gayNwyo

"Honey, I'm bisexual, you've always known that. Right now I have no sexual desire towards women at all." Randy explained, five minutes before Katherine needed to be out the door. "So, it must be me then? Have you felt this way when you were with other women? What about Rosalie? What about Constance?? Did you feel that way with them???" Katherine asked, lining up the questions perfectly to make her point drive home. "No." Randy confessed. "Then, it has to be me. I'm sorry I'm not a super model, I mean, look at me..." Katherine presented herself melodramatically with a sweet little jig of a dance. "But this isn't about you." Randy went on. "It's about me, and not you. It's about me, not you, not you, there's nothing wrong with you..." He stammered, repeating himself, in an effort to make sure it was understood. "I don't understand." She called me out with the next question. "Are...

Rosalie loved to go out into the woods with me. We'd leave Pahaska Teepee and venture out into the cool and misty evenings of the Yellowstone woods. We were out this particular evening, when normally we'd be a sexy and sweaty mess in the sheets. We walked quietly, hand in hand, during this, our sweet summer of love and passion and sex. Every day sex, anywhere we could sex. We walked on, into the night. "I can't tell you everything that happened to me. I simply cannot. There is no way, I've too many secrets. If you knew them all, you wouldn't love me anymore." Into the woods. Into the cool. Into the night. Into the secrets.

"I'm at a whole new level of I don't give a fuck! I could care less what other's think of me. And that's a dangerously beautiful place to be!" 

I attempted suicide after Rita and I were officially divorced. I was prime material for it, too. I was smoking cigarettes and two or three bowls of mary jane everyday. Add Zoloft on top of that and maybe a few glasses of Jack & Coke, on the rocks. Burns nice in the stomach. I went home and locked myself in my room after a night out and all of the above, plus a pocket with six or seven Valium in it. So that night, I swallowed those pills and lay down to hopefully die. 

I could've gone on and on about the sex we had together. Wild, insane sex that throttles a young handsome boy like me. I could've been a real boy whore if I'd wanted to. But I had no interest in more than one girl at a time. One was more than quite enough, thank you very much!

Rita was Ryan's young valentine, sweetheart, love bug sex machine. She was the sweet tragic Juliet to Ryan's Romeo. She believed in the romance of the ages. She felt and believed that she descended from royalty, and behaved accordingly. Ryan was deeply in love with her, before she became someone else that he'd never met, overnight. She sparkled with sexiness and bubbled with energy and personality. But she had secrets, too many. She never dealt with those. Her idea of dealing with a secret was to run straight away from it, and never look back, ever. That idea ended us.

God created me. Woman have shaped me. Men have changed me.

"Remains of love are all I know. My battle scars that never go. But there was a time, under this sky, of an endless summer, with you and I."

Your tragic eyes burn abrasions in my heart, clenching it up into a tiny black hole. I want to suck you in. I can feel your realm of pain when you speak to me about her. You love her with a stagnant passion, never letting go of the past, but letting it sit like an abandon home in the ghost town of your soul. What sort of lewd woman could use your tender love to go fishing in your pockets? It's like Hiroshima all over again, an explosion in your beating muscle, leaving you left for dust. I wish I could take you in my arms and comfort you. I'd let you cry on my shoulder, and let your tears drench my hair, and wear your salt as a badge of your courage. I wish I could tell you it will all be okay and have you believe in my words, but you are too broken.  I am honored that you have opened the door, to let me see a glimpse of your world. You are a special friend. I have to admit I have a certain love for you. Not a burning, passionate love, like that of a pair of unbroken lovers, but...

"As long as you walk in expecting the absolute worst scenario to play out, you'll never be disappointed." He stated, as if that's how he went about business in his world.   She found that depressing & sad, but enlightening, too.

"Your ex came through my line today." She said. "I wanted to punch that mother fucker in the face! Cocky sassy self absorbed fuck!" "So, you don't want to wait on me?" She said he asked... desperately.  "No the fuck I didn't, he made me sick." She told me afterwards. 

We fought, a furious and nasty fight, when we arrived in Vegas. He threatened to leave me there. I stumbled through the streets alone. Traumatized.  Why would he say those things to me? Still, I went back to him.

Jeremiah. The young gorgeous boy who awakened in me a very lusty gay man.  I was twice his age, but he simply would've had to ask. He led me on, made me look at him in erotic ways. He teased me, he taunted me. He made my blood run boiling hot. He knew exactly what he was doing. I had to disappear to my car a few times just to rub a load out, so I could get through the day. He invited me over to his house. I said I'd go, but never did.  "He's far too young of a stud for you anyhow, Randy." I'd think to myself. Far too young. But I did so desire him, and him, I, the older man.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to burn out early?" Katherine questioned, satisfied after another sexual marathon with Randy. Randy confessed, with a tear drenched face, naked on the floor. "Yes, like a magnificent star that burned with such energy, spectacle and brilliance that it got carried away with itself. Much like we have tonight."  The orgasm he's just experienced felt like a small burn out, like the energy he'd just released inside her was a small death. 

