A first-hand account of the fallout from one drunken summer night in July 2005.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Intervention

Well, my weekend was insane. Like, I don't mean good parties, drunk for two days, I mean literally INSANE. There was absolutely NOTHING to do Friday night - I worked an hour later, went home, and sat in front of the TV until I went to bed at 11. BOO!! All of my friends were either sick or broke, Brad was working, it sucked. Saturday wasn't so boring, but by the time all was said and done, I wished it could have been as dull as Friday.

After wondering all morning about what to do that night, I finally decided that since I'm going to Connecticut this weekend, I should try to save some money. Then I thought of the camp. I could go to the camp, relax, and spend very little money. Then a wonderful thought occured to me. I would ask Brad to come to the camp also ;) So I called him, and found out that he was supposed to work that night, but had already called in sick. I told him I was going to the cabin, alone, and that he was more than welcome to come. He said sure, that he was going on a snowmobile ride for the afternoon but when he got back fom that, he'd come right out. I asked what time I should expect him, and he said not late, probably between 7 and 8.

So I went out to the camp around 4 that afternoon, and got the power hooked up, and the fire built. Expecting all that to consume the better part of an hour, I was amazed that I had accomplished all of that in less than 10 minutes. So there I stood, on the porch that's built out over the side-hill, and stared at the brook and the trees beyond it. I was bored already. Here I was, alone, and Brad wouldn't be here for another 3 or 4 hours. What to do, what to do. Long story short, I occupied myself by doing small mundane tasks.

7 o'clock came and went. 8 o'clock also passed. Still no Brad. I wondered why he hadn't called. I checked my cell for voicemail, then realized that it was shut off. So I turned it on, and called his cell. No answer. I didn't think much of it, if he was on his way here, he'd never hear his cell ringing over the sound of his snowmobile. But at 9:30 when he still wasn't there, I kinda worried a little. I knew that he would be drinking, and he'd been too lucky lately drinking and driving. So by 10:15 when he still wasn't there, hadn't called, and I couldn't get an answer from his phone, I called Bitch. I really didn't want to, and wouldn't dream of telling her where I was calling from, but I just had this awful feeling like something bad had happened. And it had.

As soon as she picked up the phone, all I could hear was this loud sobbing. I could barely understand her, but I managed to pick out "...couldn't find you anywhere...you need to come out here...gone crazy" and the second I heard "gone crazy" my heart jumped into my throat. I hung up the phone and ran to the car. I drove so fast out of the camp road, had to stop and unlock the gate to get through, and the lock was frozen. I fucked around with that for at least 5 minutes, when it finally popped. Brad lived only about 10 minutes from there, and I think I may have made it out there in less than five. I ran inside, and it was totally quiet. I walked through the kitchen, and right before I walked into the living room, I heard Brad crying, and he said "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry". I walked quietly through the living room and down the hallway towards the bathroom. When I walked past the gun cabinet in the hallway, I noticed one of the glass doors had been smashed. A gun was missing. The bathroom door was closed, and all I could hear was Brad crying and saying he was sorry. I could hear nothing else. My adrenaline was off the charts as I reached for the doorknob, and just like in the movies, right before I opened the door, expecting to see Bitch laying in a pool of her own blood, I heard her say "Oh Jesus, it's just a scratch. Calm down." I stopped. Then I almost laughed at myself for thinking Brad had murdered Bitch. Then I got mad, wondering what in the hell was going on. I threw the door open, both of them screamed, and there they stood, Bitch's arm covered in blood, Brad sitting on the bathtub holding a shotgun. I just lifted my hands up, as if to say "What the fuck, guys???" Brad looked like hell. Bitch looked at me, then at him holding the gun. She was cleaning her arm off in the sink, and she turned back to me. I must have had this look of rage in my eyes, because she went "Oh, no no no, it was an accident. Brad, it's okay babe, it's just an accident." Brad couldn't stop sobbing, and Bitch looked at me and said "You need to stay here with him. I have to go to the hospital to get this looked at." I just nodded, still not sure what was going on. She walked out, and before I followed, I turned and looked at the gun. There was a trigger lock on it. Bitch must have read my mind, because she said "I have the key to the lock right here." So I followed her out to the front door.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I asked her
"He came home drunk, of course, and was in a rage over something. He's down on himself because he feels like a failure, and he said there was only one thing to do about it. He went to the gun cabinet, and when he took the gun out, the butt hit the glass and broke it. He went in the bathroom, and when I went in after him, I didn't know the gun had a lock on it, and I grabbed the end of the barrel. I forgot about the sight on the end, and when Brad pulled the gun out of my hand, the sight cut me. It was an accident. But I need to go to the hospital and get it looked at. PLEASE stay here with him, try to talk to him."

I said okay, and she left. I couldn't stop shaking, and I walked back in the bathroom. He was still sitting exactly how he was when I left him, and as soon as I sat down beside him, he handed me the gun. I took it and put it back in the case. I went back to him. I sat down beside him again, and before I could say anything, he totally collapsed onto me, and he was crying so hard. I just hugged him, still not completely sure as to what was going on. He calmed down a bit after 5 or 10 minutes, and I picked him up.

