I saw anyone who reminded me of him, the thoughts retuned.  I later found out that his dad sold the furniture store and that Randy ended up moving to Lake Shasta with his family.

            While on the road trip with dad I could not get over the feeling from having been left so abruptly by Randy.  Was he just using me, and why did I let him do that?   Further along in my adult life I did developed a pattern where I let people use my good natured attitude so that they might like me more.  I became an enabler.  “Isn’t that right Sigmund?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Me

            In my early twenties I was on my own now working full time in a customer service role.  I soon became a trainer for new employees.  I had developed training programs that were used for new hires; as well I created annual retraining programs for current employees.  I had a natural ability as a trainer (the subject matter expert) and enjoyed doing it. 

            In my new position I was traveling frequently to train people in other cities.  At times I would be gone as much as a month.  Often my task was to setup those who would train others at their locations in the future.  By the time I turned thirty I had earned the lofty title of National Director for Corporate Training.  Not bad for someone who did not have a college degree.  My professional life was on track.  However, my personal life was not so much.  Since the incident with Randy I was afraid to let anyone get close to me.  My friendships for the most part were superficial.  Traveling for work so often made it easy for me to keep it that way. 

            I was able to travel for pleasure since I was making a fairly good salary.  I went to Europe a couple times, as well as Asia.  While in Europe I noticed more openness in their attitudes toward relationships and social norms.  I started to realize that perhaps I was wound a bit too tight.  I started exploring ways to loosen up and let some of my inhibitions go.  I was able to meet people on my own socially and not just through business dealings, especially when I was traveling.  I figured, I’ll probably never see this person again so I won’t concern myself with whether the person will really like me all that much or worry about developing the relationship.  This thought process worked well for a while.  I could go up to a total stranger, put out my hand to shake and say, “Hi I’m James, what is your name?”  This may sound easy enough for most people, but it was a huge step for me. 

            Then a guy I met while on a trip that included Korea surprised me.  You can probably guess how it went; you say something like, “Hey, if you ever get to California, give me a call and we’ll hang out.”  Son-of-a-gun, 4 months later I got a call from Joon.  He was coming to L.A. in a couple of weeks. 

            He was a university student I had met while in Korea who was coming to California for his summer break from school.   Of course he was on a budget and asked me if he could stay at my place with me.  “Oh crap!”   Well, being the nice guy that I am, and being a man of my word, I told him yes.  I did tell him though that I would be working the week days during his visit so he would be on his own during that time.  He seemed fine with that.  I felt quite certain that having a place to stay was what he really cared about.

            Joon arrived on a Monday so I left work a bit early to pick him up at LAX.  He seemed genuinely happy to see me (Or was he just glad I hadn’t stood him up?).   As we drove to my place he was talking all the way, asking question about everything from the amusement parks, Hollywood, and all sights to see in Southern California.  His English was good.  I hadn’t needed to ask him to repeat himself very much.  I began to relax and was feeling good about him visiting.  

            When we got to my place he remarked that there was so much more space than he had in his home.  He still lived with his parents to save on his school expenses.   I told him to use the shower to freshen up after his long flight, to change clothes, and we will go out to eat. 

            A short time later he emerged from the bathroom still somewhat wet wearing only a towel and with his toothbrush in his mouth.  He rummaged through the rather large suitcase he brought looking for what he wanted to wear.  He had a tone body from his tennis playing which he previously told me was his favorite sport.  With no inhabitation he dropped the towel and put his clothes on in front of me.  In my mind I was thinking, “It’s the gym class locker room all over again.”

            I could tell as we were eating that the jetlag was catching up with Joon.  So when we were done I suggested we go back to my place so he can catch up on his sleep.  As soon as we were inside I made up the futon for him.  When I was finished I turned around and saw he had striped to his undershorts already.  Before he crawled into the sheets, Joon turned to me and embraced me.  “Thank you so much for allowing me to visit at your home.”   He then gave me peck on my cheek and got into bed.  I’m sure he was asleep within seconds.  He is such a sweet guy I thought.

            The following morning Joon was still asleep when I left for work.  I left him a note and a key to the door.  He had told me he had a tourist book to help him get around so he was on his own for the day.

            When I got home that night Joon was already there and began telling all of what he had seen and done that day.  He asked me a lot of questions and wanted to know when I might get off work where I could go places with him.  I did feel bad because here is this young man in a foreign country for the very first time trying to see as much as he could on his own.  The next day at work I told them I wanted to take some of my comp time I was owed and take the next few days off.  That night I told Joon I could spend the rest of his time here with him.  He jumped up and embraced as before for a little bit longer this time and more strongly than he had the first time.

            We went everywhere, within reason, to see and do whatever he wanted to see and do.  I have to admit his excitement at seeing things he had only read about or seen on TV rubbed off on me.  When you’ve live in a place for a long time you tend to take the things that make that place special for granted.   

            On Saturday night Joon ask if I knew where a place was that he had found in his tourist book.  I looked at the address and told him that I could find it on my map.  It looked in his book to be a night club, something which was not necessarily on my list of things I was into at the time.  But I thought what the heck try something new James.  The place was in the Hollywood area on Sunset Blvd. 

            You need to know I was very naïve about clubbing.  I had only been to one club while in New York where I was training employees on new procedures.  It was the last night after a week of training and some of the students in the class wanted to take me out on the town.  We landed in a Latin disco.  It was interesting and fun but I can’t dance.  I did enjoy the atmosphere though, as well as watching the others dancing.  Some of them were quite good; I guessed this was a regular thing for them.

            After parking we found the entrance to the club.  The music inside was kinda loud and the club was very crowded.  It was of course, Saturday night.  We managed to locate a table and order our drinks.  I figured to stick with beer so I could sip slowly to make it last.  I didn’t want to have too much because I was driving that night.  Joon ordered some fruity type drink that came in a very large martini-type glass.  He was enjoying the club atmosphere and seem to like the music seeing as he was swaying to the beat. 

