I was reading through the blogs I read tonight trying to comment a little more than I have been because I don't have to be up early tomorrow. Kelly over at Rambling Along In Life was discussing that today, October 11th is National Coming Out Day. I knew that it was coming but it had completely slipped my mind. In fact I hardly ever think about coming out of the closet because I have been out for so long. So in honor of the occasion I thought I would share my story.

I have known I liked boys for as long as I can remember. I first learned the term "gay" when I was in junior high school from the T.V. show Alice. Alice's son had been asked to go on a fishing trip with a friend of hers and then at some point in the show it was discovered that he was "gay." I looked the term up in the dictionary. That lead me to homosexual. That lead me to understand gay was what boy's were that liked other boys. I don't know if I thought of myself that way but there was a term to it.

I spent my puberty years lusting after the boys in my yearbooks. R.H. and D.H. were favorite fantasies of mine. I also found a couple of Penthouse magazines my father had and I was much more interested in the men than I was the women. At this point I would have never admitted this or talked about it with anyone. I've known since I was very young that sex was not something you talked about openly with anyone.

About the time I was ready to get my driver's license an uncle was visiting our house. He was a truck driver and was telling my parents a story about a man coming on to him at a rest area. He ended up punching the guy several times before driving a way. My interest was peaked, maybe that was where boys who liked boys went. To rest areas. I got my drivers license several weeks later and got in to my newly purchase 1971 Chevy Impala (It was as big as Texas) and around 10:00 p.m. found myself in the parking lot of the rest area up the highway from my parent's house. Nothing happened that night but the writing was on the wall if you get my drift. It took several trips but eventually one night I was "picked up" by a beautiful shirtless man. We talked for a few minutes by the picnic tables and then made our way down into the trees. I was so nervous my teeth were chattering.

We did our thing and I made my way back to my car. I felt so dirty and so bad and swore to myself that I would never do that again. And I didn't for a week or two. And then the pull brought me back to the same place. Over the next two years I frequented this place every couple of weeks. After each visit I would swear it was the last time and that it would never happen again. It's funny because I remember being terrified that I was going to get herpes because it had been in the news and all the reports talked about there being no cure. This was several years before AIDS would come into the picture.

During this same time I had a girlfriend. We never did anything more than kiss. I think I played with her tits a couple of time. But I don't think either of us were wanting to go any farther. We dated until the end of my freshman year of college and then she began dating a new guy. If I had to guess I'd say that he was gay to. But that's a different story.

I started college at a small religious college in Kentucky. It didn't help my extra-curricular activities. In fact it probably made them worse. There was no outlet to talk to anyone and I was driven even farther into the closet. Homosexuality was a sin and not to be spoken about. I joined a fraternity, and became one of the guys. I never had a girlfriend but I had the most beautiful dates for all of our parties and events. I did all the things you were supposed to do as a "guy" except for the girl thing. What's funny, is looking back on it, out of the 10 guys in my pledge class I know now that three of us were gay and I suspect two others are too, although we've never talked about it.

In college I didn't dare go to gay bars because I was convinced someone I knew would see me. So I continued to frequent places known for gay sex. It's amazing how far word of mouth would take you, along with some writing on the bathroom wall, before the internet. At this point I didn't know that you could live out of the closet. That people might be okay with the fact that you were gay. There were boys I met at some of the places that I saw more than once. In fact I became quite enamored of one but I think I scared him and he soon ended it. And back I would go to my "places" to be bad. Continuing to promise after each time to never do it again.

After college I moved to Atlanta. I had a corporate job that lasted about 2 months before I went in to my boss, thanked him for the opportunity and quit. To this day it was one of the worst jobs of my life. I worked at J.C. Penny's for a while and then had a boy that I messed around with say to me that I could make more money waiting tables and that his boyfriend could get me hired. (Don't ask. I was friends with both of them till they left Atlanta.) I applied for the waiting job, lied about my experience and was hired.

I immediately fit right in and I took to waiting like nothing I had ever done. I was good at it. Within a couple of days I made a shocking discovery. ALL of the front of house staff except for two bartenders were gay. Not only were they gay, but they were openly gay. They joked about it. They made girlfriend and Mary jokes. They were gay and okay with it. They were all kinds of gay. There was body builder guy. Swishy hostess guy. There was chubby musical theatre guy. There was model guy. There was drug dealer guy. There was cross dressing guy. And there was me. Within a couple of days I found out there was a bet on whether I was gay or straight. All the boys said I was gay. All the girls said I was straight. I lied. Of course I was straight. I could never be gay.

