Date: Wed, 2 Jan 2013 02:10:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Kyle Bryson <bryson.kyle@yahoo.com>
Subject: One Step At A Time - 7

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Disclaimer: The following story may contain scenes of unprotected sex.

Always use caution when engaging in ANY sexual activity with a new or
unknown partner. Be honest with yourself... you might not know the other
person as well as you think and a fun fuck just isn't worth the risk.

Thanks for reading and feel free to contact me with your comments at

bryson.kyle@yahoo.com

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

When I woke Monday morning, I decided I needed to talk to someone.  USF has
a Counseling Center for students, so I got the phone number and made an
appointment for tomorrow, Tuesday, at 9:30.  I would print the required
forms later and bring them with me for my appointment.  My core Econ
classes kicked my ass Monday and I decided to spend a couple of hours in
the library studying before heading home.  The books I needed were
different floors, so I put my bookbag on a table on the 5th floor and went
to find the books I needed to review.

After about 15 minutes of searching, I came back to my table to find that
another guy was sitting at the end.  I sat my books down and he looked up.

"Hey, is it ok if I sit here?" he asked.

"Yeah, dude... there's plenty of room," I said.  As long as he was quiet, I
didn't really care.

"Thanks," he replied and went back to studying.  He was wearing a hoodie,
and I couldn't blame him because it can get really cold in here sometimes.
When he put his head down the hoodie was blocking his face, so it gave me
time to look him over.  I was still standing, and could see he had on
workout shorts and flip-flops.  Nice legs, from what I could see, muscular
arms (his sleeves were pushed up) a broad chest and large shoulders.
Hmmm...

After about 45 minutes of poring through books looking for things I could
use for my paper, I needed to stretch my legs and take a leak, so I headed
for the bathroom.  There were 5 urinals and I chose the one 2nd from the
end.  I had just unbuttoned my shorts and was lowering them to get my cock
out when the door opened behind me.  I didn't look toward the door -
because I didn't care - but I did look over when the guy stood one urinal
away from me.  It was the guy from the desk!  He had his hoodie pushed back
and I could see he had a very nice face.  He started getting his dick out
and kept looking my way... finally looking down at my dick.

'What the hell,' I thought and leaned back to he could get a better look.
He did the same, and angled his body toward me so I could see his dick.  I
cautiously looked down... not really thinking and not sure what the
protocol is for this type of illicit cock exposure in the library
bathrooms.  We were both pissing and, though I'd seen countless cocks in
the locker room, it was fascinating to have a guy expose himself to me for
exhibitionism purposes.

I finished pissing and zipped up, heading to the sink to wash my hands.  I
looked back at 'hoodie guy' to see that he was also zipping up.  As he
approached the sinks, he cupped my ass with his hand, dragging his fingers
through my ass crack.  He then ran his hand and fingers across my other ass
cheek before standing at the sink next to me.

"Nice cock," he said, looking at me in the mirror and smiling.

I swallowed hard.  "You too," I said... I mean, what else do you say?  I
finished washing my hands and went back to the table - quickly followed by
'hoodie guy.'

He sat down and looked around.  "If you ever want someone to suck that
monster, just say the word," he whispered.

"Thanks," I said, "but I have a boyfriend."  I just wanted him to shut-up
and couldn't think of a quicker way...

"He's a damn lucky dude," he responded shaking his head and grinning.  We
both went back to studying, but after an hour, I was getting hungry, so I
packed my stuff to leave.  He looked up at me, and kept looking at me, but
I didn't acknowledge him and didn't feel like I had a reason to do so.

I headed for home and decided to call Ryan on the way.  I didn't think
about it, I just did it, but there was no answer.  I left him a message
asking him to call if he had time, but also telling him it was nothing
important.  I started thinking about all the changes over the past couple
of weeks and wondered what I did before all these new experiences in my
life.

