All Things Happen For A Reason.

Hello everyone. Long time no talk. It has been a supremely long time since the last time I have posted and I do apologize for that. Frankly, I have been pretty scared to write. I have been feeling like I can't get my ideas out and when I can, my writing style just isn't what it used to be. It scared me to think that my writing had taken a turn for the worst, but then I came to this realization: this started as something for me.

This blog was created to help me get my ideas out. To allow me to look back and see how far I have come. In addition to that purpose, I have the ability to help others through shared ideas and sharing stories, but the main idea was for me to be able to see my problems and life laid out. I figured getting all my thoughts down in one concrete place allowed me to see it for what it truly was and evaluate it. And now, I get to look back on it.

It has been an amazing journey to look back on. In my time, I did a lot of complaining, crying, and ranting. I think back to when I started this blog as a 15 (turning 16) year old who was petrified of coming out to his parents, but was completely comfortable with himself. Maybe completely is a little advanced, but I think I was a bit ahead of the game for my age. I was out in high school, all my coworkers new, and frankly so did a couple of customers. I was thinking about moving away and being completely out and not in fear. Not worrying about anything getting back to my parents, etc. Just wishing for love to come my way.

Now, I'm 20, turning 21 in a couple of months. I live alone (more or less), am completely out of the closet, have had two relationships, about to get my bachelor's degree, and head off to grad school. Lately, this has all been incredibly surreal. To be this accomplished and this far ahead at my age! To know next year I will be moving into a bigger city, like I had wished for ages, to finish up my college career and start my big boy life. It makes looking back at my old self and old posts seem that much more significant to me.

Earlier today, this guy (my age) was messaging me on scruff. Being that he had no face in his profile, I assumed that he was not out if the closet. Most people don't respond to faceless profiles, but there is something about them that makes me want to. I guess it is the fact that I know that it means that they are not out of the closet and they might just be looking for someone go relate to them. Or just someone to talk or hang with. 7 times out ten they are just looking to hook up, but I always keep my eye open for that 30%. This guy happened to be part of that 30%.

As we were talking I he confirmed my suspicions that he had not been out of the closet and if he goes go East Stroudsburg University,  etc. In the midst of our conversation, we were talking about why he had not come out of the closet, yet. This young Hispanic man had the similar fears as I and many other gay people out there scared of coming out. My parents are religious. My parents will kick me out. My family will disown me. My friends won't like me anymore. Etc. Of course I talked him down, but this really hit home to me in this moment. It had really made me think. . .

I was explaining to him my coming out. Both of them. To my friends and to my family. Friends supported me and parents put me through hell. Forced me into moving out. Made me into the man I am today. The thing that really struck me was when I told him I had been outed. My aunt outed me while I was on the other side of the island. From there, my mother forced me to tell my dad. I told him, if I had it my own way, I would not have come out to them that soon. If my aunt had not have outed me, where would I be?

As furious as I was with my aunt, I guess I had never really thought about it that way. In some regard, she did me a favor. She ripped off the bandaid for me. I had went through about 5 months of hell on a day to day basis, but the scariest part was over. I knew what my parents were going to do and how they felt. There was no more ambiguity. No fear of the unknown. The most my parents could do was stop me from going out and lecture me all of the time. I feared my dad would kill me. Literally kill me. At that point, that fear was gone. It didn't make my life that much easier, but I knew what to expect! I began to mentally adapt myself for each lecture, but that was the most they were going to do.

If my aunt had not outed me, I couldn't say that I would have had the same amount of fun or have been as successful. I had a plan that I would not come out to them until I was done with school. Therefore, I wouldn't have any living expenses and I could just save all of my money. I would have never moved out, I probably would have been pledged a fraternity, I would probably have bought a brand new car like my brothers, I would not have lasted as long as I did with my ex, and I would have never dated my second ex. Without that experience, I would have never developed my interest in HIV. I may not have picked clinical psychology as my path for the future. I definitely would not be working at Rainbow Mountain, I would have stayed at Giant. I never would have met all if the people I have up to this point. I would have never met this guy that means the world to me right now. I wouldn't be as close to my friends. I wouldn't know how to cook as much. Or budget. I would not have my place.