Rosalie's mother, Myra, hated everything the name Jevne stood for. She had gone to school in the sixties with a pack of boys with this last name, and the lot of them were mean, fierce and nasty. There were five boys and one girl. The names don't matter. But these boys were hellions, a rowdy bunch of boys that Myra remembered well. Now, her daughter was dating one of these Jevne's. She would make Ryan pay for the hell that his father and uncles had put her through. He wasn't good enough for her daughter. 

"Once people know what to expect from you," he quoted, "your spell on them is broken." "My," she wondered, "that's a fascinating idea. Is that original, did you come up with that??" "No, I picked it up from some classic film I saw once, and it really stuck with me." "Intriguing," she remarked. "Have you found that to be true in your life??" "Yes. It's more charming to be unexpected and unpredictable," he confessed.  As was his nature, naturally.

"And if, at the end of the day, they still haunt you, they are the one."  

"Across time & space we had connected." He relented. "Yet you let each other go?!" She implored. "It was toxic as hell." There was nothing more to be said.

"We're all going to die, sooner or later." She stated. "And soon, none of that matters anymore. " He stated back. 

"There once was a time that I lied." He confessed. "But I only lied to protect the truth." "Is that still a lie?"  She asked back. "Tell me the truth!" He was desperate.  "What does your heart tell you?" She shot back. He didn't have a heart anymore, he realized. 

My sweet man Frederick.  I slapped his face while we made out. "Are you sure you weren't the abusive one...?" He asked. I cackled a wild cackle. We continued to make out... Sweet Frederick. 

"Anything is better than being alone. I can't go back to that..." So he decided to stay. He loved that man, with all his heart and soul. 

Dinner at home dulled in comparison to the lively afternoon activities that had zapped all the energy I seemed to possess hours before. A new world had opened up for me. One filled with burning sensations that seized my lower abdomen. Waves of excitement came and left. Mom, in her own way knew something was going on with me. She'd get around to it. I was sure of that. Her hair was pulled back in a messy but classy tuft behind her head. A few strings were brushed away from her hazel eyes as she threw her head back to swallow a gulp of her evening vodka mix. She had a restless and disturbing beauty that must have been enchanting in her twenties. She still possessed all the allure, even if she was my mother. An admirable and noble allure, the kind I'm sure my dad found appealing. Vodka was his replacement. "Hayden, dear," she started in as she served another helping of whipped mashed potatoes smoothly on the plate before me. "How was your afternoon with that girl fr...

The words they speak torture my soul, as I sit quietly in the corner. Afraid to make a move, afraid to make a sound. Maybe what I have to say is a bit too profound. My mind doesn't work the way that theirs do. Thoughts run through my head, but my mouth remains motionless. Silence is something I value, more so than most people. "Bored as sin?" He asks me when I glance his way. "No." I lie, as he goes back to the conversation that seems miles away.

No one else will write my story, so I must. Perhaps after I'm gone people may read it. Perhaps not... but I must write it, regardless. It's gonna be sappy, and sad, and sloppy, but all so sweet, too. There was a time when, and where I believed that the world was no bigger than my own back yard. What a sweet spot that was. Simple, serene and secure. I can't remember the last time I felt a comfort like that. My first real memory was a mixed memory of vivid imagery and intense pain. As an infant and a toddler I suffered from recurring ear infections. My mother was holding me against her chest, rocking me in a rocking chair, next to a giant window that looked into our large backyard.  I remember the burning pain in my ears, so hot and searing that I looked out into the backyard to try to escape it. There was a sandbox several yards away, where I remember playing as a child. As I attempted to escape to that space in my mind to avoid the pain, a witch materialized in the sandbox....

God was serenely merciful with me during the summer of mourning your loss. He compressed time for me, so I could bear my heart wrenching grief. A matter of months slipped by in what seemed like a matter of days, and what now only seems like a space of a few tormented hours. A summer ultimately lost to save my broken heart. God was there when even my soul could not bear its' own shattered company.

She turned and smiled back at me, climbing up her apple tree. I didn't know it at the time, but the scent that lingered after her would be one I'd later come to love. Memories connected with the sense of smell are very engaging. They go deeper than the average memory, I suppose because so much more is involved. Musk and apple pie. She wanted to tell me a secret. Secrets, especially when you're twelve, are worth climbing a tree for. Especially when the girl looked like she did. Her blonde hair fell in careless wisps and danced lightly on her shoulders as she climbed. One pale thigh brushed the other under the red and white gingham skirt that hugged her plump bottom. She'd removed her sandals to make the climb easier. Her white knit blouse snagged a bit on the bark and she let out a small sigh as she freed it with a quick snatch of her delicate fingers. The neighborhood was fresh and alive with the scents and visual pleasures of summer. Fresh cut grass and a lemonade stan...