I was young, making more money than I ever had before and I was surrounded by gay men. I was scared shitless. I began flirting with a couple of girls. One in particular. S.W. She was beautiful, and funny, and smart. She was smitten. About two months after I started working there S.W. invited me along with the rest of the restaurant to her and her roommates first annual Jewish Christmas Party. It was to be a huge event and anybody who was anybody would be there. Of course I went. I spent the first half of the evening having fun, drinking too much and flirting with S.W. At one point at th party I laid one on her under the mistletoe. And if I am being honest here I think I might of even given her a hicky.

And I continued to drink. I found myself too drunk to drive and suddenly D. (I don't remember his last name) offered to drive me home. Long story short I ended up naked in the hot tub at his apartment. I spent the night with him. I didn't have my car and I had to be at work the next morning. D. and I strolled in together. The cat was out of the bag. It was one of the longest weekends of my life because suddenly everyone knew and S.W. was no longer speaking to me.

In truth it was for the best. I was out of the closet. I found that suddenly it was okay to be gay. It was okay to sing show tunes in the kitchen. It was okay to snap my fingers and say "you go girl." It was okay to do a lot of things I had been hiding all of these years. I came out of my shell. I learned to joke. And be witty. And have snappy comebacks. And I learned that it was okay to be me. That people would like me for me. At this point I'll add that S.W. didn't have much to do with me for about six months. Then we started hanging out together and became inseparable. We are still great friends and she is one of the dearest people to me in my life. In fact it was S.W. that I stayed with on the evening of 9-11.

These stories are never short so bare with me.

I spent two years in Atlanta. Made some great friends. Dated some wonderful boys. Continued to frequent some of those "bad places" and learned to be gay. There was a point when it was time to leave and I moved back home to go to graduate school. The weekend I moved back I met J.C. and we became instant boyfriends. Now I was in my hometown, with a boyfriend, going to school. My new rule was I might not tell you I was gay but if you asked I wouldn't lie. Within a couple of months everyone at school knew, everyone at work knew and I was just living my life.

Since that time I have lived my life that way. I might not tell you but if you ask I won't lie. I don't always let people know right away because I want them to judge whether they like me not on my sexuality but on the person they meet. My being gay is important to me, but it's not the end all be all of my life.

As for my family. Two years after I moved back home I started dating S.G. He's the love of my life from posts about a month ago. (I promise I'll finish the story.) We moved into together into a beautiful house that had been sub-divided into apartments. We had about a 1200 square foot one bedroom apartment with one bed. For two years in a row S.G. and I hosted my entire extended family for Christmas Eve and we never hid any part of our lives. The books remained out. The magazines remained out. We only had one bed and it was no secret. Everyone had a great time, they loved S.G. and no one asked.

No one has ever asked. Well not really. I am not that close to my family. I love them dearly but I don't discuss much about my life with them and they have never understood me. They don't understand why I would want to go to school for 22 of my 41 years. They don't understand why I would want to leave Kentucky. They don't understand my profession. They don't understand why I do anything. So when we talk, we talk about the weather, and the weather, and well, the weather. And if things really get going we'll gossip about the other family members. But we don't really talk about my life. We never discuss the details of my personal life. They don't ask. I don't tell.

In fact until my father died I had never discussed it with anyone. But in May of 2003 when my father died unexpectedly from a heart attack, D.L.C. (the evil boyfriend) and I flew home to do the things you must do when a parent dies. He attended every event and we slept together in the same bed. He was very much a part of the family and no one questioned his attendance. Not until after the funeral. I had a couple of cousins who told me how much they liked him and that he was a keeper. Two of my aunts told me how much they liked him. I now have a few family members that will ask after him and I have told them we are no longer together.

There's really no reason I didn't tell both of my parents when my father was alive. Or even my mother now. They have always been accepting of whomever I brought home with me. In my time I have brought home just about every kind of person you could think of and they have always been welcome. In fact there are less than savory people my mother will still ask about and I don't have the heart to tell her why I don't still speak to them. And since I am spilling my guts I should also let you know that my brother is also gay and he told my parents years ago. And still I didn't tell them. I just don't think it's important. Not yet. But as I have said. I'll never hide it.