Pulling into the driveway, I waved as Marcy drove past... their daughter
strapped into the backseat of the car.  Greg's truck was in his driveway,
so I decided it was time for a conversation.  I waited until Marcy turned
the corner, then walked next door and rang the bell.  Greg's face turned
white when he saw me.

"Hey, Marc... what can I do for you?" Greg asked, his voice's pitch
slightly elevated.

"I figured we should talk," I said calmly, though I wasn't sure if I was
truly calm at that point.

"Yeah... sure... come in," he said, stepping aside and closing the front
door behind me.  "You want something to drink?  Water?  A beer or
something?"

"A beer would be good," I said.  "Whatever you've got."  I was planning to
control this conversation - and the interaction - so I walked through the
french doors at the back of the house and went out to the lanai.  Looking
at their pool was calming, so that was a good thing.

Greg brought the beers outside and took a chair on the other side of the
table.

"Thanks," I said.  He just nodded and started drinking his beer.  I did the
same.

The silence was a little awkward, but I like to keep my opponent
off-balance, and this situation was no different.  I was in HIS house, but
I was in control and he knew it.

"How old are you, Greg?" I asked.

"I'm 30," he said, looking at me.  I was staring at him.

"You're married, but you also like guys, is that right?" I asked.

He turned and looked at the pool.  "Yeah," he answered and took another
drink of his beer.

I didn't know what I wanted to ask next, but it hit me that Brad is a
nice-looking guy.  In great shape, fit and healthy.  "You have a great
life, right?" I asked.  He nodded.  "I mean, a beautiful wife and
daughter... obviously, you've got a great job that pays well... a nice
house... why are you trying to screw it up?"

He looked back at me.  "I'm trying NOT to screw it up, Marc," he said.  "I
haven't been with a guy since college, but I like to look... and it's a
need I have.  It's not something I can just make go away.  Believe me, I've
tried."  He took another drink of his beer.  "My life is great... close to
perfect, even... but...."  He didn't continue.

"A guy at USF took me to Joe's a couple of weeks ago," I said.  "I told him
I was looking to make some money, but didn't have a lot of time to work
around my school and wrestling schedule, so that's where he took me."  I
took a couple of long drinks of my beer, almost finishing it.

"You want another?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

He went to the mini-fridge on the lanai and grabbed two more - twisting the
caps off both and handing me one.

"I've never done anything with a guy, Greg... never even thought about it,
really.  But I know I take good care of myself and Joe's seemed like a fun
job and a good place to make some money.  I just didn't think I'd see
anyone I know and - well, you saw my reaction," I said and smiled.

"Dude, no one knows this about me," Greg started.  "Not Marcy.  Not the
guys on the jobs.  I don't want this to get out about me, either... and I
think I've done a good job of separating this stuff from my real life the
best I know how."

"I don't want to tell anyone about you, Greg," I said.  "We're just going
to need to keep each other's secret and leave it at that, ok?"

"Yeah.  I'm good with that.  Thank you," he said.  He raised his beer
bottle to me and we clinked them at the necks of the beers.

We both seemed to relax at that point and spent the next 30 minutes talking
about life - his job and my school activities - with each of us asking
questions about the other... both of us engaged in the conversation.

"Marcy will be home in a few minutes," he finally said.  "You're welcome to
stay around, but I was supposed to be fixing something in the bathroom
while she got groceries."

"Nah - I'll head out," I said standing.  Greg stood with me, put his hand
out and I shook it.

"Thanks for coming over to talk," Greg said.  "I've been nervous ever since
I saw you at Joe's last weekend."

"We needed to clear the air," I said.  "But we can talk again sometime."  I
walked back into the house and headed for the front door.

"Hey - you like to go camping?" Greg asked me.

I stopped and turned.  "It's been a while, but - yeah - I like to camp.
Why?"

He shrugged.  "Just figured we could hang out sometime... go camping or
something."

"Yeah, maybe," I said, opening the front door.  "Maybe when it cools off,"
I said walking away.