            It didn’t take long for me to notice that the club was full of almost all men, many of whom were dancing with each other shirtless.  Uh oh!  What had I gotten myself into?   More important, did Joon already know what kind of club this was?   Was he just curious or were these the kind of places he frequented in Korea?   I finally had to ask him if he had been to clubs like this before.   He smiled at me and said, “Yes. I like going to these clubs all the time.”   His response answered a lot my questions but stirred up plenty of new ones.

            I was quite uncomfortable there for a while.  Joon asked if I wanted to dance.   I told him that I don’t dance, but I let him know if he wanted to find someone else to dance with to go right ahead.   He made his way to the dance floor where he took off his shirt and began to dance with a couple of other shirtless guys.  I sat sipping my beer and observing my surroundings wondering how long we might be here. 

            The beer eventually helped me relax and not feel too awkward.  I thought that if someone approached me to chat I was just going to let them know I was with someone.  I was however curious if anyone might be interested in talking with me.  We stayed at the club for a couple hours.

            On the ride home Joon was feeling his liquor and thanking me for taking him to a ‘real Hollywood club’.   During the drive Joon was caressing my arm.  After we got inside my place I was thinking this boy is going to probably spend his last day before going home sleeping it off. 

            He stood facing me as he took off his clothes to go to bed.  He finally said, “I had a lot of guys at the club who wanted to take me home with them.”  “I told them that I was with someone.”  “I told them I only wanted to be with you.”   He then leaned forward and began kissing me.  I was stunned at first but I actually found I was enjoying him doing that and not wanting to push him away.  “What was happening?”   Here was this very fit, handsome, almost completely naked younger man kissing me and pressing his body against mine.

            Joon spent the night in my bed with me instead of on the futon.  Although he had quite a bit of alcohol to drink, I experienced a long passionate sensual night with him. 

            As I expected, Joon slept in until around 1 o’clock in the afternoon that Sunday.  After he showered and we ate lunch I asked him if he would like to spend the rest of the day at Venice Beach.   He liked that idea, so off we went. 

            Something very different happened to me while at the beach.  I was staring at other guys in a way that surprised me.  Some ten years had passed since my experience with Randy.  Now a second experience had occurred with Joon last night.  During all that time I had remained completely celibate.  I was very sexually inhabited.  I had a lot of trouble believing that anyone would be interested in me, in ‘that way,’ especially someone like Joon who was younger, athletic, and good looking.  Another fluke encounter I thought?

            At the beach I was staring at some younger guys.  Guys my own age or older guys did not seem to catch my attention.  Joon saw me looking at a young Latino guy and asked me, “Do you like him?”   I was almost afraid to answer him because it would be divulging what for a long time I tried to hide.  Plus, I did not want to offend him.  However, I finally answered and said, “He’s attractive but, so are you.”   Joon grinned at my reply. After coming home we showered, together, and then spent another night of intense passion.         

            The next day I was sad taking Joon to the airport.  I wanted him to stay longer in order to explore this new side of me.  As I left him at the airport, we promised to see each other again.  It turned out though, we never would.   My lack of self-esteem was creeping in to where I wondered if the sex was a way of him just saying, “Thanks for the coffee.”

            After Joon I went a long time remaining celibate.  Because of the type of men I was attracted to, I didn’t really believe I would find another one like him until I discover gay dating lines (Before apps came into existence.).   I was pretty much honestly descriptive of myself when it came to describing me in the profiles.  I would clearly describe the type/age that I was seeking.  This helped me to connect with guys who seemed to be into guys like me.  This ended up being my go to method to hookup for a period of time.  Mostly it resulted in one-night-stands.  Of course there were the inevitable liars who exaggerated their looks and who pretended to be into whatever I was looking for but in reality were not. 

            A couple of times I met guys who I ‘dated’ more than one time but ultimately they moved on when they found somebody really more to their liking.  This perpetuated my feelings of inadequacies.  I kept at it though for quite some time hoping I might find Mr. Right.  I wasted a lot of time with no success.  I was left with a tremendous feeling of hopelessness.  I had come to terms with my sexual orientation however; I was never sure where it was going to take me.  My personal life was actually quite pathetic.

            In the meantime my professional life was going well.  I was offered an opportunity to relocate with my company in moving my department to their new headquarters in Chicago.  I was in my mid-thirties and I was ready for a life change.  A new beginning if you will.  I packed up my earthly belongings and off to the Windy City I went.  “This isn’t Southern California anymore Toto!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just a Life Change

            Chicago for me was a radical change.  Although I had a car, I became a rail commuter (The EL Trains).   I was more centrally located in the country now so having to travel for business became somewhat easier with not having those lengthy trans-con flights.  The winter weather was an adjustment to say the least.

            Dad was now passed away but since I was situated closer to ‘home’ I could visit some of my relatives more frequently.  While I had embraced my sexuality, I remained in the closet to family, friends and coworkers.  I had self-imposed my own “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.  What I did in the bedroom was no one else’s concern.   I had no need to attend Pride events or wave a rainbow flag.   Whenever anyone made a homophobic comment I simply ignored it.  I was not about to be a spokesperson or megaphone for the movement.  That was not my style.

            What I did discover living in Chicago was that there were a number of gay bars and clubs in an area known as Boystown.  Not that I frequented them too often.  I did go out to one or two on occasion.  It was on one night at one a bar I liked that I unexpectedly ran into a coworker, Luis.  When we first noticed each other it was a bit uneasy.  Like me, Luis was closeted.  I had noticed him around the office before.  I thought he was nice-looking.  He checked off a few of the boxes as to the type I was attracted to.

            Once the uncomfortable moment passed I asked if I could buy him a drink.  He didn’t appear to be with anyone.  We sat at a table and began chatting about this-and-that.  Eventually we came around to ask about each other more personally;  i.e., how long had we known about our sexuality, were we seeing anyone, etc.  Though Luis was my type, I surmised quickly that I was not his.  That was okay though.  I was grateful to have someone to talk to about this stuff, as was Luis. 

