Michael was obviously nervous about something. I assured him that I was his best friend and he could tell me anything. The nervousness seemed to melt away, he was still very tentative with his words."For god's sake, Michael, will you cut the shit and tell me what's going on? What's bugging you, big man?"
"Geordie, I'm gay. I'm a f*g. I'm a queer. I'm light in the loafers. I'm a back door destroyer. I'm a homo. Is that clear enough for you?" He sat staring at me with a blank gaze. I stared at him.... Not knowing what to say to him.
Crazy thoughts flew through my mind. Was this the end of our friendship? Why was he telling me this? How long had he known? Was he sure? Is this just a phase he's going through? Then, the memories of him never having a girlfriend, never seeming to be interested in girls, and never participating in our discussions about pussy. It all started to make sense now.
Then the thought hit me that I knew this all along. I was not mad. I was not appalled. I was not sickened by this new knowledge. I was a pretty liberal, free-thinking kind of guy. I'd tried sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I lived a good, fun, uninhibited life. I, in fact, was somewhat relieved to know that his being gay was the only thing bothering him.
I finally responded. "Okay. So, what am I supposed to do? You're not making a pass at me, are you? You don't love me like that, do you?" I grinned a sheepish grin, somewhat afraid that he might say 'yes'.
A few seconds passed before he started laughing.
Turns out, I learned that his laugh was one of relief. He was sure that he was about to lose a friend over his confession. He was certain that I'd be sick at the thought of having a fruit for a friend. He was absolutely and totally relieved at my response.
We stayed at the Starbucks coffee shop for the next couple of hours while Michael shared his story with me about "coming out" to his parents. They, too, received the news pretty well. His dad didn't disown him. His mom didn't have a nervous breakdown. They had had their suspicions for a few years, and his confession was more or less the news they had been expecting for a long time.
Michael was a good looking guy. In high school, girls were always expressing their interest in dating him. He was tall, thin, and athletic. Girls finally came to the conclusion that he was just stuck up and thought he was too good for them. In fact, I found out that most girls finally decided that Michael had a girlfriend in another town, and that's why they never saw him with a girl in our community. No-one ever sensed that he was gay.
My friend told me about how he had been attracted to men from an early age. He loved watching sports, especially wrestling, on TV. Not because of the game, or the sport, or having a favorite team that he supported. He loved to watch the muscle-bound hunks in their wrestling tights, or the footballers in they're tracksuits while training.