"Ok," he said from behind me.  "Hey, Marc?"

I stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks again," he said.

I waved and started walking again.  "No problem."

As I started into the door of my house I reached into my pocket for my
phone, but it wasn't there.  I went to my car and found it sitting in the
front seat.  Turning it on I saw that I'd missed two calls from Ryan, so I
called him back.

"Hey," he answered.

"Yo," I said, smiling.

"So, you got to time to hang out or something?  Grab some dinner?" Ryan
asked.

"Yeah - I want to get a quick shower, though.  What are you thinking?" I
asked.

"We could go somewhere or you can have dinner here.  I was planning to cook
tonight," Ryan said.

"I'm fine coming over there," I said.  "Give me about 45 minutes."  I
looked at my watch.  "I'll be there around 6."

"That works.  See you then," he said.  We both hung up.

I went inside and went to the fridge to leave my room mates a note.  "Out
for dinner.  - Marc" I wrote, then headed to my bathroom.  Stripping
quickly, I jumped under the cool water spray and washed my body, working my
way from my hair downward.  I wanted to be quick, but also wanted to be
clean, so I paid attention to my cock, balls, asshole, pits and feet.  'A
5-minute shower can get you just as clean as a 30-minute shower,' my dad
used to say and I smiled thinking of that.  'I'd need to see my parents and
brothers soon,' I thought as I dried off.

I grabbed a clean jock-strap, my underwear of choice, threw on black shorts
and a tight green t-shirt, slipped on my black leather sandals, then headed
to Ryan's.  Traffic was surprisingly light, so I pulled into his driveway
at 5:50.  Ryan answered in a towel... his hair and skin wet and dripping.

"Sorry... running a little late," he said as he opened the door.  He
immediately turned and started walking back to his room.  "Make yourself at
home," he said over his shoulder.  "I'll be out in a minute."

I stood in the doorway for a minute... watching him walk away.  Seeing him
in that towel made my heartbeat speed up and I immediately felt the blood
rush to my cock.  I decided to let "little Marc" (my cock) take the lead
this time, so I followed after him.

Pushing his bedroom door open, I said, "Y'know, you've seen my cock, but I
haven't seen yours."  I heard movement from the bathroom, but he didn't
come out.

Silence.

"Ryan?" I asked.

"Huh?" he said, buttoning his shorts as he came out.  Apparently, he hadn't
heard me... and now I felt like an idiot.

"Nothing.  Sorry," I said, turning around and heading to the kitchen.
Beer.  I wanted another beer.  My breathing was still heavy because I'd
just tried to take a step toward... well, a step toward something with Ryan
- and it didn't work.

He joined me in the kitchen within seconds.

"Smells good," I said.  "What did you make?"

"Cajun chicken pasta," he said.  "Do you like shrimp?  'Cause normally I
put shrimp in it, too... I just didn't know if you liked shrimp, but I can
add it while it's still baking," Ryan added.

"Yeah - that would be good," I said.

Ryan moved to the refrigerator and removed a package of shrimp, then
grabbed potholders and removed the pasta from the oven.  He stirred the
shrimp into the mix then put it back in the oven and reset the timer for 25
minutes.  "I have salad, too," he said.  "You want that now or want to wait
until the pasta is done?" he asked me.

"Whatever you want," I said.

"Ok - well, let's have some salad first," he said.  Ryan had everything
ready, so he just needed the bowls and dressing.  I sat at the table with
my beer and let him serve me... and as I watched his ass moving in his
shorts, I thought again of how he would look in an apron and smiled.
"What's funny?" he asked, turning around - catching me with a grin on my
face.

"Nothing," I said.  "Was just thinking about something."

"Everything ok?" he asked, placing our salads on the table and sitting
across from me.

"Yeah... I'm just in a weird mood, I guess," I said.