            We agreed to not talk at work about any of it.  We worked in different areas of our office which helped to maintain our little secret.  We did meet up now and then at a bar or club.  We became very good friends.  Luis acted a bit more flamboyant in the clubs.  He had a great sense of humor and was trying to get me to talk to this guy or that guy.  Not that Luis felt sorry for me or anything like that.  He just wanted me to experience more of the atmosphere of the club and the lifestyle.  At the office though, we both played it straight by talking about things like sports, etc. around the other guys.  It was a tad bit exhausting sometimes keeping up the act.

            Luis turned me on dating apps that were now coming online.  He told me that as long they posted an accurate picture, you could see what they looked like before meeting up.  Luis found several of his type of guys on these apps.  Luis is an attractive Latino guy originally from Panama.  Although he spoke in the office with very little detectable accent, in the club he would revert to using an accent.  As Luis put it, “Guys think of me as exotic and sexy when I use the accent.”   The guys whom he preferred were always hitting on him.  I had to admit I was jealous.  Where were the men for me???

            One day Luis approached me at work and told me that his cousin Orlando was coming to visit from Panama for a few weeks.  At that time Luis was involved in very large work project and asked if I could help show his cousin around the city when he had to work late.  I agreed to but, of course, only after I meet his cousin first.  I mean, what if we don’t like each other? 

            Orlando arrived the following Saturday and I went to Luis’ for dinner to do a meet and greet.   When we first met I thought to myself, “Good looks run in the family!”  Orlando’s English was quite good.  He came off as very shy.  This was his first trip outside of Panama.  I sensed he was intimidated by being in such a large city like Chicago.  He grew up in a relatively small town along the Caribbean coast of Panama.  His first experience of a big city was when he travelled to Panama City to catch his flight to Chicago.   I did my best to make him feel welcome and comfortable. 

            Luis told him that I would be taking him around on the evenings when he had to work late.  Orlando was okay with that arrangement.  I asked him what kind of interests he had and was there anything that in particular he was curious to see.  He told me he was wanting see what Chicagoans like to do.  Orlando wanted to experience what everyday life in the city was like and meet real Americans in person.  His only concept was what he had seen on TV or in the movies. 

            After dinner and some conversation and a couple beers I went home.  Luis walked me to the front door of his apartment building.  He thanked me for being so welcoming to his cousin.  On my way home on the train I had lots of thoughts about Orlando.  He was very handsome, athletic, and had a wonderful way about him.  Not to mention he had a beautiful smile that somewhat melted me.  I was just hoping I could show him a wonderful time with lots of memories to return to Panama with.

            On the Monday Luis and I had lunch together.  He told me that Orlando told him he enjoyed meeting me and that he looked forward to hanging out with me.  Luis also told me he was working late Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, and would I be available those nights to find stuff to do with Orlando?   I told him that I would be happy to.  There was a Cubs game on Wednesday night, and I asked Luis if he thought Orlando would enjoy that.  “Absolutely, he loves baseball, Orlando played baseball in school.”  That was one evening covered hopefully I will come up with something for the following nights. 

            When I picked up Orlando that evening he greeted me with a big hug and said he couldn’t believe where I was taking him.  I told him we would eat at the stadium.  There he can sample Chicago ballpark fare.  He was so excited.  It was as if I was taking a kid on his first trip to Disneyland.  It delighted me to watch him absorb a true American cultural experience.

            Afterwards we met up with Luis at a bar near his apartment (a straight sports bar).  Orlando could not stop talking about the game telling Luis every detail including having a Chicago-style hot dog of which he downed three of them.  Before we parted to go home Orlando gave me a hug again, thanking me for such a wonderful time and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek.  I wanted to kiss him back but I didn’t want to be too presumptuous.

            At work the next day Luis confirmed that I would meet up with Orlando again.  I told him it was no problem however, I wasn’t sure I could top taking him to the ball game. 

            That evening we ended up going to the top of Willis Tower.   It was clear night to see the whole city skyline at sunset.  Orlando must have taken a hundred pictures.  He took several pictures with me in them and then asking people to take pictures of the two of us. 

            Afterwards we went out for Chicago deep dish pizza at a place I knew.  I was starting to feel as if I was on a date.  While I was watching Orlando savor a bite of pizza, I started to check what I was feeling inside. “What are you doing James? “  “He is way out of your league.” “Besides, he is going back to Panama in couple of weeks.”   “Plus, he’s not gay, right?” 

             Orlando wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin, he reached his hand across the table and took mine squeezing it gently, and with that beautiful smile he said, “James, you are the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”   WHOA!  What just happened?   I was speechless.  I wanted to pull my hand back but then again, I didn’t.  I wasn’t sure if he was expressing feelings that were normal in the Latin culture.  I’ve only known this guy a few days.  He’s my good friend’s cousin.  OMG!  What do I do?   Suddenly he let go of my hand, lowered his head and said, “I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you.”  “No, I’m just surprised” I replied.   Then in a lowered voice I ask, “Are you gay?”   He nodded yes.  I said, “Luis never mentioned it.”  He explained that in his culture, in small towns especially, it is not spoken of openly.  “Luis does not know.”   He said this is why he wanted to come to a place like Chicago to hopefully experience more openness.  I let him know that I understood and that after we finish eating we should go back to my place and talk where there were no people around.   With a smile and a wink I said, “Enjoy your meal my friend.”

            We took a cab to my place.  I had left a message on Luis’ machine that we had a bit too much to drink and we were crashing at my place.  Orlando and I talked for several hours.  We told each other our stories and struggles.  We cried and hugged and opened our hearts.  I wanted to make certain that any feelings we were having for each other were genuine.  He has been in the closet his whole life, and I barely had one foot outside the closet myself.  I was concerned that I was not someone he was going to use to get out of his closet.  I truly like Orlando.  My insecurities were beating me up though.  I wanted to know for sure that this handsome, beautiful, sweet man actually wanted me.  I had been taken advantage of far too many times.  We finally fell asleep somewhere around two in the morning.  There was no sex.