January 14, 1996 Dear Ryan, Well, here it is in a nut shell. You're free, but remember, this was your decision. I promised myself once that I would never again let a man hurt me. I felt safe with that promise when I was with you. What can I say? Deception sucks. The truth is, we will never have a chance at another relationship. That was it. Sorry, but I can't go through this with you constantly. Unlike you, I was never tempted for a shot with another guy. Sorry, I thought I had something great. Next time I'll try not to think of possibilities when I start a new relationship. After I graduate, I'll be leaving the state, I'm signing onto a modeling contract next month and I'll start recording a tape in late June. There's nothing more for me to stay here for anymore. You will most likely never see me again. So I guess this is it. You can finally have your way now that you are no longer 'tied down.' Sorry, I didn't know I was so demanding. Keep in to...

"Just another check off your list, I know!" I screamed at Josh through the door that was between us, my left foot barring it closed. "I know all about that!" I screamed even louder. Josh was a good friend of a good friend. A school acquaintance of mine through high school, perhaps two years younger than me. He was milk chocolate of complexion, with tight tousled curls on top of his head and eyes that sparkled silver. He fancied me through the years, I could tell, and he had no issues with others knowing he was gay. Sweet boy, however provoking... We'd got naked on his birthday. "You had a list of boys you were going to prove were gay!" I hissed through the crack of the door. 

He was still in love, so very much. Could he, would he, ever truly forgive? Too proud a man for that. Happy Valentines Day!

He listened ever so carefully to the way he talked about others, knowing someday he'd talk about him in the same way.

Sweet Dan came to me, sweetly in the night. We fooled around, naked and such. He'll be back...

"Time doesn't exist like we think it does. All you ever have is now, ever." He stated, absolutely.

"Well, I don't feel I'd be any happier under any other set of circumstances." Randy admitted. "Suppose everything was the opposite, and I had everything I wanted. Who's to say I wouldn't be just as unhappy then, if not even more unhappy, or most likely even dead...?" "So, is this really all about self acceptance?" Sue questioned. "No, it can't be. If I felt those around me were more accepting of who and what I was, in their perceptions, who's to say my self acceptance would hinge on those circumstance alone?" Randy went on. "Self acceptance shouldn't rely so much on the relationships one has in his life, but they are connected. I'm convinced of that, truly. But rather self acceptance should rely solely on ones own relationship with himself."  "Absolutely." Sue shot back. "Abso-fucking-lutely!" 

He looked me straight in the eyes. "Why does everyone think you are gay?!" The question, so piercing and direct came out of nowhere, completely unexpected and immediately destructive. Randy was caught, trapped, paralyzed, and unable to move, there on the bus. Every ear that was in range must have absorbed the question, too. All turned to see what my reaction may be, somehow knowing instinctually that the target of the question was undeniably me. Randy froze, inside and out, as if his last breath had been sucked from his body. A rush of sickening, cold energy passed through his gut, quickly and fiercely. "I don't know." Was all he could muster. He then closed his eyes. They remained closed until the bus had stopped, arriving at it's final location, his home. 

"You are great at what you do, and that man on your shoulder is absolutely correct." Randy confessed in the midst of his therapy session. "How do you know these things?" "I just do." Jacob simply stated. "I absolutely trust the man upstairs. He always has all the answers, even if the answers aren't always the answers we are looking for." "So, you're saying to stop the fighting, to let go, to surrender and let God pick up the pieces, the ugly pieces that have been inside me all this time? It seems selfish to me, and at some point there has to be a counter offer that may not be as appealing as the surrender..." 

"You really feel you weren't that far gone Randy?!? You scared me and yourself. You blacked out. You don't remember writing some of the things you wrote. You woke up half naked in the back yard... Don't you remember telling me that?!? That is serious! And you should look at it that way. You need help. You need to stay there, for you, and for me, and for our children." Katherine was edgy and direct, and Randy got the sense that she somehow made up her mind about how things would be when he returned home. "I know. I know. Ok." That was all Randy could say. He was defeated at every level. Looking back, he had done some risky things, stupid and selfish and shameful things. He hung the phone up, knowing there was nothing more to be said. He had to stay.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, but some hearts are darker, and what they want isn't what is best for the body it inhabits." She explained to Randy in a way that made him feel she may suspect that he had a darker heart than he was portraying. "My heart is really all that I have lately, so I feel the yearnings of my heart are founded in the most sincerest of places." Randy felt he needed to defend himself, for she had really cut to the chase after only a brief yet intense conversation with him. "I can literally feel the struggle going on within your soul. There is a fight, a battle, soon to be a war. I don't know if your equipped for that..." 

"No one cares anymore." She simply stated.  He wanted to agree with her, but she was wrong.  Everyone cared, she just couldn't see that.

She suggested a shot in the bar, that night... He took it. Then he had the hardest look at himself that he'd had in his entire life.  He didn't like that shot, so much....

"What you think is happening, and what really IS happening are two totally different things!" She emphasized. That struck him strange... But she was absolutely absolute!