We ate our salads and talked with me watching him closely and
second-guessing myself the whole time.  Fifteen minutes before the pasta
was ready, he put garlic bread in the oven and now the kitchen really
started to smell good.  Finally, the food was ready and it was time to eat.
I asked if he wanted any help, but he declined saying I was his guest and I
should just sit back and relax.

"This pasta is awesome," I said swallowing my first bite.


"Thanks," he said shoving a forkful into his mouth.

"You're going to make someone a great wife one day," I added, smiling at
him.

"Well, the husband position is wide open," he remarked with a smirk.

I chuckled.  'Yeah... I want to be a husband one day,' I thought, 'but I
don't think I also want a husband.'

The conversation had no lag time and we enjoyed an easy banter back and
forth.  We both had second helpings and as I began to feel full I also
started getting tired.  I was four beers in for the afternoon and knew I
shouldn't be drinking this much on a weekday.  After helping him clean up,
I thanked him and said I would be heading home.

"So, eat and run, huh?" Ryan said with a smile.

"Yeah, sorry... kinda' tired.  I know you wanted me to put-out since you
made dinner and all," I said, winking.

We laughed.  "Nah, I already know you're not THAT easy," he joked as we
walked to the front door.

"Ryan, thanks for having me over tonight."

"You're welcome.  Thanks for coming," he said.

"I'm glad we're getting to be friends," I said.

"Me too."

And with that, I headed home.

<><><><>

I had another fitful night of sleep and was glad I was seeing the counselor
this morning.  I printed the forms I would need and got my clothes ready to
shower after the gym.  Even without a lot of sleep, I was determined not to
miss my workouts.  I know my body will eventually catch-up to my activity
level and then I'll crash.  But until then, I'm still in control of what I
do and would not allow my mind to drag me down.

My appointment with Dr. Gerold Brauch was set for 9:30 and I was told to
arrive at least 15 minutes early.  I entered the offices at 9, checked-in,
then sat in the waiting area.  Within 10 minutes, Dr. Brauch came out to
get me.

"Marc, I'm Gerry Brauch," he said, with a smile, shaking my hand.  "Let's
head to my office."

As with almost every man I meet, I sized him up.  Mid-30's, wedding band,
5'11", 190#... a little soft, but had obviously been much more fit when he
was younger.  When we got to his office he offered me a seat and I chose
the one with my back to the door.  He could sit facing the door with the
window into the hallway... I didn't want the extra distractions.  He took
the forms from me and quickly scanned them, noting my reasons for seeing
him - "stress, fatigue, confusion" - that's what I wrote - then placed the
forms on the desk behind him and grabbed his notepad.

"Marc, everything we discuss is confidential," he started.  "I take very
few notes... mostly just to give me key reminders of things that will help
me help you, ok?"  I nodded and he continued.  "I just want you to know
that there will be nothing in my notes that will harm you in any way, but
they will also be kept in confidence."

"Good to know," I said.  "Thank you."

He nodded.  "So - you said your reasons for being here are 'stress, fatigue
and confusion.'  What are you confused about, Marc?"

I took a deep breath.  "Maybe it's classic college shit - oh, can I say
'shit' in here, Dr. Brauch?" I asked.

"You can say whatever makes you comfortable," he said, "and please call me
'Gerry.'"  He smiled warmly.

"Ok - well, I started this new job a couple of weeks ago.  Basically, it's
like a... I don't know... you know how they have those bikini bars where
women are the servers?"  He nodded.  "Well, it's kinda' like that, except
men - young men, like me - are the servers."

I noticed his face change... an odd smile came into his eyes.  "This is a
place here locally?" he asked.

"Yeah - a little outside of town, but it's off the beaten path," I
answered.  I wasn't going to give away the location to him... ever.

"And you are - what? - a waiter there?  And you wear a bikini?" he asked.

"Actually, I'm naked... and I just wear an apron," I told him.  I had an
embarrassed smile on my face and could feel my face flushing.