"What's wrong, man? You know you can tell me anything. What happened?"

He took a deep breath, and said "I hope you've got some time, you're the only one here to listen to me. First of all, I'm an alcoholic..." and then he started crying again. I just let him go. On some level, we've all known Brad has a drinking problem, but no one could say it but him. And he finally said it. He cried for another 5 minutes or so, and then said he needed a cigarette. So we went to smoke, and after he'd inhaled 2 cigarettes, he seemed to be very calm. We went back inside, and he sat me down, and then sat himself across from me. He explained everything, how he was an alcoholic, and how he'd realized it a few months ago, but then got so depressed over it, he tried to drink that away. Then it was how he and his father had a shitty relationship, and he felt bad about doing something terrible to his grandparents when he was 14, and even though they'd forgiven him, he never felt like he'd made it up to them before they both died last year. He felt bad because his brother is so successful and Brad hasn't really accomplished anything since high school, which isn't true, but he's constantly comparing himself to his brother. Then it was how most of his problems stemmed from Bitch, but she was really the only person who could keep him grounded too, so he felt screwed there. Then we started whatever it is we started, and he had all these new feelings for me he never had before, and this piled on top of everything else just gave him so much to think about, and once again, he turned to alcohol. Then tonight, he was sick of dealing with everything and figured the easiest thing to do for everyone was just kill himself. He just said everything that was on his mind, which is what I've been trying to get him to do for so long, and you could see the relief in his eyes, the more he told me. We must have sat there for over an hour. Then he took me out to the garage where he keeps his snowmobile. I walked in, and it had been wrecked. He had done that on his way to the camp, and when he flew off, he dazed himself, and the only way he could remember to go was home. It wasn't a bad wreck, but you could tell he'd hit something. We went back inside, and together we dumped all of his beer out. He handed me the key to his snowmobile, and said "You need to keep that thing away from me for awhile. I need a major lifestyle change." He started panicking when he saw the broken glass and the blood all over the place, but I told him to lie down on the couch; I'd clean everything up. I did, and by the time I was done, he had come down the hall to see how I was doing. I told him I had finished, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck. I turned around, and he kissed me again, on the lips. When he pulled back, he said "Thanks. I've got a long ways to go yet, and I need you and (Bitch) both behind me."

I nodded, and told him that everything he needed to do, he had to do himself. No one was going to carry him anywhere. But, speaking for myself only, I would be right behind him the entire time, supporting him. By that time, Bitch had come back, with 7 stitches in her hand. Brad still looked like shit, and he said he needed to go to bed, and would we come and sit with him. We both said yes, and after he got in bed, he started crying again. She laid down beside him, but he still kept weeping. She waved her hand at me, and pointed to the bed. I got up, and walked over to her.
"Lay down beside him. He might go to sleep then." So I crawled over top of both of them, and laid down beside him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him so bad, but I knew I couldn't. I stayed on my back, Brad was on his side, facing away from me. I pushed myself up against him, and within 2 minutes, he had drifted off to sleep. I lay awake for at least an hour, and I could tell by her beathing that she was still awake too. Neither of us said anything to each other. When I woke up the next morning, someone, most likely her, had thrown a blanket over all of us, and they were still both sound asleep. If I had tried to get out of bed, I would've woken both of them up, and when I looked at my watch, I saw it was only 7:30. So I laid back down. Brad had turned in the night, and was facing me. She was on her back with both of her hands up on her chest. When I laid back down, I turned to look at Brad, and I saw his eyes open. He gave me a small smile, and mouthed the word "Mornin'". I smiled back, and whispered "Mornin'" back to him. Then he mouthed "Thank you" to me, and I whispered "You're welcome". He asked what time it was, and he rolled his eyes when I told him it was only 7:30. He closed his eyes again, as did I. Then I felt his hand touch mine. His fingers opened, and he took ahold of my hand. He pulled it in close to him, down by his stomach. I thought for a minute that he was trying something, with her right beside us both, but he wasn't. He just held my hand there. I whispered "It's gonna be alright. We're all here for you" and then I listened to him breathe until I drifted off to sleep again.