"Seek out & destroy." Was his method. He'd resolved himself to protect his precious reputation.  The poor fool...

"He called you a cockroach." She said. "But we all saw him for what he was, a self absorbed narsaccist, pathetic for what we all thought of him." "I could've told you what he was, Ryan, I'm sorry he hurt you so." "None of that matters anymore. I'm sad that he's so angry, still..."

"He's in a safe place now, a place he safely calls 'he doesn't care.'" "Is that healthy?" She asked. "For him it is. And I think it's best we leave him there." They agreed it was, until it wasn't. 

He wanted to act out his gay fantasy.  Obviously closeted in this small Wyoming town. He just wanted a massage. He undressed, save for his undies, covering his sexy tight bottom. But I knew he wanted more... I massaged, then he asked me to remove his undies. The supposed massage turned into the sweetest tossed salad I ever ate, for quite some time, too... felt like days. It ended with him sitting on my face, and me cumming intensely and sweetly on my tummy, inches away from his face... Sweet Joey, thanks for a wonderful evening! ;)

The walls that he built up through the years were thick and ominous. They could often be felt before they were seen. He built them to safeguard his heart, a heart that was wounded and fragile.  He built up the walls in order to become safe, but in so doing he became lonely and sad, desperate for someone to even approach the walls.  However, when he finally found someone willing to approach, he'd put up yet another wall, especially built for the approaching party, whoever they be and with whatever intention they approached.  Would the walls be expected to be taken down? Would the walls crumble, regardless of how he tried to prop them up? Walls, when built upon fear, rarely stand against truth.

Ryan, Even though you're far away, you're in my thoughts every single day. All the passion I saw in your eyes, the way you held me under the star lit skies. As the hues set in and said their prayers, I was next to you, and in your cares. I heard your heart say those sweet words that comfort me every time they are heard. And in my soul, I know it is true, when I say that I will always love you.  Love, Always & Forever Rosalie Lane

"You fell in love with the perfect Ryan, the Ryan I was then. I've changed. You say you still love me, but I'm still me, just under some dark and wicked spell that cannot be broken. You fell in love with the perfect Ryan that I never was!" She couldn't disagree, the man she loved was still under there, under all that mess that the drugs and medication had so seriously buried. "I know, I know." She surrendered. But she wasn't up for the fight to ever try to find that Ryan again. 

It had taken her some time to truly process what he had truly become. He had become distant and despondent, numb of genuine emotions that could have proved valuable at some crucial turning points. He had become withdrawn and reclusive, determined to be alone and uselessly occupied. Sometimes he would write, sometimes he would watch classic television or classic films. Sometimes he would smoke a bowl to enhance the experiences. He would also hand craft Ruby Slippers. It was his hobby turned obsession, an obsession that could consume him, had consumed him, was consuming him. He had little else in his tiny world to occupy himself. He was lonely, looking for anyone who may possibly understand his small dark world.   

Ryan, My anticipation grows each day I awake. You're locked in my thoughts, leaving my heart so at stake. I need to be in your presence, to be seen by your eyes, to hear all those words, so I know they weren't lies. I need to not be forgotten, just one of those pasts. In a love that was bruised, and too weak to last. I need all that comfort that I find in your arms. I need the fulfillment that comes with your charm. I love you! Rosalie Lane The one in the shadows has always been you...

She overheard him say, "He wanted a ring, he wanted to marry me... We were on and off again, but I couldn't get stuck with his finances..."

" You're the long lost brother I've been waiting for..." "As are you!" They embraced.  Never to be separated again.  Brothers.

He was waiting for an absolution. An absolution that may never come. He consoled himself with the fact.

"People out there will try to convince you that you are something that you are not. Don't believe them and continue to be yourself with those who are currently in your world. To thine own self, be they self, with yourself, and when you are lost with others. Shine like the brilliant sun and moon that you are. People will see that shine, that radiant Ryan and seek to extinguish and devour you. Do not let them sift you about, like wheat. Be you, despite the wicked whispered thoughts of those who may surround you in heaps. Be you, regardless of the raunchy rumors that some may have you supposing. Be you in a world that cannot buy you, piece you up, abuse you, taunt you, reuse you and then tuck you away into a box. Boxes are for things. Houses are for people. Beware of those who may give you all, without sacrificing any of who they are. Be you and be free, my sweet boy. Be you, now, my radiant Ryan." She stopped there, for I had began to cry. 

"My entire life is being pulled inside out, within a matter of a few short days. Do you realize the magnitude of this and how it will play out for the rest of your life, and the ramifications that await you there?!?" Randy was again reading the minds of those around him. Randy knew exactly how this man felt. "My God, how can he even think of doing these things, let alone write them all down..?!? I simply do not have all the tools to adequately deal with the current circumstances, such as they are. I'm emotionally disabled..." Randy had to shelter himself from the bombarding thoughts of his father. He thought to himself. "Believe in your mind, that you can accomplish the impossible, and you shall. Think it into your world so you can show them that what was once impossible, isn't anymore." 'The sky is the limit my son!' he imagined his father saying, instead... 

