Date: Thu, 09 Oct 2008 11:21:35 -0400
From: montrealormolu@aol.com
Subject: The Glance, chapter 10

The Glance -- Chapter 10

John woke up slowly. It was darker outside, the light filtered in through
the windows shaded with the colors of sunset; reds, purples, oranges,dark
blues, all chased dark cloud shapes outside his windows. What was he doing
in bed? He didn't remember going to bed. He became aware of a body nestled
up to his, a warm furry fuzziness against his back, following his spine all
the way down, legs entwined with his. There was an arm around his chest,
holding him firmly. It felt so comforting. A musky odor floated up into his
consciousness. It was Chuck. Suddenly it all came flooding back -- the
mirror, the overwhelming emotions, and then nothing, just darkness. What
had happened? He stirred, just a little, and knew, somehow, that Chuck was
awake.

"I'm here, sweetheart. It's OK."

Chuck began stroking his chest, long, slow movements which flowed from
chest to crotch and back, again and again. John felt his breathing
deepening, slowing, felt himself beginning to stir. He turned over to face
Chuck in the bed, reaching for him. He clutched Chuck, trying to melt into
his warmth, his safety, nestling his face into that warm chest fur, cupping
Chuck's strong butt cheeks with his hand, pulling him closer. As Chuck
continued to stroke him, nuzzling his neck, head, kissing him gently, he
felt himself beginning to relax, to melt into the safety of those strong
arms.

"Oh Chuck. It was awful. All those years...," his voice trailed off into a
heavy silence.

"It's OK. I'm here."

The silence stretched on. Finally, John sighed, a huge, heavy sigh, filled
with years of sadness and regret. It was as if he was letting go of a heavy
weight he had been carrying for so long that he didn't even know it was
there. Chuck's arms curled protectively around him helped him to feel safe
and he could begin to reflect back on his life without fear. He was enough
of a therapist himself to know how important it was to face the past.

"It's been so long," John began. "I didn't even realize how much I had
hidden -- from others -- and from myself as well. I knew God was calling me
to ministry way back, probably about the same time that I knew I was gay."
He laughed a bit. "How astonishing that the two biggest forces in my life
should come to the surface at the same time! I felt drawn to God so
strongly. I wanted to serve God, to be with God, to feel God filling my
life and soul. Everywhere I looked, I could see the hand of God around me
-- in people, in beauty, in nature, in art, in everything. God was, and I
wanted to be with God. At the same time, I saw beauty in boys, in men. I
wanted to be with them, too. I loved the muscles, the smoothness. I loved
the strength. I loved men's minds, what they could talk about and men's
souls, what little I could understand about that. I loved men.

And I didn't know what to do with both those things. God seemed to inhabit
the Church, so I thought I needed, I wanted, to become a priest and serve
God in the Church. Even though I could see God everywhere, the Church
seemed to be the best place to find God. And I wanted friends, male
friends, special friends. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I knew that's
what I wanted."

John fell silent for a while, Chuck's hands soothing him, giving him
comfort as he worked to bring up old memories and face them.

"We're so screwed up about sex and relationships. The other guys at school
talked about girls. Somehow, I just knew I couldn't talk with them about
boys. But there was no one else to talk with. It was clear at the church
that I couldn't talk there." He snorted, "I couldn't talk about straight
sex much less gay sex. So, I began to hide. I could talk about God, a
little. But that's not really something boys talk about with each
other. `What do you want to do when you grow up? Oh, I want to be a
priest.' No, that's not something we talk about, so I began to hide that,
too. So there I am, in my teens, with both these strong drives going on and
I felt I had to hide -- hide from everyone. No one wanted to know the real
me."

"You know, going off to college was a relief. I was away from home, and no
one knew me. I could begin to look at things, to experiment. It wasn't so
bad being gay at college. There were lots of other guys there, too, just
like me, trying to figure things out. We could get together and give each
other support. There were older guys there, too, some professors, some grad
students, and they could guide us a bit." He laughed, remembering,
"Sometimes they wanted to guide us a bit too personally, but that was kind
of fun, too. At least it was someone to talk with, and that was good. I
could get involved in things, learn a bit about how to be a gay man."