I would probably still be that lonely kid who watched bear movies and gay storylines on YouTube. I would most likely be that guy attached to his Instagram, following all of the other gay guys and living vicariously through them. I would still be alone. I would still feel alone. I would still want to leave home. I would still live every day of my life in fear of the unknown. I would still live my life getting aggravated because I just want to be me, but I'm scared that my parents wouldn't like me anymore. I am so thankful that that is not the case.

Coming out is something that is unique to each person. There is no rush to it. It is not a race. A person should come out when it is most convenient to them and when they aren't in any danger. And when they do, no matter how it happens, I promise the weight that is lofted off of your shoulders is astronomical. Sometimes I still can't believe it. I never would have imagined that my life would be like this. I never worked at a gay resort. Shit, I had never even been to one! Not to mention a gay, nudist campground!

In closing, everything happens for a reason. It may not work out the way we had hoped it would from the start, but I promise you it will all work out. Just live your life in a "good vibes only" manner and I promise you the good times will follow right after.

~Be Breezy!~

All Things Happen For A Reason.

Hello everyone. Long time no talk. It has been a supremely long time since the last time I have posted and I do apologize for that. Frankly, I have been pretty scared to write. I have been feeling like I can't get my ideas out and when I can, my writing style just isn't what it used to be. It scared me to think that my writing had taken a turn for the worst, but then I came to this realization: this started as something for me.

This blog was created to help me get my ideas out. To allow me to look back and see how far I have come. In addition to that purpose, I have the ability to help others through shared ideas and sharing stories, but the main idea was for me to be able to see my problems and life laid out. I figured getting all my thoughts down in one concrete place allowed me to see it for what it truly was and evaluate it. And now, I get to look back on it.

It has been an amazing journey to look back on. In my time, I did a lot of complaining, crying, and ranting. I think back to when I started this blog as a 15 (turning 16) year old who was petrified of coming out to his parents, but was completely comfortable with himself. Maybe completely is a little advanced, but I think I was a bit ahead of the game for my age. I was out in high school, all my coworkers new, and frankly so did a couple of customers. I was thinking about moving away and being completely out and not in fear. Not worrying about anything getting back to my parents, etc. Just wishing for love to come my way.

Now, I'm 20, turning 21 in a couple of months. I live alone (more or less), am completely out of the closet, have had two relationships, about to get my bachelor's degree, and head off to grad school. Lately, this has all been incredibly surreal. To be this accomplished and this far ahead at my age! To know next year I will be moving into a bigger city, like I had wished for ages, to finish up my college career and start my big boy life. It makes looking back at my old self and old posts seem that much more significant to me.

Earlier today, this guy (my age) was messaging me on scruff. Being that he had no face in his profile, I assumed that he was not out if the closet. Most people don't respond to faceless profiles, but there is something about them that makes me want to. I guess it is the fact that I know that it means that they are not out of the closet and they might just be looking for someone go relate to them. Or just someone to talk or hang with. 7 times out ten they are just looking to hook up, but I always keep my eye open for that 30%. This guy happened to be part of that 30%.

As we were talking I he confirmed my suspicions that he had not been out of the closet and if he goes go East Stroudsburg University,  etc. In the midst of our conversation, we were talking about why he had not come out of the closet, yet. This young Hispanic man had the similar fears as I and many other gay people out there scared of coming out. My parents are religious. My parents will kick me out. My family will disown me. My friends won't like me anymore. Etc. Of course I talked him down, but this really hit home to me in this moment. It had really made me think. . .

I was explaining to him my coming out. Both of them. To my friends and to my family. Friends supported me and parents put me through hell. Forced me into moving out. Made me into the man I am today. The thing that really struck me was when I told him I had been outed. My aunt outed me while I was on the other side of the island. From there, my mother forced me to tell my dad. I told him, if I had it my own way, I would not have come out to them that soon. If my aunt had not have outed me, where would I be?

As furious as I was with my aunt, I guess I had never really thought about it that way. In some regard, she did me a favor. She ripped off the bandaid for me. I had went through about 5 months of hell on a day to day basis, but the scariest part was over. I knew what my parents were going to do and how they felt. There was no more ambiguity. No fear of the unknown. The most my parents could do was stop me from going out and lecture me all of the time. I feared my dad would kill me. Literally kill me. At that point, that fear was gone. It didn't make my life that much easier, but I knew what to expect! I began to mentally adapt myself for each lecture, but that was the most they were going to do.