There When the sun sets, when it rises, you are there. When the wind blows, when the clouds roll, you are there. When I blink, you are there, when I breath, you're there. When I'm sleeping, you're there. When I'm alone, you're there. When I'm walking, or talking, or singing, you're there. When darkness floods my empty world, you are there. You're here now, but you are not. When you've truly fallen in love with someone, pieces of them follow you around for the rest of your life. Like running inside a mirrored circus maze, with every turn you're reminded, in one way or another, of the people you really loved and still do love in this life.  The secret to solving the mirrored maze of lost love is to look down at your feet and keep moving...

Randy, If love is forever, then what must we do, when ignorance steps in and turns our hearts blue? If fate is so friendly, then where should we turn, when there's just not enough of a lesson to learn? Night only brings the pain of before, then why look back, when there should be closed doors? But if we forget what brought us together, then we'll lose what we had and regret it forever. I love you, Now & Forever. YOUR WIFE

"It will, honey, it will!" She assured me my dream would come true.  I doubted her, but it ultimately did!

He had a plan. A very wicked & nasty plan. He'd follow it through. Come Hell or High Water.

He sat there with his wine. Wondering how completely he had ruined his world. He couldn't have done it more perfectly if he'd wished to...

"I want to know your deepest, darkest secret..." Rosalie whispered softly to me after we had just made sweet summer morning love. Splendid. "I don't have one." Randy replied, caught off guard by the timing of the question. She hesitated, breath held tightly, as if she had expected an epic response of scandalous nature. "Not one?" She asked, again, hoping for more. "Nope." Randy ended. "I don't believe you!" She wailed, gritting her teeth. All night long... 

The subject matter was in question. The subject matter of the play I was in. A particular conscious mother of the community familiarized herself with the play and seemed hell bent on shutting us down near opening night. My father followed pace and removed me from the play, forbidding me to take part in such sexually suggestive dialogue. When I was growing up, my father would always be the voice of affirmation during a movie that may have been questionable at home. "Don't worry," he'd say, "it's just a movie. They were just actors, acting, playing out a story, pretending. I wanted to be one of them, an actor. Plaza Suite was the title of the play, written by Neil Simon. I was playing the role of a sleazy producer, trying to seduce an old girlfriend, who was now married with children. Weeks I had worked to learn lines, emotions and blocking. All to be pulled out at the last moment. I feel now he was trying to save me from something, or he was trying to teach me...

I don't recollect exactly what took place at the dinner table that evening. Only that we were all there. My older brother, my two younger sisters and my youngest brother. Mom and Dad were there, too, of course. We took family dinner together very seriously. All were expected to be there. More often than not, we were served chicken. I avoid chicken when possible to this day. What we had for dinner that night was far from the point. We all had a bowl full of truth that night, and the after taste is still in my mouth, all these years later. Truth, coming from the right server, may taste amazing, but my Father was no matradee.  He was, and still is, an excellent chef, but when it came to words he couldn't churn up a sentence for days. Although he could drop mid sentence at night and pick it right up the next morning and expect everyone to know precisely what he was talking about. If only I could have followed that train of thought somehow, and bottled it up. Would it make sense to ...

I remember my father being angry. Even when he was still, stoic and silent. I could feel anger brewing in him, even across the house, through walls. I feared this anger. It was most confusing for me, this anger. I couldn't understand or process it.  So, with no other choice, I internalized it. Put it away in a box, inside my head and heart. Unaware of the emotions that I encountered, I would distract myself with my imagination. It was safer that way. It was awful lonely, but at least it was safe. Safe from the strong, stoic, silent and stern man. The enigma - my father. 

Katherine, the true savior of my heart. What would I do without her? I would never believe, or let myself imagine a life without her existence in it. I cannot begin to process what that may mean for a heart so broken and rebellious as mine. Another loss, another relationship severed. Would she be in my life forever? Emma is her eternal name. Mine is Reuben. These are sacred names I'm sharing with you. She does not know my name, and I can only call her name, after we have died. Sacred only between us and only after death... The magnitude of this is immense. Some say insane...

"I can completely transform myself in a matter of moments into anyone I choose in order to fit into any situation that might arise, if my heart is in it. I'm a trained actor after all. Script or not, the show must go on, whether I truly know my character or not." He coyly stated. She then directed. "So, live in the moment, feel alive and take it all in, and transform the energy you feel into something beautiful and bewitching. You haven't run out of that kind of magic yet, not by a billion miles."

