Date: Mon, 03 Mar 2008 20:19:02 +0100
From: philippe1976@gmx.net
Subject: Philippe - my story

Philippe - my story

(This is a text I wrote in 1995, when I hadn't come out yet.)

	It was on the stairs when I began to know it. On the way to flute
practice in elementary school. I don't know what it was that made me
realize - maybe a hard-on, maybe a thought - but since then I know
something about me.

	The next strong memory that comes to my mind every once in a while
is about the time when I was in Junior High. I was a very introverted boy
with most of my mind on detective books and pretending games I was able to
play by myself in my room at home. In school I therefore belonged to the
group of semi-accepted weirdoes, half protected by pity, half laughed at
and abandoned quickly when not interested in anymore. There was a new kid
going to the same class and he accepted me as a friend. He was blonde, had
blue eyes, but was just a bit to well fed, his hair was a bit too curled,
his lips were a bit too thick, he had a bit too many moles and he blinked,
so I never gave him a second look. Once we agreed to study for a test
together. So I went to his house, followed him to his room in the basement
and we started studying. I don't know why but he suddenly started rubbing
my crotch. It probably started out jokingly. I didn't tell him to stop, no,
in fact I leaned back and started rubbing his too, we even got to the point
where we caressed each other's chests. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed,
when he stopped and with me still rubbing him made it look like I was the
one that started it. I felt stupid. We did it again a couple of times, but
it eventually died off. I know that this is supposed to be pretty normal in
puberty, but for me it was more. I was more attracted to another boy, who
was perfect; he had a protective feeling for me. I always tried to be alone
with him so I could start something like the other guy did with me, but
when, on a stupid occasion, I managed to get him into my room, I didn't
have the courage to start it, so we read a MAD together and was feeling
like the stupidest jerk on earth.

	Later, we moved a couple of blocks and on my way home from school,
through a girl I knew, I got to know the most handsome boy in the world at
that time, who actually was her cousin and 14. He had golden curls, bright
blue eyes, the whitest teeth and a fable for neon colors and wristbands. He
was an angel. We talked for hours while pushing our bikes up the hill after
school. Many times I could have lead him into the nearby forest and make
love to him, but instead I drew pictures of him, wrote poems about him and
most nights I went to sleep thinking about him. I was in love, big time.
Then, for some time, I lost sight of him and when I accidentally saw him
again somewhere, all the infatuation was gone.

	By now I knew a whole bunch of boys I would have done a lot for,
but I never, never had the courage. In fact this whole thing never got
beyond my room where kept track of everything those boys were doing, when I
got really lucky I could manage to take a picture of them on some
appropriate occasion which I afterwards hid in a box in my room.

There was one time in high school when I got close to lose control and I
damn myself even today for not losing it. It happened in a climbing camp
that I took part in with a boy I liked. One evening when we went to bed,
this boy laid down beside me on his sleeping bag with only his shorts
on. We talked in the dark and I could feel his naked shoulder touching mine
and I watched his naked chest in the moonlight moving up and down when he
was breathing. I think I couldn't sleep the whole night. I couldn't do
anything, there were so many fears in my mind of being refused, being
rejected, laughed at, being hated. I feared that all of my friends would
look at me a different way, even not look at me at all.

So to this day I hide it in my room, fearing even my parents going through
my stuff and finding something. There is just one person that knows or
doubts about this: one of my friends that I lent a computer disc to, on
which were all my notes about the boys I liked. He accidentally opened this
file and later asked me about this. He asked me if I wanted to talk about
it or if he should just forget all about it. I told him to do the latter.
Unfortunately he wasn't even one of those that I liked to which I probably
would have confessed everything in order to get something started.

	After my second year in high school I went to the U.S. for a year,
which was a fascinating experience also because I realized that there lived
the most beautiful boys I've ever seen. Back home I had a long relationship
with a girl who was four years younger than me. I enjoyed having sex with
her and it was an interesting relationship, but my craving for boys was
still there and it got stronger probably because I never had one. So to
this day I'm a "virgin" and in spite of me knowing about the places where I
wouldn't be alone with my feelings, I didn't have the guts yet to go there,
hell knows why.

This is my story: the tragedy of a shy sphincter boy.