            I woke with my alarm.  I called my work and told them I was taking a sick day and then climbed back into bed.  I woke up again around 9, got up and made coffee.  As I sat there looking at Orlando sleeping I wondered what was going to happen when he woke up and open his eyes?   Was he going to freak out when he realized what happened last night?  Will he regret having told me about himself?  Will he regret that I was the person he revealed himself to?  Damn my low self-esteem!

            When Orlando did open his eyes and flashed that beautiful smile of his he asked, “Is that coffee I smell?”  I led him to the kitchen table and poured him a cup.  We sat silent for a little while and then he asked when I needed to leave for work?   I told him that I had taken the day off.  He smiled again and told me he was glad to hear that.  I asked him what he thought he might want to do that day.  He gently took my hand as he had done the night before, leaning into me giving me a long passionate kiss. 

            Leading me back to the bedroom he began taking off his shirt revealing what I had already expected; a toned, muscular, smooth body.  I immediately became a little frightened.  Was he going to be disappointed when he saw me shitless?   I removed my shirt with my back towards him not realizing he could see me in the closet door mirror.  When I turned around he smiled at me and said, “James, you excite me.”   He had removed is trousers and then I could see that he was sporting a very large erection in his speedo-style shorts.  He then took those off and moved towards me.  He started to kiss me passionately making me quiver.  He started to undo my pants and I whispered, “I hope you’re not displeased.”  He moved down to his knees as he took my pants and shorts all the way off.   I looked down at him as he smiled up at me and started orally pleasuring me.   My head was swimming.  I almost lost control.  I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulled him up to engage in more kissing.  I kept thinking this was all a dream and I was going to suddenly wake up. 

            We moved on to the bed and Orlando was insatiable.  He was pleasuring me as no man had ever done before.  This went on for I don’t know how long; I looked at him and said something to the effect, “You’ve had lots of practice.”   He looked into my eyes and replied, “No my love, I have waited such a very long time for a man like you.  You are so wonderful and I can feel your love for me.  I just want to make certain that you know how much I want you and need you.  I wish to pleasure you James.”   With those words he went down continuing his oral service.

            His touch was ever so gentle as he caressed my body.  He seemed to enjoy finding all those ‘spots’ that caused me to moan with delight.  Once I caught my breath I decided it was his turn.  Orlando liked me exploring his body with my lips and tongue.  It was as if every place I touched him were his ‘spots.’   We held each other for a while.  His body was like a rock which made me feel like a bowl of jelly.  He told me that when I started rubbing and caressing his nipples he could not control himself.  We remained naked most of the day.  I lost track of how many orgasms we each had.

            All too soon it was time for him to go back to his cousin’s place.  I told Orlando that he needed to tell Luis about him being gay.  I never divulged to him that I knew Luis was also gay.  That is something that was not my place to reveal.   I wished though that I could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.  “So what did you and James do all day?”

            On Saturday the three of us got together.  Luis didn’t say much.  I wondered if Orlando had even told him.  If he had, perhaps Luis was upset with me.  After dinner Luis suggested we go to Cannon’s a local very popular gay club.  “Okay with me” I said.  Orlando said. “Is that the gay club you were telling me about?”  I was a tad bit confused about who knew what. 

            When we got to the club Orlando took hold of my hand as we walked in.  I whispered to Orlando asking if everything was okay.  He replied with a kiss on the cheek and whispered back, “It is very okay my love.”   Luis looked down at us holding hands and smiled.  I was relieved that everything was out in the open. 

            At work on Monday Luis told me that he was working late the rest of the next week and would I mind if Orlando stayed at my place.  My heart leapt.  I said that he was most certainly welcome to stay with me.  I was a bit anxious though wondering how it would be being together a whole week.  Would Orlando get tired of me and move on to someone in his own class, as it were?  My low self-esteem was making me doubt that the one day of intense passion was just that, a onetime thing?  (Thanks for the coffee).

            When I got home I found Orlando sitting on the front stoop with his suitcase.  As soon as we entered my apartment he set his suitcase down smiling at me he started kissing me.  He told me he had been thinking about me all day and was eager to kiss me.  He told me that it was Luis’ suggestion to come stay with me.  He was surprised when he came out to Luis that Luis told him that he was gay as well.  He said they talked a lot that night.  Luis was shocked when Orlando had told him about our time together. 

            As is pretty typical in the gay community, hunky men usually prefer being with other hunky men.  Orlando told his cousin that he was never attracted to men who “were just like him.”   He wasn’t looking for a man that he might feel he was in competition with.  There was so much machismo back home in Panama.  Orlando told him he was looking for a man, who was kind, loving, compassionate as well as passionate.  He told Luis that he felt very strongly towards me. That he loved me.

            After telling me all this I put my arms around Orlando holding him as tightly as I could and started crying.  He asked if I was alright.  I told him that I loved him as well and that I would spend the rest of my life doing whatever I could to make him happy.  We embraced for a very long time. We both cried. 

            That night I made dinner for us. We sat and talked a long while. When it was time to go to bed, we undress and pressed our naked bodies together.  I started to play with him, he said, “Not tonight.  I want us to be about more than sex.”   I kissed him goodnight and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. No one is perfect but I had found the almost perfect man.

            As time started to run out when Orlando’s tourist visa was going to expire, Luis and I were researching how we could get it extended and perhaps find a way to allow him to stay in the U.S.  Immigration rules had change from when Luis had come to America.  Things had become more complicated.  We wanted to make sure everything was legal.  I hired an Immigration Lawyer who basically told us that Orlando would need to return to Panama and apply from there to immigrate to the U.S.  He would need to try and find an employer who was willing to sponsor him.  I wrote a letter that said I would give him accommodations, and Luis was a family member who was also willing to sponsor and help support him.