Adam, Randy had soon decided, was a mess of nerves with volatile capacity. Attention seeking and so rawly insecure, yet beautifully individualized at the same time. All the faults that others found in him, and he found in himself were all the parts of the person he was. Why then, this intense attraction?? The goods and the bads, like a vanilla chocolate swirled dipped cone. Cool, smooth and dark on the outside, but with a churning and confusing center. It would stay smooth and cool unless disturbed. When disturbed it would quickly melt and be devoured, leaving nothing but a soggy, slightly crunchy cone that really wasn't the best parts of its' whole anyhow. That's how Randy saw Adam, as a tempting treat, but too much of a risky mess to mess with at all. 

"It's the things that you've forgotten, dear Randy, that you need to remember again. Time has a way of making you bitter and estranged to almost everyone around you. You need to forget about the hurt, and the pain, and the trauma, and the resulting anger. You need to forget your losses and see your gains. You must forget the longings and the lusts. You must forget." "You must remember the good that is within you always, never truly buried, always a glowing ember of truth among all the ashes of emotions, traumas and psychic connections. You must remember, always and forever, the light inside you. Let it shine brightly for all to see."

I won't be moving back in with you. It's obvious that's not the best thing to do. I've always been an all or nothing in a relationship. I feel I've given my all. I gave up so much to be with you. I sacrificed my life in Riverton, my jobs, my home, my family. I never meant to take advantage of you, but obviously I did. I will never do that again. I think it best that we end our relationship. Thank you for all you have done for me. I'll always love you.  Really? You won't talk to me about anything. I never know what kind of mood you will be in or how you feel. You haven't wanted to spend the night with me at all. You left last night because I wasn't in the mood for getting frisky and that bothered me a lot. I've tried to help so much, but you always say you don't need it and you'll figure it out. I know you gave up a lot and you don't know how much I appreciated that, but you won't communicate. Seems like lately all you want to do i...

"He was petulant as a toddler and emotionally abusive." "Well, he said you were a socially awkward, emotionally retarded, selfish bottom..."

The first and only time that Victoria caught Randy masturbating was one hot Sunday afternoon after church when he assumed that everyone one else would, either, one, knock, or two, be sleeping. That's what we did after church on Sundays, we slept, masturbated or had sex. Whatever... My mother walked in on me. I still had my Sunday best on. Well, half way on... I had my black Sunday slacks down around my ankles and I was engaged in the most serious masturbation session, ever, up to that point. Mom startled me, she asked what I was doing... "It's was hot..." is all I had to offer as an explanation. I knew my mom knew what I was doing. We never spoke of that again. My father attempted to give me a talk about the birds and the bees after that. I already knew too much, too, too much. It was too late for all that. 

"Don't you want to tell the stories of your life?! Any story, or secret, or whatever you like. Just think of one, and tell it, even if it doesn't have a point, a beginning nor an end. Even if it makes sense to no one but yourself. Tell it anyway, there is always someone there to listen, always." Randy knew she was right. So he did. 

"You practically know everything that I know. It's not like anyone is gonna come find me and kill me for knowing too much. Everything I have worked for for years is invested. I am not giving up my work yet." Ryan announced. Randy knew exactly how and why Ryan felt that way about the  entire situation. "I completely understand," Randy returned back, to the most fascinating man he had ever met in his entire life. Ryan was odd around the edges, somewhat sad, lonely and ashamed. On the other side, he was beautiful, brilliant, buxom and boyish. How could all this be true?!  Randy had internally admitted love for another man. 

"Psychic abilities are a blessing, a gift, in this family. You know that." Victoria spoke aloud to Randy. "A curse sometimes, too, when you get too, too close to someone." Randy answered. "To know someone else's mind too completely is a frightening business." Jean of course, was a psychic. When, though, did Randy first know his grandmother was a mind reader as well? This gift, curse, blessing, calling, whatever, was a heavy burden to bear. It had kept him from getting too close to anyone in this life. The minds of those in his world were active, loud, sometimes too vicious and honest for him to deal with. If Randy had only known the entire story of Grandma Jeans' life, he would've understood her in exactly the same way she probably needed to be understood. When Jean and Randy saw each other for the last time in this lifetime, they both knew it was for the last time. We were saying goodbye in our minds, because no one knew she would be passing a...

The topic was never approached again, for each were too afraid to discuss it, for fear that the repercussions would undermine and destroy their love, their marriage and their small, new, fragile family. Randy remained curled up in his defeated position on the bed until he was certain she had gone. She was undoubtedly and religiously running to her mother to go on about him and her concerns. She had always, and would always take her mother Myras' words of advice as gospel. This alliance would eventually lead to the demise of the marriage of Randy and Rosalie. Randy then, impulsively, having no seeming power over himself, went to the one source of relief that would take the pain of the moments passed away. His pipe and his beloved marijuana were locked away in a trunk, inside a box, and then, another box.  He inhaled, time and again...  The pain melted away, but would return countless times in the future to torment him.