If my aunt had not outed me, I couldn't say that I would have had the same amount of fun or have been as successful. I had a plan that I would not come out to them until I was done with school. Therefore, I wouldn't have any living expenses and I could just save all of my money. I would have never moved out, I probably would have been pledged a fraternity, I would probably have bought a brand new car like my brothers, I would not have lasted as long as I did with my ex, and I would have never dated my second ex. Without that experience, I would have never developed my interest in HIV. I may not have picked clinical psychology as my path for the future. I definitely would not be working at Rainbow Mountain, I would have stayed at Giant. I never would have met all if the people I have up to this point. I would have never met this guy that means the world to me right now. I wouldn't be as close to my friends. I wouldn't know how to cook as much. Or budget. I would not have my place.

I would probably still be that lonely kid who watched bear movies and gay storylines on YouTube. I would most likely be that guy attached to his Instagram, following all of the other gay guys and living vicariously through them. I would still be alone. I would still feel alone. I would still want to leave home. I would still live every day of my life in fear of the unknown. I would still live my life getting aggravated because I just want to be me, but I'm scared that my parents wouldn't like me anymore. I am so thankful that that is not the case.

Coming out is something that is unique to each person. There is no rush to it. It is not a race. A person should come out when it is most convenient to them and when they aren't in any danger. And when they do, no matter how it happens, I promise the weight that is lofted off of your shoulders is astronomical. Sometimes I still can't believe it. I never would have imagined that my life would be like this. I never worked at a gay resort. Shit, I had never even been to one! Not to mention a gay, nudist campground!

In closing, everything happens for a reason. It may not work out the way we had hoped it would from the start, but I promise you it will all work out. Just live your life in a "good vibes only" manner and I promise you the good times will follow right after.

~Be Breezy!~

Starting Over as Friends.

This post is in addition to the one I posted last night. I did a quick recap of where I left off in life, and where I am. In this post, I hope to further explain where I am in life, and hopefully clear some thoughts up in my own mind. Let's start from the break up.

Me and my ex broke up about two weeks into December. It had killed me to do it, but I had to end it. It sucked even more to ruin the holidays for the both of us, but I couldn't go into a new apartment with the feelings I had. I had held it in as long as I could, but I had to set myself free. Not only me, but him, too. Staying in that relationship would have meant deceiving him. It would have meant keeping him from finding who he was supposed to be with. It was keeping him in something that was going no where fast.

Like I said, it killed me to have to do it. I had to take a lot into account. I had to think about how it would make me feel, make him feel, the apartment, our Christmas presents, our families, our relationship as a whole, etc. I think at first, what hurt most was that I couldn't explain how I felt to him and he had to go off of whatever I could say in the moment. I hated to think that he thought I was just being selfish and did this all for myself. I actually even wrote a letter beforehand. It was a peculiar writing. It was addressed to both him and myself at the same time. In it, I explained how I was feeling, and what I might want to say to him. The letter hit all of the points I ever wanted it to. All the way to the nitty gritty parts. It allowed me to explain to him as best I could in that moment, however, it was far from done.

The whole night, we spent crying and fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day rolled around and I got up early, still in disbelief of what I had just done and of my new reality. I managed to keep myself together when I got to my parents house and explained to them what happened. Thankfully, my parents have come a long way. I remember just blurt in it out to my mom because I knew if I didn't say it as soon as I saw her, I wasn't going to be able to do it. She and I sat down for a while and I explained everything to her and what I was going to do next. She totally understood and was even proud of me for making the decision that I had made. Most people don't have the courage or maturity to do what I did and therefore end up in terrible falling outs. Thankfully, I ended things before they had gotten that far.

I was petrified to tell my father. We hadn't talked much about being gay after I had moved out. He had been around my ex, but it was never spoken about. I kind of preferred it that way; if it wasn't brought up, there was no potential for dirty looks or snide comments. However, this was different. We had a very grown up man to man talk. Kind of like the father son talk I always imagined having. We talked and I explained to him what happened and he, too, was proud of me.

After the visit to the parental units, I went to go see my brother, and best friend, Brian. He had been aware that this night was coming, so it came as no shock to him. I explained what happened and I remained calm for the most part. He had actually told me I had been handling it very well. I think that was the breaking point for me. I couldn't believe how I might have seemed. How could I be okay after what I had just done? How could I even muster a smile when my ex was probably at home crying his eyes out. I think I tried to explain what happened once I read the letter and I lost it.