"Ok... go on," Gerry said, gesturing with his pen.  His expression was now
blank.  I'm sure he'd heard a lot more salacious things.

"It's only for men... no female customers," I continued, taking a deep
breath, "and I'm not gay, so it's new for me... but the money is good."

"Is there any sex involved?" he asked.

"No.  None.  The owner is VERY strict about that," I stated.

"Ok - good.  So, what has you confused?" Gerry wanted to know.

"I feel like it's changing me... and I don't know if I like what it's doing
to me... and it's stressing me out," I said... my phrases were very choppy.
I was looking at the floor at this point, but realized I wanted to be in
control, so I looked up at him again.

Gerry was looking at the wall... obviously thinking... contemplating his
next words and the course of our conversation.  He asked me a couple of
leading questions and I gave him everything at that point.  Told him how I
found this place through Ryan, about what happened at Ryan's house in the
bathroom. I even told him about Mandy and how the experience at Ryan's kept
coming to mind while I was having sex.  Then I told him about the library
yesterday AND about going to Ryan's last night.

"Am I really changing in some way?" I asked aloud, but really more to
myself.


"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, I wonder with my new job and the stuff that's happened... if it's
somehow making me LOOK different or ACT different.  I mean, I've got guys
hitting on me left and right, it seems... why else would all these guys be
coming on to me now?"  I asked.

"Are you sure it hasn't been happening all along and you've just been
unaware?" Gerry, asked.

That was a possibility, I guess, and I hadn't really considered it.
"Yeah... maybe," I said.

Gerry detailed the difficulty in labeling ourselves as 'gay' or 'straight'
and we talked about how we can stress ourselves by believing we have to fit
into a box that may not work for who we really are.

"What is the possibility of you moving forward with Ryan?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I wanted him to be clearer so I could correctly answer
his question.

"Well, you said you went into his room last night expecting him to be naked
and you were pushing for something.  What would you have done if he had
actually heard you and HAD been naked?  What would you have done?"

I sat back and thought about it.  "I dunno... I could have fucked him," I
said bluntly.

"Ah, but he already told you he doesn't want this to be one-sided.  And,
truthfully, Marc, it's not fair to him since you know that's not what he
wants... is it?"

"No, it's not," I answered.  Now I felt bad.

He read my expression and tone quickly.  "There's no need to be ashamed or
beat yourself up over it, but you need to remember that you'll be messing
with his feelings... and for what reason?  You need to answer that question
for yourself," Gerry said in a very soothing way.

I laughed, uncomfortably.  "I'm a fuckin' horny college guy... we're not
supposed to care about other peoples' feelings!" I exclaimed, half joking.
He laughed.  "I'm only kidding," I continued, "but how do I get out of
this?"

"Get out of what?" Gerry asked.

"I dunno... this mess I'm in," I said.

"Marc... what are you referring to?"

I shrugged.  "Look - I'm confused.  That's what I said... on the paper
there... that's why I'm here.  I'm confused about shit.  How do I get out
of that mess?"  I was starting to get frustrated because I wasn't feeling
any better.

"Take a couple of deep breaths for me and try to calm yourself a little,
ok?" Gerry said.  I nodded and began doing what I knew I should have done
in the first place.  "Do you think your new job is making you feel
confused?"

"Yeah... sorta... I guess," I said, running my hands through my hair.  "I
like it, though.  It's fun and I get to feel..."  I paused and left it
hanging.  He just sat there looking at me... waiting for me to continue,
but I didn't want to keep talking.  I was done.

"What, Marc?  What do you get to feel?" Gerry asked.  I shrugged.  "I think
you have an answer in there somewhere," he said.

"I feel powerful," I said.  "Or like I have a lot of control... and I like
it."

"Ok.  Good."  Gerry answered, folding his hands together and looking deep
in thought again.  "Now, who do you feel like you need to control?"