            When the day came to take Orlando to O’Hare for his trip back to Panama, I was heartbroken.   On the ride home Luis did all he could to comfort me.  Although Luis was skeptical at first, he came to see and understand that Orlando and I were deeply in love. 

            As soon as I got back to my apartment I was making plans for vacation time to visit Orlando in Panama.  I did not mention to him that I was planning this.  I did not want him to be disappointed if it didn’t work out.  During this time Luis and I became closer friends.  We talked and hung out together more often than we previously had.  When I was around him it felt as if Orlando was there also.

            When I moved to Chicago it was a new beginning for me. New friends, new environment, more professional challenges, I never imagined I would find the love of my life.  The type of man I had dreamed and hoped for.  But now, he is 2000 plus miles away and I don’t know when we might be together again.  I MISS HIM SO MUCH!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Solo Mamacita

(Just Little Mama)

 

            Luis wisely suggested that I tell Orlando about my plans to visit Panama.  He reminded me about the attitude in the culture of his home town towards gays.  It would not be a good idea to show up at the front door of their house saying, “Hola, soy el amante gay de Orlando de Chicago.”  (Hello, I’m Orlando’s gay lover from Chicago).   Not only would Orlando be mortified it might get me beaten up by the locals.  Orlando was not ready or might never be ready for his family to know his orientation.   Luis told me that he has kept his sexual preference from his family.  I totally understood this so I needed to come up with a plan B.  Perhaps meeting him in Panama City where no one knows him, and also hoping homosexuality may be more generally accepted.

            Every Saturday Orlando would call me when the family was out shopping.  I told him what I was planning.  At first there was dead silence and then he said, “You want to come to my town?”   I said I would like to.  I wanted to see where he lived and where he grew up.  He was very hesitant and told me again that his family does not know about his sexual orientation.  As a matter of fact his mother was always saying why doesn’t he find a nice girl to marry?  “I miss you and miss being with you but I’m sure I’m not brave enough to tell my family.” 

            I told him I identified with his predicament and respected his feelings.  I mentioned my plan B.  He said that he was open to that idea but he would have to come up with a reason to go to Panama City for two weeks.  I told him that he need not decide right away.  Perhaps in the next couple of weeks he will have considered whether he wanted me to come there or not.  I didn’t want to pressure him it’s just that I missed him terribly.

            After that call it was a very difficult for me. I was wondering when I might see Orlando again.  Also, we still had no idea when or if he would be allowed to come to the U.S. permanently.  I was anxious to hear from Orlando about my plans.

            During all this time Luis had decided to apply of his U.S. Citizenship.  He had been pondering it since he became eligible.  I occupied my time helping him to pass the citizenship test.  I was so proud when he passed with flying colors.  I was even more proud when he was sworn in.  We celebrated with a party at our work. 

            When that next Saturday rolled around for my weekly call with Orlando, Luis came to my place so he could share his good news with his favorite cousin.  For me, there was good news as well.  Orlando wanted me to come and I would meet him in Panama City.  He had actually received a notice from the U.S. Embassy in Panama inviting him for an interview regarding his coming to America as an immigrant.  I was so excited to be able to be with him.  I immediately started making plans to meet him when he was going to be there for his interview.  I arranged for my vacation to coincide with that time, booked a hotel, and bought the airline ticket.  Luis suggested what he heard was a “gay friendly” hotel in old town area of the city.  I think he was almost as excited as I was about me seeing Orlando. 

            Almost 6 months had passed since Orlando returned to Panama.  Of course my low self-esteem crept in which had me wondering if he still had the same feelings for me.  I needed to gaze into his dark brown eyes, see that fantastic smile of his before my mind was going to rid itself of those annoying fears and self-doubts. 

            The day finally arrived.  Luis drove me to O’Hare.  As he let me off at the terminal he looked at me and said, “Give my cousin a big kiss for me.”  Too funny, I thought.  Then he leaned over and gave me a kiss on my cheek.  Luis had never kissed me before.     

            It was interesting to me that my flight to Panama City was going to take less time than Orlando’s bus trip to get there from his town.  Panama does not look very big on a map however; the bus makes multiple stops including unscheduled ones along the way.  I would be at my hotel before he would arrive later that night.   I told the hotel front desk my companion was arriving much later and to leave a room key for him to pick up.  The desk clerk mentioned the room had only one king size bed.  I told him that is what I had booked for.  He cracked a little smile and winked at me.

            Although I was tired from my trip I could not sleep.  I would stare at the door waiting for it to open.  When I did hear the click and it finally opened I jumped from my chair and ran to embrace him.  He held me for a moment and then smiled and looked at me, “My love, I need to brush my teeth and shower.”   Of course, he had a long bus ride and needed to freshen up.

            When I heard the shower come on I peeked in the bathroom to watch him.  He is so beautiful I thought as the soap and water was glistening running down his magnificent body.  He turned and caught me staring at him, “please join me my love.”   I quickly got out of my shorts and t-shirt and got in the shower with him.  We caressed each other with the soap, kissed and pressed our naked bodies against each other for a long while.  We both got quite aroused.  We dried each other off and climbed into bed. 

            We made passionate love as if it was our first time.  We filled each other more than once until we were exhausted and fell asleep in each other’s arms.  I never again felt insecure about our love. 

            The next day, Sunday, we went out to explore the city.  We walked through the old town and then went out to where you can watch the ships going through the canal.  We had slept late and got a late start exploring so, after the trip to the canal, we found a nice little café for an early dinner.  I wanted to make sure Orlando got a good night’s rest for his interview the next day at the embassy.

            His appointment was at 1 o’clock.  Breakfast came with the hotel room, and when it came time we took a taxi to the embassy.  I waited at a nearby café while he had the interview.  After about an hour and a half Orlando found me at the café.   Of course my first words were, “So, how did it go?”  He said, “I think it went well however, they left me feeling uncertain.”  They were going to send him a letter within the next couple of weeks advising the status regarding his application.  We were both hoping for an immediate answer of yes or no.  We returned to the hotel and spent the rest of the day there.