For a while, me and my ex still lived together. Probably about two and a half weeks. Those had to be two of the worst weeks I had experienced since coming out to my parents. Everytime I had tried to talk to my ex, all I got was attitude and one word answers. I was constantly trying to make sure that he was okay and see what he was thinking. I knew what he was thinking. He was hurt. He was angry. He was confused. One day he thought we were fine. The next, I wanted to break up with him.

I knew I had to give him space, so I tried to keep myself busy and out of the apartment so he had time to think and such. I still had trouble letting go of passed habits and it caused a lot of anamosity out of him. I continued to use nicknames and wanted to text him, but he made it very clear to me that those actions were not allowed. Therefore, I decided I just had to suck it up.

I thought I had to endure the pain he inflicted on me. I thought I deserved it. Someone who did what I did didn't deserve to be happy or even deserve his forgiveness and friendship. For a while I let him walk over me and let those thoughts linger in my head, but soon enough, I learned better. I knew that I did nothing wrong. I was a good person. I did what I did out of love and to let love continue somewhere else. I didn't deserve the way he was treating me, and now I was standing up against that.

I think the last straw was when he wanted to split up the possessions. I had been trying to have any kind of conversation with him for days, but he would ignore me and shut me out all the time. I think I was already a wee bit peeved with him for some reason, but I left to go get a haircut, to then have him call me back to split the stuff up. At this point, I was livid. I remember storming back to the apartment furious and he just looked so smug. It looked as if he knew I was infuriated, and this was his way of getting under my skin. I'm sure that wasn't his intention, but in that moment, he could have fooled me.

He was going down this list that he had put together and he was just going down as if he couldn't wait to have this over with and leave. I was so infutiated, it didn't matter to me what he had took. He could have taken everything in the place, and I wouldn't have stopped him because I believed I deserved it and that this was the end of it between us. From that moment on, I wasn't taking anymore of his shit.

Probably a week after that, he and our previous neighbor decided they were ready to move him in. I was at work and did not know this conversation had happened. As far as I knew, he wasn't moving I to the other apartment until the beginning of the year. While I was at work, he decided he would move his stuff out, assuming that he had hoped to be done before I got here. I came home to him, his sister, and her friends helping him move and my possessions all over the place.

At this point, infuriated was an understatement. I was hurt. Truly hurt. I felt betrayed, and I felt insulted. I couldn't believe someone whom I had spent the passed year and a half and giving him all the love I could, could do this to me. Everything up to this point. The worst part was I knew that he was capable of it. All of what previous people said about him were true. I knew it. I always did. I just figured he'd never be that way to me. But I was wrong, and now I've learned my lesson.

I probably stayed there for a good twenty minutes trying to seem calm and as if nothing was bothering me. His sister sought a moment to try to even console me. I even offered to help. After that twenty-first minute, I had to leave. I couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn't stand him any longer. I went to my parents house without telling anyone. Only my brother was there and I told him what happened. I was done.

Later that evening, my ex finally texted me to see if I was okay. Of course I lied and said, "I'm fine, not that you care." Long story short, I basically told him that I didn't deserve the way he was treating me and how much it hurt me. My ending point, "It never really matters what you think you did. Just what the other person feels like you did."

When I got home, he was in tears. I was sitting on the floor, folding the clothes that were everywhere, and basking in what was left in the apartment to be mine. What was left? Two couches (which one served as my bed), the TV stand/space heater, the kitchen utensils, and a picture of us in the bedroom that had Mr. and Mr. above it. I had literally let him take everything. It didn't matter to me. all I wanted was for him to like me. For him not to hate me. For us to be able to move passed this point.

He apologized for everything that he had done in the passed few weeks. He had treated me like the enemy and like someone who cheated on him and threw him out on the street. He treated me as if I had done something morally wrong to him. What I did was put him first. What I did, was make a mature decision that would result in the best for us. But he didn't see that. At this point, he did. And all he could do was look at me sit on the floor and imagine how I must have felt. All he could do from that point on was remember the monster that had did that to the person he once called his true love.