I paused for a few seconds, but I knew the answer immediately.  I closed my
eyes.  "Men," I said.  "I need to control other men."  I sat there with my
eyes closed because I felt embarrassed to admit it.  I let the silence hang
there... not because I wanted him to start talking, but because I needed a
minute to breathe.  "I know you can still see me," I said smiling.  "I know
that I'm the one hiding because I have my eyes closed, but I'm trying to
process this, ok?"

"It's ok," Gerry said in the calmest, most soothing voice I'd ever heard.
"Marc, you ARE safe here," he said.  "You're safe."  I felt so comfortable
that I opened my eyes.  "Do you know why you feel this way?  Do you
remember what happened?" he asked.

I nodded.  "It wasn't sexual," I said, "but I was bullied a lot growing up.
It was three guys who just had it in for me for some reason - and I was a
lot smaller in junior high.  They were all a year older than me, so when
they went off to high school I got a break for a year... and it helped me
and I grew a lot - physically, I mean.  They tried to start shit again with
me when I got to high school, but I stood-up for myself and they left me
alone... but then my younger brother, Joey, came to the school... they were
in 12th grade, I was 11th and Joey was 10th - and I caught them beating him
up behind the gym one day.  I almost killed them, doc... one guy was in the
hospital with a broken jaw, one got a concussion and the other lost a few
teeth."

"What about Joey?" Gerry asked me.

"He was hurt - black eye, bloody lip - but he was ok," I answered.

"You took on all three guys at once?" he asked.

"Yeah - I was in a rage," I said.  "And I didn't get in trouble, either,
because none of them told."

Gerry sat thinking again - looking away from me - and I kept watching him.
"I'm trying to put the puzzle pieces together, Marc.  Was there any sexual
abuse?" he asked.

"I mean, they called me a 'faggot' and stuff like that, but no one ever
abused me," I answered.  I was done talking for today and just wanted to
leave... but I knew my time wasn't up.  At this point, I didn't care about
getting answers... I just wanted to stop talking while I was still in
control.

"Where is Joey going to school now?" Gerry asked.

I took a deep breath.  I knew this was coming, didn't I?  It had to... it
had to come out and I started breathing hard to fight the tears.  I started
hyperventilating... I could feel it.  My breathing got shallow and I gasped
for air before talking... "Joey's dead," I said, and started sobbing.

My breathing was hitching and catching in my throat so fast that I couldn't
stop myself.  I was crying - crying hard and now I couldn't stop.  I leaned
over to catch my breath, but my knees buckled and I fell to the floor,
crouched over, sobbing and leaking snot onto my arm.  Gerry put a box of
tissues on the floor next to me and I took several, wiping my eyes and
blowing my nose - trying desperately to stop the crying, but I felt like I
couldn't breathe... and I felt like I'd just been hit in the stomach.  I
was sure I was going to throw up.  Instantly, I got a headache and my jaw
hurt and my shoulders hurt.  I wanted to curl up and fall asleep... or just
go away... to crawl into a hole somewhere.  I couldn't stop crying and I
heard myself saying Joey's name over and over as I sobbed.  I'd never done
that before.  Even at the funeral I was strong... I stayed strong for my
brothers and my family, but now I couldn't control it.  I couldn't hold
 it in any longer and I felt like I couldn't move.

I lost track of time and didn't care... laying on the floor, crying, wiping
my nose on my sleeve and trying to catch my breath and calm myself.  I
didn't want to move, but I knew I needed to get back to the chair
eventually.  Finally, I calmed myself and was able to breathe again, so I
eased myself up and collapsed back against the chair - finally meeting
Gerry's eyes... and I noticed he had been crying, too.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"For what?" he asked, grabbing a tissue from the box on the floor.

I shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"I will if I can," I said with a half-smile.

