WHEN I CAN’T FIND YOU
this is a story about boys who fall in love. If this is offensive to you, use your back button or go away. All rights reserved.
Hey there guys! This is a revamped version of my original story (originally posted in the High School section of nifty). After getting through a few chapters of my story I realized it definitely belonged in college, and I also decided it could do with some touching up, and this is the product!
This first chapter is short and sweet, just an intro to the story. I will probably add my own ‘thought of the day’ in the beginning of every chapter, but not this one so go ahead and enjoy!
Feedback is always welcome at email@example.com
WHEN I CAN’T FIND YOU: CHAPTER 1
Waking To A New Adventure
It was early morning, 28 November 2002, 4am…
“Jason! Wake up honey are you ready to go we leaving in 15 minutes, here’s your coffee” my mom in a stern yet friendly tone said to me.
All I could bring myself to do was groan. No no wait. Grooooaaaaaan!
She just placed the coffee on my nightstand and left my room. I was dead tired – it took me hours to fall asleep. You know how it goes the night before you leave for vacation – sleep just doesn’t come easy!
To add to that, I’m a terrible morning person. That’s why my mom just left. It is the only way to avoid world war 3. Fortunately I was mildly excited in my ‘anti-morning’ state to have this vacation. It had been years since I’d had a normal family vacation, and never within my ‘new family’ situation.
It had been a tough few years for us and took a long time for my mom and Jannie, my stepfather, to get back on their feet properly.
However we were there, and I slowly dragged myself up and reached for my coffee. It was the only thing that could get me going in the mornings… My mom’s coffee. As I sipped my coffee the realization that I had very little time left began to sink in. I started drinking faster and crawled out of bed.
My clothes were already laid out for me to get dressed in, since most of our luggage had to be loaded into the trailer the night before. I put my boxers in my night sack, and headed into the house to brush my teeth and gel my hair. I was still moody and any visitor could look on with amusement as everyone would veer away from me in the mornings, almost as if an invisible force-field was pushing people out of my way.
The last few years of absolute war have trained them well! I could almost give an evil grin within myself… But I’m too moody to grin right now.
The next couple of minutes I started engaging in
conversation – a sure sign that it is now safe to be around me.
We loaded up our last minute things and
got into the car. The long journey
was about to begin for Oudtshoorn, a very cultural
town in the Karoo, south west of
Okay so hello there! My name is JayJay… Ok not really… It’s just that almost everyone calls me that… or some other ‘J’ variations. My real name is Jason, and as my surname also starts with a J, people just started catching on with the JayJay thing and that trade mark has never left me.
I guess you want to know how I look so you can try to put a face to my name? My hair is a brown-blonde color, kind of like a dirt-blonde, hehe. I am about 1.7 metres (5’7”) weigh 57kg’s (124 lbs). So I’m slightly short and have a slim build – although I kind of like my light body. Though I’m very critical of myself, the physical feature that I do actually love about myself are my legs. They are not muscular or anything, they’re just… right. Girls have complemented me a couple of times on my legs and any compliment is vital to my ego!
My newest compliment for my legs, and just in time for this vacation, is my black pair of board shorts. With a silk white pocket on my leg, and this interesting picture of Einstein on it. It’s an unusual feature and that’s exactly why I like it. I’m far from ‘usual’!
Then there’s my eyes… Before I fascinate myself with my own eyes, I have to let you know… I am extremely mad about eyes! The old saying that says they are the window to one’s soul is so true for me. I have green eyes, which hold a light shade of grey in them, and hazel around my pupils. You need to look closely to see the hazel.
I am one hell of a shy kind of guy, not really outgoing or outspoken without a little ‘alcohol’. Although I am quite liberal and when it comes to a debate (or argument) it’s hard to shut me up. Other than that I am quiet, and I often get asked why I am so quiet. I guess I just like to observe things rather than be the centre of it all. I would say I think a lot and very deeply about things and being quiet helps me process my surroundings.
Girls trust me a lot, since I seem to drag their secrets out of them and help them deal with their problems. I’m quite good at listening and talking to people about their problems, but lack this masterful skill with my own problems almost all the time! People trust me, or so they say. Trust is not easy after people fail you one too many times…
Passionate is a key word to describe me. Reserved is another. I hold back on the surface all the time… but below that surface there is a mind working non-stop, and this constant thinking that happens within me builds a passion for everything I do. Especially people.
My one known school talent is public speaking, and people are often surprised. I’m always so quiet and when people see me step up to the podium they don’t expect what they hear! I’ve surprised many people like this and sometimes it’s a secret weapon. If people always know you to be quiet, the day you finally do speak up, they listen!
My final rambling about myself is linked to my passion about people. I always want to help someone in need. I cannot stop myself, and it’s risky, because I battle to say no. Often I find people taking advantage of my caring nature, and it’s hard to learn how to handle that effectively. But on the other hand, I love reaching out to people and I cannot live with myself if I ignore someone in need and I COULD have made a difference.