"But, while that part was getting easier, it still wasn't easy to talk
about God. Most of the gay guys had given up on the Church, and God. The
older grad students and even professors were pretty bitter about it. And
the religious students were even worse! Maybe I was just unlucky, but the
guys who identified as religious were all pretty conservative. God forbid,
literally, that I talk about being gay with those guys. They would have
tried to pray it out of me."

"So there I was, trying to put two parts of me together, and having to hide
one part from the other. It was pretty awful."

John sighed, unaware that tears were running down his cheeks again. He fell
silent, lost in his memories and pain. Chuck continued to hold him, trying
to give John some of his own strength, hoping that it would somehow pass
through his arms into John by some sort of psychic osmosis. He knew from
his own experience some of the pain that John was remembering, but it had
never been this bad. He had not had this incredible struggle between the
two halves of his own soul. He could feel just how awful this had been for
John, and perhaps still was.

"Somewhere along the line, I made the choice to be a priest. It felt as if
I were giving something up, as if I were denying a really fundamental and
important part of myself. But I just didn't see what else I could
do. Whichever way I went, I was going to give up part of myself. If I was
going to be a priest, then I needed to give up being gay. If I was going to
be gay, then I needed to give up being a priest. I agonized over that for a
long time, for years, and then I chose."

"Going to seminary turned out to be tough, too. Seems I wasn't the only gay
wannabe priest in the seminary. And all of us were struggling with the same
sorts of issues. So where did we turn for comfort? Each other."

He laughed again, and looked up at Chuck with a smile, "Don't let anyone
ever try to tell you that there's no sex in seminary. Put a bunch of randy
guys in their 20's together and you get sex. The straight guys got
girlfriends, and if they were too guilty about it, they got married. The
gay guys got each other, or went out to the bars together. There was sex,
and guilt, and sex and guilt...oh,it was a great time." He said
sarcastically.

"But then you get ordained and you go out to your first parish. And you
learn how to hide even more. You've got to behave, and if you don't you
better make sure you don't ever get caught. You've got to watch yourself
with the parishioners. God forbid you get involved with a parishioner,
'cause remember, you're only in your 20's at that point and the younger
guys are still your peers. That'll get you thrown out faster than
lightning. So you hide, and hide and hide. And it begins to corrode your
soul like acid. And you go on like that."

He fell silent again. Chuck held him close, "You sound pretty angry and
bitter about that."

"Yep. I am."

"What happened today?"

"I looked at myself in the mirror, and I saw myself again for the first
time. And I didn't like the picture I saw. I caught myself subconsciously
putting on a mask in order to go out. Do you remember the movie The
Birdcage, that scene with Robin Williams and his boyfriend where he tells
him to try and walk like John Wayne?"

"Yes."

"Well, there I was, living it out in my own house looking into the mirror,
trying to walk like John Wayne in order to pass. And I hated it. I just
fuckin' hated it. I can't live like this anymore and I don't know what to
do. And it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes, your fault. If I didn't feel about you the way I do, if I didn't have
to see myself reflected in your eyes, then maybe I could go on hiding. But
I can't."

Chuck reached down and kissed him on the lips, John reaching up eagerly,
hungrily for his mouth. It deepened into a soul-wrenching kiss, one that
spoke of the depths of their relationship, that hinted at what was to come.

"John, I love you. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I love you. I
think about you when I'm not here and I want to call you and laugh with you
and joke with you, and make love with you."

"I know, Chuck. That's what brought this all to a head today. I love you,
too, and I can't keep living like this, in hiding. I don't want to live
like this. And I don't know what to do."

They clung to each other, and slowly that changed until they were making
slow, sweet love, sealing their words with a kiss, with many kisses, and
drawing strength from each other as they set out into the unknown.