"Who does that? Who decides half way through their life that they want to change everything they have ever known? It's against everything I've been taught throughout this lifetime, against everything I've built in my life. Why, if it's such a part of who I am, does it cause so much damage in my life..??" Randy asked his addiction therapist direly. Jody came back with her answer, as best she could. "People change all the time. Their wants and their needs change as they do. Life tests all the boundaries we have set for ourselves and those around us. Not everything you've been taught requires you having to believe it. Acknowledge who you are, that's why the bravery lies, those who truly love you will excuse the damage that's been done."

Today I'm thinking of you and feeling feelings I love... Ryan, Today I am thinking of you and hearing jokes I love just because you told them, and seeing smiles I love just because you wore them, and remembering days I love just because you gave them to me as gifts. Today I am thinking of you and loving you for more reasons than I could ever even like anybody else. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY Love, Always & Forever Rosalie Lane 2/14/99

"You cannot continue to walk about in your world with the ridiculous perception that you must meet everyone's approval. It matters very little to anyone else whether you meet their approval, and far too much to yourself whether or not you do. It must be very anxiety inducing to live in such a way. The only one that truly matters in this equation is yourself. AND - you are only fooling yourself into thinking that the genuine people, of which there are very few left, cannot see the fact that you are not being genuine with them, or with yourself. Find your own unique genuineness. Find it and live with it. Never doubt it, never try to deny it, and most of all, trust it! For to live with such a truth and tenacity is the only real bravery that is ever required of all real men. To thine own self be true! Little else really matters. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? I do not know how much plainer to put it to you than that. You have all that in you, I can see that..."...

They called him Gibby, but his real name was Benny. He was clearly Mexican, yet he was void of many of the trademark signs. He had gorgeous features, brilliant silver eyes, encircled by long, dark eye lashes and sharply jutted eyebrows. His lips were incredibly angled, asking to be attended to. His tightly curled hair hugged his head, the length was deceiving. His body was simple and toned, naturally smooth and shapely. His height was lacking, but Randy could look past that. He was missing the two smallest fingers on his left hand. Something Randy hadn't noticed until they had laid together in his bed, kissing, softly, slowly, sweetly and passionately. That was all Benny wanted from Randy, sweet kisses, nothing more... It was clearly enough for him, yet it wasn't enough for Randy.  His rock hard erection wanted out, and it only hurt to keep it inside his pants, pressing fiercely against the denim. Curled up with his knees as close to his chest as he could get, and his buttocks ...

"You know, I stopped by to see Katherine at the cakery, and we got to talking about you and all of your struggles through the years. The topic of your sexuality was brought up and Katherine told me of your feelings towards me concerning your considerations of a possible alternative lifestyle. I will always love you for who you are, no matter what your choices are. You are my son. When you were in high school you were tall and handsome and all the girls were after you, and I thought, that's great! The thought of you being gay never really entered into my mind. You know Davids' son is gay and he still loves him. Love doesn't change because of who a person is. So, no, that never crossed my mind, and I don't know why you would ever think or feel that way about me." Randy was all ears and open minded, running to soak up all the words, inflections, tones and emotions. He was blown away at the level of frankness, honesty and directness that he was hearing from his fa...

He'd spent the day walking through his own created nightmare.  "Karma will catch up with you, Ryan..." She stated. He knew it was true.  "Let it catch up with me and kill me." Was all he could say...

He was enigmatic when on stage. Enigmatic and nimble, magnetic and agile, convincing and intoxicatingly sexy. Jonah exuded all the qualities that Randy found attractive, many of the qualities that he wished to have in himself. Manliness and the perfect amount of ruggedness, just enough and not too much. He had a balance in his approach and his stance that invited, or rejected a returned approach. His mind was exact, focused and brilliant, although he never needed to project that in order that it be understood. He had the ability to project emotions across the stage or across the park. He could chose a place in between as well, pin point a point in space and nail it, every single time. An art, a craft, a genuine talent. A talent that Randy found extremely rare. Rare and precisely attractive. When their eyes met on stage there was an instant and intense connection, which felt primal at the core, as if two alpha male wolves were meeting on unfounded territory. There wasn't a battle, h...

She chased me naked down a narrow flight of stairs that lead up to her top story apartment. We had just finished having a sex marathon, which occurred every time we spent the evening together. One hour led to two hours, and then sometimes into three or four. Highly satisfying, generally two to four ejaculations. She, for some unknown reason, she could not reach her popping point, which never, ever, had happened before. So she went to the bathroom to finish herself off. Randy didn't mind, one had to do what one had to do when one couldn't push themselves over the threshold with a partner. He understood. He listened to her moan it out as he dressed. He then decided he'd rather be home. She finished and came out of the bathroom to light up a bowl of pot. Ritualistic with this girl, pot, she felt, would balance her out, after a clearly satisfying climax session, alone. Still naked, she sat on the couch, taking hit after hit after hit... She then broke down into hysterical weepi...