All the changes and tough times I’ve endured in my childhood has equipped me with some level of maturity and strength and that is exactly what I need when I work with other people. It enables me to level with anyone.
Enough rambling about myself I can see you’re about to pass out! Fear not as I’m done talking about myself!
We drove a couple of hours with my stepfather’s Afrikaans music coming out of the speakers and I was highly annoyed. Most of the trip I was fiddling with the camcorder filming and zooming and sleeping in between.
Then I saw my mother push eject on the CD player! OMG! I was so happy!!! Finally no more stupid music that makes no sense!
In goes Enrique Iglesias… Not too bad it’s a new CD and the music is quite okay some of it actually nice. Ok. WAS nice. It loses its appeal when the same CD plays over and over 8 times!
They just never bothered taking it out and by the time we reached the guest house in Oudtshoorn I was relieved to be away from that awful music!
We were all pretty worn out, and that night went by swiftly.
The next morning we loaded up our night bags, and headed for the car and into the mountain pass to Sedgefield via George. As George came into view at the foot of the mountain we could see the ocean stretch out ahead of us…
When you’re an inland city boy, or just from the inland in general, every time you get a chance to see that vast mass of water you kind of stop and stare in awe. Then the excitement boils… We’re almost there!
Driving into Sedgefield my mom was scrambling over the little map and we worked our way through the small town to our holiday resort. We were quite close to the beach, with just a street and some houses separating us from the ocean.
Operation offload took off and we scrambled into the chalet. Jamie (my step-brother) and I raced for the bedroom to claim beds and luckily I won the race and scored the window-bed!
It’s a miracle that I actually won the race since Jamie is much fitter than I am. He’s 12 now turning 13 in March and the older he gets the more of a jock he’s turning into! I’m beginning to think he’s going to turn into a real ‘lil hotstuff!
When his dad first met my mom, I HATED Jamie. Mostly because of Jannie I guess. Luckily things started turning around at some point and we’re quite close these days, thankfully!
He’s had a tough life to be honest. He was adopted by Jannie and his first wife at birth, then when he was 3 years old his adoptive mom died. Jannie remarried a woman who had her own son of a similar age and she was a horrible bitch to Jamie. Typical evil stepmother kind of thing. Then his dad met my mom and we all did everything we could to reject him and his dad. He lived with his grandparents until our parents married, and then I made his life hell. I was bigger, older, and had more freedom because of my rebellion-phase.
Now he’s my little brother. Not my step brother anymore. My mom is his mom and he protects her as much as I would. He’s real family and I feel so bad about the history. AAAANYWAY at least things HAVE changed so don’t slap me you evil evil readers!
Bla bla bla yadda yadda yadda we got settled and 2 days went by…
The thing about family vacations… the day of arrival and the day after is fine. But then everyone starts getting on your nerves!
The nice thing about Sedgefield in late November/early December is that it is not really busy yet. So I started taking to my new-found refuge on the beach. The town is separated from the beach by a small dune that runs along the coast. As I walk onto the beach I can walk east towards a rock peninsula and as you go around the peninsula there’s a walkway up the hill with a benches along the way.
Those benches during sunset were truly magical, and I found myself there quite often.
Along this walkway you can veer off and there’s a small trail up to the peninsula itself. It’s like pride rock from The Lion King, with an amazing view over the ocean.
As the days went by I spent many times feeling lonely. Wishing I could spend the time there with someone else. Jamie and I hung out but not that much – he’d befriended the rich man’s daughter who lived in the 3-story mansion across from our chalet. We had a good view of their front yard.
Anyway back to my loneliness *sob sob* I brooded over it a lot. All I could do to beat it was phone my friends every so often and write in my diary. It was then I had my bright idea of creating my own ‘message in a bottle’. I wrote a letter to what I imagined to be someone I might truly love some day, though I had no idea who that may be. I put it in the bottle and considered how I would throw it in deep enough for it to be carried away by the ocean.
It was a stupid idea. There was no practical way I could get that bottle far enough to float far far away, I needed a plan B. The peninsula!
I took the bottle and trudged along the sandy beach to the walkway and up the trail to the top of my little ‘pride rock’. There was like an ‘open’ cave up there and I found a little spot in the ceiling to wedge the bottle in. I wondered who would find it…
I dreamed peacefully of what the future could hold for me, and what it would be like to finally love someone.
It was so hard being gay, because I could not find anyone I liked. Often at night all I could do was lay there dreaming of a nameless, faceless guy.
As the sun set on the ocean, I watched my loneliness creep closer to me for another night. I jolted myself up and headed for the chalet to get supper and avoid being trapped by the incoming tide.
That’s it for Ch.1 folks! Hope you guys enjoyed it. Ch.2 will be along in a couple of days, and also much longer!
Thanks to Tyler Peel (Author of The Road Home) for allowing me to plug my story online, and thanks to Jon my special brother for editing this chapter! You guys rawx!
Finally, thanks to the guys at nifty for this great site!
Feedback welcome at firstname.lastname@example.org