            I was holding his hand as we sat in our room.  Orlando looked at me and asked, “What if the answer is no?”  He started to cry.  I did what I could to console him.  I told him that we will apply again, as the lawyer suggested.  The lawyer said that sometimes it can take several tries before they okay an application.  They have a yearly quota of people they allow to immigrate.  It depends on your education level and job prospects.  “You are a smart man”  “You have a good education with a college degree.”  “We need to have faith and be patient.”  “I’m never going to give up because I am100% positive that we are meant to be together.”   With that he began kissing me gently, that beautiful smile return to his face.  “I love you James so very much.”

            By the end of the week we had pretty much seen all there was to see in the city.  We made love every night.  At the suggestion of front desk clerk we ended up moving to a resort at Playa Blanca along the Pacific Coast.  It was about 2 hour drive from Panama City.  It was a lovely beach but after a couple of days, a beach is a beach.   I had rented a car to go there and was keeping it for the remainder of the time until I was to leave.

            At dinner we were going to decide where to go next.  Suddenly Orlando said, “I want to introduce you to my family.”   I was stunned to say the least.  He told me that he could not go back and continue the lie any longer.  He was willing to take a chance they loved him enough to accept him for who he is, and show them the man who “had captured his heart, the person with whom he has chosen to spend his life with.”   I took a large gulp of wine and asked. “Are you absolutely positive you want to do this?”   He responded, “Absolutely.”  Wow!   This was an unexpected turn of events.  I was proud Orlando had summoned the courage to come out to his family.  I was only hoping I had the courage to stand with him when he does it. 

            It was a long drive to Orlando’s home town from Playa Blanca.  It took more than 6 hours having to drive up the coast and then across the isthmus to the Caribbean side.  Orlando was very knowledgeable about his country pointing out to me many things along the way. 

            As we got closer to his town he got quiet.  I pulled over and asked him again if he was certain he wanted to do this.  He gentle took my hand and smiled and said, “Yes I’m sure.”  Inside my head I was asking myself if I was sure.

            We drove up to a modest house in this sleepy quiet fishing town around 4 in the afternoon.  Orlando had previously told me that his father had died shortly after his twin younger brother and sister were born leaving him as the man of the house at only 15.  He had described his mother as short being just 5’ 2”.   Even with his description of her I imagined her chasing me out of town brandishing a meat cleaver.   His brother and sister were now teens. His brother was into soccer and his sister into music and dance.

             Orland got out of the car as soon as his mom appeared at the front door.  They embraced warmly. Lolita, Orlando’s mom, gestured towards the car where I was still sitting seeming to ask who I was.  Orlando waved me to come over to meet her. 

              I know very little Spanish but I ascertained that he told her my name and she grabbed my hand with that same gentleness as her son and introduced herself.  After a couple of awkward seconds Orlando started speaking in Spanish.  I could see from the glances and hand motions he was relaying about his being gay, and also about me and our relationship.  When Orlando stopped talking Lolita cast her eyes toward the ground contemplatively.  During the silence Orlando took my hand with both of his and held it close to his heart.

            After a bit Lolita raised her head. She looked back and forth several times between her son and me.  Then with the same beautiful smile that I love of Orlando’s she took me by my other hand and led me into the house.  I could sense Orlando’s relief.   He kissed my other hand several times as we were walking.

             We came into the house and sat down.  Lolita left the room for a minute.  I could smell something wonderful cooking in the kitchen.  “My mother is a wonderful cook” Orlando said.  I recalled my mom as a wonderful cook as well.   I learned from her and was not such a bad cook myself.  At least no one I have cooked for had ever complained or became ill from my cooking. 

             Lolita returned holding a packet of photos.  They were the pictures Orlando took while he was in Chicago.  She removed some that were of Orlando and me together at Willis Tower.  I turned to Orlando and said, “I think she already knew.”  Apparently she had come across them while cleaning his room one day.

             A short time later Miguel, Orlando’s younger brother came bursting into the house juggling his soccer ball.  As soon as he saw Orlando he dropped it on the floor and gave his big brother a powerful hug.  When he noticed me he had that questioning look “Who are you?”  A moment later Sophia came in singing to a tune she was playing through her headphones.  Seeing the questioning look in their eyes about me, Orlando introduced me in English.  They were learning English in school.  They very politely introduced themselves to me.  Still with questioning looks in their eyes Orlando asked them to go for a walk with him. 

            The moment they left I realized I was alone with Lolita, two people with very little understanding of each other’s language.  What to do, oh what to do?   I turned my nose upward and began sniffing the smells that were coming from the kitchen.  Glancing over towards the kitchen and then at Lolita as if to say, “Show me whatcha got cookin Mamacita.”   Lolita motioned me to follower her into the kitchen where there were several items simmering on the stove.   Lolita pointed to each item; Sancocho (chicken soup), Ropa Vieja (shredded beef stew), Tamales, and Carimanolas (fried yuca fritters).   I think I gained 5 pounds just from the smell. 

             When the three of them returned later I was at the kitchen table sampling everything Lolita was putting on my plate and enjoying a cold cerveza.  As soon as Orlando saw me he smiled and laughed out loud.  “Mama loves anyone who enjoys her cooking.”  Soon she was dishing out plates for all of us.

             Later that night as we were in Orlando’s room, he told me that he took his brother and sister out to explain who I was, our relationship, and our goals for the future.  They were sad that he was going to move away but, seemed genuinely glad that he found someone who made him happy.  His room was rather small and his bed was a tight fit however, we refrained from any amorous activity out of respect for his mother’s house.  We were always content with just holding one another while sleeping.