 " A woman is only beautiful when she's loved, isn't that right, George?!" -Bette Davis

Now enters another male of some interest into our story. Adam is his name. He is scattered, unstable, emotionally insecure, rambunctious, loud, self-absorbed, manic, moody, broody, unkempt, yet still spontaneously attractive. A former heroin addict who had spiraled out of control at a young age, spoiling a mind that could have been capable of beautiful things. Underneath all that mess of a man there was so much more, however. Tenderness and kindness, and pain and passion. What was specifically attractive about him was his energy, his raw energy that entered the house when he did, and everyone who lived there was immediately aware that he was home. Electric and magnetic.  When he was absent, some housemates found it a blessed relief, because he seemed a black hole, sucking up the energy, even the air in the room. He seemed to take that from everyone in the room. But, he gave me energy, in abundance.  When Adam wasn't there, Randy missed that energy, radiating from someone who h...

"Oh no..." She couldn't stop herself from asking. "Did I just say something to upset you?" Prior to this concluding question, Rosalie had spewed venomous accusations and lies all around the bed, in heaps, circling a coiled and curled up mess of a man that was, what was left of, Randy. She had pent up inside her some awfully massive frustrations. Not just a few, but perhaps a few dozen. She lay them all out, one after the other, all leading up to the finale of all the questions and accusations.  Randy was emotionally raw, laid bare, unable to move. "What is wrong with you, why won't you talk to me? You've been so quiet lately, and you just lie there when I have so much to tell you, you must have something to say to me. Come on Randy! I'm your wife, there must be something you have to say that you are feeling or experiencing or going through... Why don't you just tell me what's going through your mind!?" Randy didn't dare to move,...

"Your father doesn't quite know how to reach you. He wants to. He wants to communicate with you. He wants to make a real connection with you, he just doesn't know how. He fears that he may hurt you somehow. Where that fear comes from, I am not sure. He handles you with care and a certain regard for the gentle person that you clearly are." "I can understand that, I just never realized that until now. Of course you are right. You really got all that from listening to him talk to me in his round about way?" Randy questioned. He fought back tears in the sober realization that his father loved him so much, so much so that he watched his words so carefully when speaking with him. The level of respect was also disarming, but comforting, calming, reassuring and a blessed long awaited relief, all at the same time. The love he instantly felt for his father was so immense he felt as if his heart had grown another size larger. Perhaps it had. Yes, it definitely had! The...

So, Jonah was Randy's first official man love.  When he thinks back on the evenings events, some things were out of place, and there are pieces of time missing, and some single images of him and I somehow against a rock, and a tree, or another large stone... Oh, shit, this is going to get deep. I've never recalled this before now... Jonah and Randy volunteered their acting abilities to the small town community organized Wyoming Shakespeare Festival Company for three Summers in a row. That Summer's performance was A Midsummer Nights Dream. Jonah was Puck, and Randy was Thisbee. Of all the Shakespearean shows to fall in lusty, lusty love with a boy... That was how their lustful Summer began. Underneath the stars, Puck was dancing, around a large fire, upon which roasted brats wrapped in bacon. Puck had been sure to supply some spirits, both in pipe and in bottle, for the evenings revelries. Thisbee was thrilled to be invited upon such an adventure, and when he invited me, sim...

Waking up to the rain outside is one of my favorite things. It reminds me of a certain Summer with a certain lover. We'd make love in the afternoons, doze off after sweet orgasms, and wake up to the three pm rain showers that passed sweetly through like trains, on time, on schedule, predictable.  Never a heavy downpour, only a half hour shower of gentle rain, enough to clear the air and refresh the senses. For these reasons and others, I love waking to the rain. There is something cleansing and pure about it. Water, of all the elements, is my favorite. There is such beauty and power and life in there. Water from the sky was extraordinary. That Summer of 17 brought sweet sex and rain showers. If only I'd been aware of the sweet delights that would be mine that Summer, and never again, sweet sexual exchanges came without lifetime expectations. That Summer alone.

She was my in between girlfriend.  " You have the perfect penis..." She whispered to me from below, where she was admiring my seven inch, five inch round, penis... perfect... I thought so, too. Though I didn't mention it at the time.  I straddled her chest, my butt cheeks pressed against her breasts.  I spurt out a stream of my jizz halfway across the mattress and, bulls eye, onto the wall, where it streamed down. And I melted right into her.

Randy, I think of you everyday. I can't help it. I just want things back the way they were. But I can't do that knowing your heart is no longer mine. I doubt it ever was. It is now on the road to somewhere more divine. I hear sad songs on the radio and can't help but to cry. Every word, every phrase, reminds me of you. I see couples walking down the street, hand in hand, with love in their eyes. We were once like that. Where did we go wrong? Where was the error? I only wish things would've worked out. I remember once when you loved me unconditionally. I had no fault and our love was invincible. Indestructible. Yet somehow it was torn apart, and my heart was torn in two.  I, of course, overreacted. But I was caught by surprise. I was hurt, shocked, I felt invaded. A man I thought I knew came out from disguise. But no matter the road I take in life, I'll always remember the highway I shared with you. I'll remember the sleepy look in your eyes as you tried to hold ...