"I have three brothers - two younger than Joey, so I'm the oldest - but he
and I were so close because we were only 11 months apart," I said,
sniffling.  I blew my nose, got up to throw the tissues away then sat back
down and closed my eyes.  "Let's see if I can get this out quickly," I
said.  I took a deep breath and started.  "Joey was gay.  Came out in
junior high and that's why the guys were beating him up."  I opened my
eyes.  "I loved my brother, doc... I did, and I would do anything for him
and for my other brothers."  I was crying again, but I could still talk.
"He had gone out on a date... with another boy from school.  They went to
the movies and were holding hands and some guys started picking on them
after the movie was over.  He and Taylor, the other boy, got in their car,
but these other boys followed them... chased them and Joey lost control,
wrecked his car and it killed him.  Taylor didn't have a scratch on him,
but Joey
 died instantly."

Gerry had tears in his eyes again, and I was now thoroughly exhausted.  He
didn't seem to have anything to say, so I went on.

"I guess maybe all this has reminded me of him subconsciously?" I shrugged.
"Ryan looks so much like Taylor - ohmygod, I'd never thought of that
before, but he does.  And Taylor is such a nice guy, doc... and he was so
hurt when that happened to Joey.  He didn't deserve that either.  Ohgod,
doc... I haven't called Taylor in over a year.  I feel so bad."

Gerry blew his nose and grabbed another tissue.  "Marc, you're a lot
stronger than you're giving yourself credit for... and I think you can
channel the feelings you're having into some positive things.  Things that
will help you AND will help your brother's memory."

"Yeah, I can," I said.  "Like what things?"  I asked.

"Off the top of my head, I can think of several things you can do.  There's
the Gay-Lesbian student organization.  Maybe you can volunteer to help stop
harassment of gay students.  Maybe you can help with campus security in
some way... making sure gay students feel safe when they need to go places.
You're a big guy and can help them feel safe... it sounds like you have
turned some of your anger AGAINST gay students, but they're not to blame
for Joey's death, Marc."

"I know, I know... and it wasn't his fault either," I said.  "I just miss
him so much, Gerry.  It's been three years and it's like it just happened
today.  Ohgod, I miss Joey.  I miss my little brother."

"Did you ever get any counseling after the accident?" Gerry asked me.

I shook my head.  "No.  The rest of the family went, but I wouldn't go... I
just pushed all that rage into wrestling and singing," I said.  "It's
funny... two totally different things, but they are who I am." I shrugged.

I knew our time was getting close to being over, but I wasn't sure I'd
accomplished much.  We made another appointment - "same time next week,"
Gerry said, then added, "I think you've got some things to unravel before
next week."

"Yeah, I do," I said.  I thanked him for his time and shook his hand as I
left, knowing we both had remnants of snot on our hands.  I smiled about it
as I walked away.

<><><><>

I went directly to my choral class and got there about 10 minutes early,
despite my appointment running over.  A huge weight had been lifted off of
me, but I still felt like I needed some direction and still felt exhausted.
I grabbed the sheet music from my locker, headed into the rehearsal room
and saw Ryan across the way.  He saw me and smiled and I walked to him.

"Hey," he said, "are you ok?"  He looked worried and I'm sure I looked like
shit.

I smiled.  "Yeah.  I'll be ok."  He put his hand out and squeezed my
shoulder.  "Can we talk later?" I asked.

"Yeah - when?" he asked.

"What are you doing right after class?" I asked him.

"I'm supposed to work with Dr. Sumner, but I don't think he had anything
important for me to do.  You wanna' hang after this?" he asked.

"Yeah, if that's ok with you," I said.

"Yeah, that's fine.  Let's catch-up after class and make a plan," Ryan
said, as Dr. Sumner walked in.

"Ok," I said and smiled at him.  I walked over to my seat and got ready for
rehearsal... and suddenly, I was not so irritated with the gay guys in the
room.

<><><><>


Thank you for writing.  I DO return all emails, so please feel free to drop
me a note.  In addition, if you'd like to read some of my other stories,
the links are below:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/yard-work/

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/one-step-at-a-time/