Weeks had passed by of us just trying to behold each other's company. I tried to make him breakfast, and that was awkward. Everything we did was awkward, even the sex. Yeah, we did that. I'm not proud of it, but I did.

It lasted for probably all of two weeks and then I decided I did not want to continue with that arrangement. I felt dirty. I didn't feel right as a person. I felt like some hookup that was just toyed with and then tossed away. I didn't feel like someone who he had loved. I felt like another quick fuck. So I ended it.

Weeks and a couple of big boy conversations later, I had decided that I needed space. I had made it very clear that I did not any sort of sexual relationship with him, but the advances persisted, so I told him to leave me alone for a while. And in that time, I don't know that I have been the best person around towards him, but I have been who I am. For a while, I did feel like I was being a dick, but now I think I was just being honest in who I am. I am a dick. Everyone knows it. Shit, I take pride in it! I don't take it too far, but just far enough to be funny. I guess he didn't find it funny.

I don't know where to be with him right now. He wants to have a relationship with me. Just as friends, but I don't know if he can handle that. I don't know if I can handle that. We can't even get over having a guy over! I think I'm at the point where I don't care, but he is not. He still can't even stop sexually advancing on me! That's not the kind of "friend" I want. Well, maybe it is, but not out of him.

He's been sending me handwritten letters lately. Letters that explain where he's at in life and where he wants to be. I've only gotten two so far. I'm proud of him. I truly am, however, that doesn't mean that we're  ready to be friends. I'm still not in the right mindset. I'm still pretty angry. I know I shouldn't be and that I shouldn't hold grudges, but I can't help it. I can't help think that he needs to quit telling me that I'm being rude and being a jerk because that's not what he was thinking when he was being that way to me. He didn't bat an eye when he was that viscous. I know it only makes me stoop down to his level, but in my eyes, I'm not. I'm being me. . . And I'm enjoying it.

I don't know where life will take us. At this point in my life, I'm only focused on having fun and being me. I've taken great pride in this whole Good Vibes thing. Good vibes equal good times. Thick guys and good vibes are the only things allowed in my life right about now. I don't think I want to stress anything else. Who knows. Only time can tell. But I can always continue to say. . .

After All This Time? Always. 💕

~Be Breezy~

Sex baby, Let's talk about You and Me

*In song* Sex baby! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about all the good things, and the bad things, that may be! Let's talk about sex! *end song*

Right now, I want to talk about something for mature audiences only! Sex. Viewer discretion is advised. Ah sex, the most exciting, dangerous, sensational, risky, and life changing part of life. Sex is something that can only be handled by those who are old enough to understand what is wrong and right, and the effects of it. I would say that age is right around 14 or 15. So just around the age everyone is starting high school. Why do I say that? Because of the risks and dangers of sex. In this post, I'm not going to only be talking about the fun parts of sex; I will be addressing the bad parts as well.

What are some of the risks of having sex? Well, depending on the people engaging in the act, the dangers vary. Some of the risks are the same for heterosexual and homosexual people, but there are some that can be very different.For right now, let's say the engaging parties are heterosexual. Ergo, a boy and a girl. Aside from catching an STI or HIV, you can get pregnant. Now getting pregnant at a young age does not mean you are going to be on teen mom. It also does not mean your life is over. What it means is that your life has changed, and you are no longer living your life for just you, your living a life for two. And whatever risks came with that sexual encounter, you may have passed on whatever disease you caught to a new born person who had nothing to do with anything.

If the engaging parties are homosexual, things are a little different. We are not more likely to catch HIV or an STI, but we also don't have to worry about getting pregnant, cause let's face it, it just doesn't work that way. Even though the life changing result of a baby is not a risk for us, we still must be aware of catching diseases and being brought into other dangers.

No matter what kind of sex and who you engage in sex with, you should be old enough to deal with the repercussions. That's exactly why we shield this kind of excitement from kids as long as we can because it sometimes brings more than just pleaseure, it brings responsibility. Responsibility that a person under 15 just can't handle. I am not saying anyone who has sex under the age of 16 is doomed to a life of responsibility from there on. I'm not saying It's necessarily a bad thing to have had sex before the age of 15. What I'm saying is, of you are going to make the grown up decision to have sexual intercourse, be mature enough to take on the responsibility and repercussions that follow.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I can take on the exciting parts about sex! The passion, the romantics, the logistics, the kinks, and the don'ts! All of which depict on the person. I'm mainly going to be speaking from my point of view and from what my friends tell me, but no one can tell you what you like. Everyone has different tastes and turn ons. It is just up to them to find them.