            A few days later it was time for me to head back to Panama City to catch my flight back to Chicago.  Not before I had the chance to teach Lolita how to bake Short Bread Cookies (Grandma’s recipe).   Orlando insisted on traveling with me to Panama City.  He was afraid I would get lost.  Besides, he wanted to spend every possible moment with me that he could, especially since we were not sure when we might see each other again.   Lolita packed enough food for our trip as if we were going on a safari.  The whole family embraced me before we got in the car.  Sophia and Miguel both gave me a kiss to give to their cousin Luis. 

             We spent the last night in the same hotel as before.   Even though we were tired from our car trip, we still made love for a long while that night.  There was hugging and tears at the airport.  I actually managed to sleep some on the plane ride.  I told Orlando to call me when he got home to let me know that he was safe.

             Luis met me at curbside at O’Hare.  I tossed my bag in the back of the car and climbed in.   I looked at Luis and said, “I have something for you.”   I then leaned over and kissed him on each cheek.  “One from Sophia and one from Miguel” then I gave him two hard kisses on the lips; “One from Orlando, and one from me.”  He actually blushed a bit, and then we drove off.

             I relayed to him everything that happened.  He was so proud of Orlando coming out to his family and so happy by their acceptance of it, and of me.  “Perhaps someday I will show the same bravery with my family” he said.   I told him about Orlando’s interview and that now it was all a waiting game.  Luis held my hand gently most of the way as if to say ‘I’m here for you my friend’.

             I was glad to be home from such a long and eventful trip.  I have lived alone most of my adult life but I had never ever felt alone before, until now. 

 

Just Two People

            About three weeks after my return from Panama I got a phone call from Orlando.  I could tell he had been crying.  He obviously had some bad news.  He did not get accepted by the government to immigrate to the U.S.   I was devastated at hearing this.  Preemptively though I had already contacted the immigration attorney to get the information for what would be our next steps should this occur.   Orlando will have to wait a certain amount of time before he could re-apply.  I copied down what the letter Orlando received said that pertained to their reason(s) for denying his application. The next day I contacted the lawyer and relayed the information to him. 

            The lawyer suggested that we need to “beef up Orlando’s resume,” as he put it.  We would need to emphasize Orlando’s education, degree, and the fact he was employed as a teacher at the high school there in Panama.   He was teaching English and coaching the boy’s and girl’s baseball and soccer teams. 

            I also, obtained information on places Orlando could apply to in the U.S. for a teaching position.  Perhaps there was a school, either public or private, that was looking for a person with his background and credentials.  I even sent a letter of recommendation to Orlando that he could make copies of to include in any applications he made for a job.  I admit that I embellished a little by stating I had known him for several years.  It wasn’t a total lie.  I had been dreaming of a man such as him for a many years.  The agony with all of this was going to be the waiting. 

            Luis, being his cousin, wrote a letter that he would financially help support him until he could attain his own financial stability here.   It was a lot of work however, the idea of a long distance relationship was heart wrenching to me.  I even thought that perhaps I should move to Panama.

            Orlando and I talked every week.  Just hearing each other’s voice was a blessing.  One time Orlando told me that his mother would go to church twice a week to light a candle for us.  What a sweet woman.  We both kept busy with our working. 

            Orlando eventually received another interview appointment at the embassy.  I had a couple more days of comp time coming so I made plans to go there to be by his side.  I missed him tremendously and I planned, except for when he had his appointment, to spend our short time together just holding him in my arms.

            Orlando took a very early bus so he could arrive a couple hours after noon instead of in the middle of the night.  As soon as we were both in the hotel room we striped and got into the shower.  He felt so good to hold and to kiss.

            The next day was Sunday. Orlando’s interview was on Tuesday this time. We decided to just stay in our room together only going out to eat.  We talked, cuddled and made love.  Every time with him seemed better than the previous time. 

            On Tuesday we went to the embassy.  It was an early appointment this time. Orlando needed to take the bus back home the next day.  I also was leaving on Wednesday to head back to Chicago.  Like I said, except for his appointment, I wanted to spend every possible moment with him. 

            He felt better about this interview than the previous time.  He told me they asked him a lot more questions.  He was even able to show them a letter he received from a school that was interested in hiring him should he be able to immigrate to the U.S.   His interview lasted over two hours this time.

            The next day we did all our tears and hugging in the hotel room.  Orlando had to go straight away to the bus terminal and I to the airport.  It was a long melancholy flight home.  But this time I felt a spark of hope. 

            Luis picked me up at the airport as before.  I shared everything that took place during the trip.  Now was the long wait again.  It’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  That doesn’t say though that the heart doesn’t still ache while it is waiting.   

            Two, three, four weeks went by and still no news.  Luis did all he could to keep me from thinking about it.  We even went to a hockey game one night.  Luis had never been to one before.  Of course I had to explain to him what was going on most of the game.  He got so excited when the first goal was scored; unfortunately he did not realize that it was the other team’s goal and not the Blackhawk’s.   The Blackhawks ended up winning the game, and we had great fun.  It was good to let off some steam.  The best part was when we were leaving the game Luis said to me with a smile, “We have to bring Orlando to a hockey game after he moves here.”  Such a good friend Luis is.  He always seems to know the right thing to say. 

            Weeks had gone by and still no word from the embassy.  We were thinking we need to get ready to do it all again.  Finally one day I got a call from Orlando.  He was crying and I thought, ‘Oh no, bad news.’   When he finally managed to compose himself he got the words out, “James my love, I’ve been accepted!”   He received a letter telling him to come to the embassy to pick up his immigration documents in person the next week.  My heart was so full of joy that there are no words to describe how I felt in that moment.  I too began to cry.

            I told Orlando that I would arrange a hotel for him in Panama City for a couple nights so he could freshen up before going to the embassy to obtain whatever documents he was going to need.   I asked him when he expected to fly to Chicago.  Orlando told me that they informed him he could go as soon as he had his documents.  “My love, I cannot wait any longer.”  “I plan to pack everything I want to take with me when I go to Panama City and get the first possible flight to be with you, forever.”   He would arrange latter to ship anything he could not bring on the airplane. 

