From: buck@suba.com (Buck Foss)
Subject: Re: Choices, choices...
Date: Mon, 06 Nov 95 01:20:05 GMT

In article <309DB7CA.662E@xs4all.nl>, Jojo  wrote:

>One thing I've never seen addressed, and perhaps people
>can point me to some places to read about it, is the
>idea that homosexual (gay) men can actually choose to
>not lead a gay life, but to marry, have children, raise
>a family, and find fulfillment in their lives in a
>traditional heterosexual role, though they are, in 
>fact, 100% homosexual.

I had a particularly close male friend (and incredible piece of 
beefcake) in Boston who was my "little buddy" for about 6 years 
until his life crumbled beneath him, and I haven't heard from him 
since.

He had been married 6 years to his high school sweetheart when I met 
him one night, and I was certainly only supposed to be a one-nighter 
in a very nice hotel in Boston.  But for some reason we connected on 
a much deeper level.

In many ways we became lovers while both carrying on with our other 
"primary" (?) relationships.  Since both of our jobs involved 
travel, we often scheduled ourselves to meet and spend entire weeks 
in other cities (ah, Montreal the North American city of love.)

He was 100% homosexual, but was so in fear of losing his family's 
love that he lived a lie for nearly his entire life.  At one point 
in college he told his mom that he had decided to come out.  She 
blew a gasket, his dad disowned him, one of his brothers came over 
and slit his tires.  His family was everything to him, and he felt 
utterly bereft, save for the relationship that he had decided was 
worth enough to lose the love of his family.

Then the guy he came out for (a cop in a mid sized midwestern city 
he was living at the time) dropped him cold.  He was crushed on both 
sides, and made up a terrible lie that he had been misled into 
homosexuality and begged his family's forgiveness.

He married his high school sweetheart, and they set up a home not 
far from his parents in Connecticut.  But my little buddy couldn't 
help but try to partake of parks and movie houses for his 
satisfaction.

Then we met, and I could give him the love and affection he needed, 
while he could still lead his life back home (as I did with my lover 
at the time).  Weirdly enough, he arranged for me to meet his wife 
(who knew of his midwestern college romance), and we got along 
famously.  She might have even known I was gay, but it never dawned 
on her my little buddy would still be enjoying that side.

Although we would often lay in each other's arms and talk about 
building a life together when he was 'free', it had no meaning to 
me.  I knew he would never leave his wife.  

But this didn't upset me at all - in fact, it felt 'right" to me.  
Somehow I felt that the best relationship we could have, and the 
best mental peace he could achieve, would be in this weird dual 
existence that we were both living.  And, somehow, it felt committed 
and sharing and very positive.  Even now I read the words and know 
it sounds weird - for some reason, our emotional needs were met, and 
we shared a trust and an intimacy that made us feel like lovers.  
While we talked almost every day, and the sex was incredible when we 
got together, the relationship's most rewarding aspect was that we 
were kindered spirits.  We understood where the other was, and 
accepted them without reservation.

When I moved to Chicago to go to law school, nothing really changed 
between us.  He arranged in his job to get to Chicago often.  Our 
relationship continued unchanged.

But I met someone here and fell in love with a relationship that was 
everyday (and every night in each other's arms).  While he professed 
that this would just be another "primary" relationship for me, 
somehow we both knew that this one was different.  

This one was the relationship that my little buddy and I could have 
had if we both had been free.  And the closer I got to Chris, my 
lover, the more my "little buddy" felt out of my life, although I 
didn't want him to feel that way.  You see, to this very day I still 
love him in the same fashion and am deeply concerned about his 
well-being.

I heard from him less and less (much to my sadness) and the last 
time was a few months ago.  He called (after a lack of communication 
of about a month) and indicated he was coming to town and he had to 
see me.

He sounded agitated and I asked him what was up.  He explained that 
after I had started dating Chris, he had decided to find a 
"replacement" relationship like ours to keep his life "pleasant and 
livable".  That hurt a bit, but I understood.  

He said he had met a wonderful man in Texas, and that they had 
become very close.  But the guy in Texas could not be accept the 
same type of relationship as we had had, and decided to out him to 
his wife (who was caring for their three year old and had one "in 
the oven" as they say).  He said his life was crumbling beneath him.

He said we'd talk more when he got here, that he needed to snuggle 
in my arms - but he never called  I think it was because I had 
talked about what was happening with Chris and me (all positive 
after all these years), and perhaps he felt completely abandoned - 
God knows I didn't mean to make him feel that way.  There still is a 
place in my heart for him - old love never dies, it merely changes 
form.  I don't worry about him taking his own life - it's just not 
his way.  But I still do worry about him.

So there you have it Jojo.  A sad, but true tale of a 100% 
homosexual man, who performed all the duties of a heterosexual so he 
could maintain the acceptance of his family.  I make a little prayer 
to God that you live in a community where such things only seem 
bizarre, because they are altogether too common here in the states.