That's what I like about sex. It helps you to find out a lot about yourself. A lot of people find that sex is very taboo and you should never talk about it. Some people are even ashamed! Which I just don't understand anymore.

When I was younger, and was just really starting to have sex, I would never like to talk about it. I liked it for the most part, despite how bad it was, but I was ashamed of what I did as a gay man versus what I would've done if I was straight. And as time went on, I learned I didn't have to tell anyone what I did behind closed doors. It was my business! But then I saw a movie called Weekend, which was a movie made in the UK about these two guys who meet up at a club and start dating, kind of. One of the main characters is making a movie about gay sex and he explains to the other character why gay people should share their sex stories. We are always being stereotyped and the straight people think they know us, but unless we start speaking out about ourselves, they will continue with their ignorance.

And he wasn't wrong. I too was ignorant. I thought all gay men enjoyed oral and anal sex, which just isn't the case. Some guys just don't like giving oral, or receiving. Some guys don't like anal because it hurts or they are disgusted by it, which is fine, that's their opinion. But I would not have known that if it weren't for the people who spoke up against our ignorances and told us that. From that point on, I realized that it wasn't bad to talk about se, and I shouldn't be ashamed of what I was doing. If I liked sucking cock, fine! If I liked rimming a nice clean hole, so be it! And if sometimes I wanted to get pinned down and fucked from behind, then by all means, I'll let ya know!

In sex I learned a lot about myself. I learned about passion and kinks. I learned that I am can be a very passionate lover, but also very aggressive. Let's tackle passion first.

I am a person who loves to kiss. I love to make out first and get into some hair stroking and then rubbing my guy all over. I love being rubbed down and making out and the work our way slowly. I never liked jumping right into fucking. I appreciated the pleasure and the foreplay that went into sex. I always enjoyed making my partner feel good. After all, if he wasn't having fun, I wasn't! I pretty much hate doggy-style just because I don't get to see my lover's face. I love getting to lean over and kiss while getting fucked or doing the fucking. And then to end, I love that last finishing moment of holding on tightly and kissing.

The aggressive part is just very sexy! Again, I love taking my time. Playing with his hair and then kissing and licking his neck! I am known for leaving guys with hickeys. I love licking him all the way down to his nipples and hearing him moan and groan as I lick my way down to you know where! Slowly pleasuring him, teasing him into ecstasy. Licking and fingering his hole to really get him rowled up and sucking his cock at the same time always gets them going! And then I like pinning their legs back and slowly getting inside and taking my time while I fuck him. Pinning his hands above his head while I pound his ass and keeping him from jerking off. Then as I'm ready to cum, I pull out and then I shoot all over him. Then, It's my turn!

Because I can cum twice, it allows me to get fucked, and do some fucking! I love it when guys pull my hair and lightly play wig my nipples. Groping at me every step of the way. Me and my friend joked about how we have long hair. I have always had short hair when I was young, and now that I have long hair, I want you sexy mother fuckers to pull it! I love it when a guy is very rough and aggressive with my neck! Giving me hickey after hickey and pinning me down while he does so. Then licks his way down and delicately licked the tip of my nipples and works his way down. Slowly sucking my cock and playing with my nipples at the same time, dirty talking to me the entire way through. I love it when a guy dirty talk while he rims and fucks me. He rims my hole until is is nice and lubricated and fingers me while he sucks me. The he 69's me and fingers me until he's ready to plow this bear cub's ass! He slowly gets inside me and he plows away, dirty talking me the entire way. Leaning over and kissing me and pinning my hands down so I can't jerk off. Finally, when it is time to cum, he pulls out and cums all over my torso and jerks me off himself.

Sex is a wonderful thing, but like I said, is only for people who can handle it. It is very invasive, but also can be very rewarding. I have learned a lot about myself and have gained tons of confidence from it. I give it to those people who wait til marriage, I would NEVER be able to wait that long. Plus, I wouldn't know what I know now about myself, which I would never give up.