            He had not yet told his family about the letter because as soon as he opened it his first thought was to call and tell me.  He is certain that they will want to throw him a big going away party.  Sure they will be happy for him however, he knew Lolita will be sad to see him go so far away, as will Miguel and Sophia. 

            After we hung up the phone I realized Orlando will be here just before Christmas.  I need to go out and buy him a winter coat and some boots.  Good thing we wear the same size shoes.   I called Luis to tell him the good news.  He said we need to throw him a welcome to America party.  I asked Luis could he please wait for a couple days after his arrival.  I needed to have him alone to myself first.  I told him though to come with me to the airport to pick him up when he arrives.  “Of course" Luis replied.  He was extremely excited for me and Orlando.

            I could not help myself; I called Orlando daily until he left on the bus to Panama City.  I was like a little kid in school watching the clock for the bell to ring on the last day before summer vacation.  I called him at the hotel at the time I figured he would have returned from his appointment at the embassy.  I had to ease my mind there had been no bureaucratic hiccups.  He had everything he needed including a set of instructions of what he had to do when he arrived at Immigrations in O’Hare Airport.  We only had to wait one more day. 

            Naturally I barely slept that night.  When I picked up Luis he told me he hardly slept as well.  We got to the airport, parked and went in to wait outside of the International Arrivals area. 

            All of the weeks and months of waiting and hoping all came down to these last moments watching for my man, my love, my life-partner to walk through those doors.  Luis seeing my tension took hold of my hand gently; “It is going to be a beautiful life for you my new cousin-in-law.”   I almost burst into tears.   He kept my hand in his until, there he was!   As soon as our eyes met Orlando rushed into my arms.  We embraced with tears.  We could care less what others around might be thinking.  We kissed each other several times.  Finally Luis piped in, “Hey, can I hug my cousin?”   I released Orlando to hug Luis.  He repeatedly thanked Luis for all he had done to make this moment possible, and for being a support for me. 

            Before we stepped outside into the cold I presented Orlando with his gift of the winter coat I had bought for him.  “What’s this for?”  I told him to put it on before you go through those doors.  It was early December and we had already experienced some snow. When he got to the car Luis said, “I better drive.”   Orlando and I climbed into the back seat for the ride.  Luis quipped, “You better keep your cloths on until you get home.”  (He he)

            After we lugged Orlando’s “substantial sized” suitcases up into my place, Luis hugged and kissed us both, and left us alone.  “I love you both so much” he said.   So much emotion had built up for such a long time, we simply sat down holding one another and feeling blessed that our dream had truly become a reality.   A couple days later Luis threw one hell of a party. 

            Oh, I failed to mention; most of our co-workers had been noticing Luis and I spending a LOT of time together.  We decided to come out at work.  Our news was greeted with a mix of responses.  A few people said they thought that we were gay.  Some of those people suspected Luis and I were actually a couple.  Two of our co-workers came out to us afterwards (not to the rest of the people in the office though.  Everyone chooses their own time for that.).   Some of the people were not very accepting.  Others thought it was no big deal.

            That being said Luis invited our co-workers to the party.  He kind of made it a combination coming out, welcome to America Orlando, and Christmas party.  I introduced Orlando as not only Luis’ cousin from Panama but also as my life partner. 

            That Christmas was the best one I ever had.  Since no training was done at work during the Holidays, I was able to take 4 weeks off from work.  Orlando was trying to acclimate to the weather.  Luis and I took Orlando to his first hockey game.  He thought it was a crazy game. Later he ended up going to the library to find books to explain the rules of the game.  Orlando is like that, always learning as much as he could about things that were foreign or new to him.  

            We would go to clubs on occasion, but only when Luis invited us, introducing us to his latest boyfriend.   Orlando joined a gay oriented gym to keep in shape, and he encouraged me to go with him so I would be healthier.  Mostly we liked, loved being together making up for the lost time.  

            After the first of the year Orlando got a job at a private school teaching Spanish.  Eventually he became the baseball coach in the spring and also teaching health and physical education.   He felt better about himself that he could contribute to household expenses, even though I never asked him to. 

            As soon as he was eligible, Orlando applied to become an American citizen.  He passed his exam and was sworn-in with a large group of fellow immigrants.  Both Luis and I were there, of course.  We were like a couple of proud parents at our son’s graduation.

            Who we are:  Orlando and I are not in your face, rainbow flag waving, prancing around at Pride event types.  We did go to one Pride parade and once was enough.  The only go-go man I ever want to see is my man in his speedo dancing for me.  We are by no means gay activists.  We are not afraid though to tell people who we are or what our orientation or lifestyle choice is.  However, that is not the only thing that defines us neither as a couple nor as individuals.

            We volunteer occasionally for fund raising events that are not necessarily gay orientated.  I ride in bike rides to raise money for different charities.  Orlando runs in 10ks usually raising money for scholarships for kids to attend schools or for kids with special needs.  He has a loving heart for children and their wellbeing. 

            We are very content with our life together.  We are very comfortable in our relationship.  We don’t require some legal document that says we are married.   However, should society someday decide it is okay for same-sex couples to marry; most likely we will get married.  We know we are joined together in a love that is stronger than any vows recited at an official ceremony.  I would sacrifice my life for Orlando if it was required of me, and I know he would do the same for me.

            We have our squabbles form time to time.  What couple doesn’t?   We never go to bed angry.  We always talk through our problems even if it takes all night.  We never disrespect one another’s feelings.  We never turn our backs to each other.  We accept and respect each other for who we are as individuals and as a couple.  If we don’t respect each other, I’m certain our relationship would fail.  We will do whatever it takes to stay together.

            Orlando is everything to me, now and forever.  We are not defined by some cliché nor do we need to be labeled or put in a category. 

            Who are we?  We are just two people, Orlando and James.