Thanks for reading everyone, hope everyone enjoyed the post and took something from it. I hope it won't be too long until the next post. I leave you with many sexual thoughts and wish you many adventures that will lead you tk finding who you really are! You dirty boys you!

~Be Breezy!~

The Girlfriend Talk

Ok, so let's set up the scene. Right now I am a 16 year old closeted teenager living in the house of two old-fashioned African American parents that were born in the 60's. My parents aren't too religious, but they aren't too accepting of the "gay lifestyle". My dad has made it clear to me and my brother since day one that being gay is unacceptable and is ungodly, and if we think we're grown enough to make that "decision", then we were old enough to live on our own. He has yet to say one nice thing about gay people in my sixteen years of life, so you can imagine my fear in telling him.

My mother... Is no different. She was born in the South, which everyone knows is one of the MOST close minded area. With that, she has her faith in god and reads her bible and has it set that gay is ungodly and unacceptable... Do you see why my parents are such a match made in heaven? In all the times being gay or homosexuals have come into conversation, she has usually referred to them as fags. I remember telling her that times have changed and people are more accepting nowadays and her response was, "gays will never be accepted!".

Now I don't want to create this whole bad energy around my parents because they are not awful people; ignorant and arrogant, yes, but not awful. My mom associates with the gay people in my family, but my dad will hardly give them a second look. My dad was tempted to tell his nephew to stay away from me and my brother so he wouldn't try to "influence our thought" or "enforce the gay upon us". So again, you can assume why I stay closeted at home.

But this is different at school. I know my school and peers to be very accepting of gay people. My school has done tons of anti-bullying assemblies and activities and we are all sick of it because we are very well off already. Now just because I say that doesn't mean I know there isn't any, because there is. But I didn't come out in school until last year, the second semester of my sophmore year. By that time, I already was friends with almost the whole student body and everyone had already had their opinions of me, and I knew it wouldn't change. I knew I was the same person regardless and my peers noticed that too when I came out. It gave them a chance to get to know me more and for me to allow them entry into my life.

The problem derrives from the split lives that I live. Kind of like that girl that you see on tv whom's parents are very religious and don't like her wearing certain things, so she keeps extra clothes in her locker or at a friend's house so she can change and lead the life she wants to outside of home. But as we all know, those fronts can only go on for so long. Being that my parents don't know I'm gay, they don't know that I don't like girls. And thus, the problem is revealed!

I hate having to continuously lie to my mother and father about why I don't have or want a girlfriend. Last week I had this modeling even that I was modeling in and my parents have always noticed that I have a lot of pretty girl's around me. So the general question is, why don't you have a girlfriend? What about that pretty girl? Why don't you like her?

I have a brother that is eleven months older than I am, so he is expected to be dating and so on as well. He will bring home girls and my parents enjoy meeting his girlfriends and him talk about he's going out on a date and so forth. But then there is me whom doesn't want a girlfriend, and I have to come up with a lie everytime as to why I don't.

Everytime I think I've defeated their reasonings and questions around this topic, they always come back again. Back when I was dating girls, my parents used to have everything to say about it! And then my sophomore year I purposely allowed my parents witness my kiss with a girl! Just to throw them off my gay trail! And then over the summer I told them I had a different girlfriend and after that I told them I didn't want a girlfriend because they either annoyed me, weren't right for me, or I was playing the field.

But they have all managed to be questioned! "Isn't that girl good enough for you?" "What's wrong with her?!" Why can't they just stay out of my business? I know they want me to be happy and find someone who is right for me, but you don't got to ask me every couple of weeks to see if there was a magical princess that is my knight in shining armour, or in their minds, Juliet to be Wed and bed.

And it doesn't stop there! All adults do this! They assume I'm straight, understandably, and ask if I'm a "killer with the ladies". Let these adults see one girl with her arm around mine or coming to see me and I'm a womanizer or pimp. They will all be ready to tell me to stop flirting or go off with that girl cause she's cute or you should get used to how girl's are because you'll be spending the rest of your life with her and it just upsets me cause it makes it harder to say I'm a player for the other team.

I may be getting upset over something that isn't a big deal to some, but it bugs me because these are the comments that tell some young guys that you should be with a girl. And that's what leads to young gay men feeling bad about themselves or hiding who they are even longer. But that is part of this gay cub's battle with society... But I'll win someday. Thanks for listening,

~Be breezy!~