Sunday was rough. Brad's parents came home from a weekend outing, not knowing anything that had gone on. His dad flew off the handle, of course, when he saw the gun cabinet smashed, and it took us all to explain what had happened, and what was going to happen. It was an all-day ordeal. Her mother kicked Bitch out, in a weird way. She told her that it was for her own good, it wasn't anything against her. She could do so much better. Knowing that they were probably going to kick me out next, I gathered up every ounce of nerve I could find. Brad's father is intimidating enough, but his mother doesn't take any shit off anyone, either. Sure enough, after his dad yelled some more, they walked towards me. His mom said "I think it's a good idea that maybe you leave too. And since you're probably the biggest 'drinkin' buddy' he has, maybe you should stay away for awhile." My face felt like it was on fire. I stood up, looked her square in the eye, and said "I am a drinking buddy by choice. More importantly, I'm a friend. I don't need to drink to be around him. I grew up next to Brad and I'll be Goddamned if anyone is going to tell me that I can't see him through this." and with that, I left. I drove around all afternoon, didn't answer my cell phone. Around 7 Sunday night, I checked my voicemail. 3 were from Brad, the last one saying that he was going to work, to call him there. I did, and he said after I left, his father told his mother that I was right. They had a long conversation, talked everything over, and Brad calling a rehab centre today. He apoligized for Saturday night; I apoligized for yelling at his mom, we laughed, and then he started to cry again. I told him that everything I said was true, we were all supporting him. I said how proud I was of him that he could admit this himself, and not to worry, everything was going to be fine. He calmed down again, and I let him go. I drove back to his house, walked in and apoligized to his mom. We talked for awhile, discovering that we were in fact on the same page. I left there, and went home, and went to bed. I slept better last night knowing that things were going to change for the better.

So that was my weekend. My best friend is an alcoholic. He's going into rehab. This week. Quite possibly today. But he's going to be a better person, who won't try to hurt himself anymore, and I had never realized what was going on completely until I saw that gun in his hand Saturday night. I also realized that if I'm going to be there for him every step of the way, my lifestyle has to change too. To me, that's a small price to pay in order to see someone I love more than almost anyone else, happy with himself.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Confirmation

Well, last night I finally got to see Brokeback Mountain. I had read the story a few times before, so I knew what goes on. However, movies always go into greater detail with things, and are generally understood better (by me, anyways) when one can physically "see" what's going on.

Surely, by now you all know that I believe that there is an uncanny resemblance to this story and what is going on with me and Brad. Seeing this movie only further confirmed this theory. That being said, I will now compare the two, to show y'all just how much there is in common. It's borderline-creepy:

-> From the start, you can tell Jack is clearly attracted to Ennis, by the way he positions himself alongside the truck while they wait for Joe Aguirre. I have always been attracted to Brad, while (as far as I know) he never knew until I told him. I've always said that of the two, I'm definitely the "Jack". I'm more open to what's going on, while Brad fits Ennis to a T. He's hesitant, unsure, reluctant, but always gives in.

-> The first few scenes of the guys at main camp are great. There is half-hearted flirting on Jack's part, as he tries to get Ennis to open up more. The first time Brad and I took off to my cabin (before anything had happened between us), was basically the same. We sat there for hours by the fire, drinking, talking, laughing, and I wanted him sooo bad that night, but couldn't get up the courage to say or do anything. Even after we took a midnight skinny-dip in the brook, and sat by the fire afterwards wearing nothing but small towels, I still couldn't gather the courage to be honest with him. Brad has since asked me why I never tried anything that night; had I, he would have been receptive since he had the same feelings as me. *frusterated sigh*

-> The tent scene. For the record, Ennis was a little rough for it being a first time. Poor Jack. That was kinda similar, but not enough to be significant. Jack is clearly the instigator here. He grabs Ennis' hand, and wraps it around himself. Then when Ennis realizes what's going on, he pulls away for a split second, then caves. The night I told Brad that I was bisexual, I said nothing about being attracted to him. Then when he told me he was bi too, I knew something was going to happen. I thought it, and he said it: Even though it may wreck our friendship, you know damn well it's going to happen sooner or later, so it might as well be now. He kinda made it sound like it was something that we had to do, just because we were both into guys. After I got frusterated enough with him, I stood up, knocking the chair over, whipped around the table, grabbed his head probably a bit too hard, and kissed him. I never gave him a choice. I held onto his head so tight he couldn't have pulled away if he wanted to. But he didn't. When I felt his tongue in my mouth, I knew that we'd crossed the threshold, and things would never be the same. When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at him. My heart was beyond racing, I don't know how I was even still standing up. He was smiling up at me, with this look of pure excitement in his eyes. "Wow" he whispered. "There's one hell of an ice-breaker."

-> Naturally, Brad and I had the same awkward stage where I couldn't be around him enough and he didn't want to be around me at all, which damn near resulted in us beating the shit out of each other. This was the week after "the first time", but before I realized I was falling in love with him. I knew things would be awkward, but in my opinion, you have to confront the problem head on, and get it out of the way. Brad thinks the opposite: that if you ignore something long enough it will go away. Jack and Ennis, luckily, had to be away from each other, as per their respective jobs, but it was painfully obvious that they missed each other.

-> At the end of the summer, when the boys had to go their seperate ways, it damn near killed them. Ennis was sick to his stomach, Jack couldn't stop crying. When Brad told me he was moving across the country, I couldn't shake the pit in my stomach. I couldn't stand to look at him, but at the same time I wanted him to be with me as much as possible before he left. (He still hasn't left, and he talks about it less and less, and more about staying here; making plans for summer, etc.)

-> Ennis tells Jack that he and Alma are getting married the following November. Jack has no one, and wants Ennis to himself. Brad is with Bitch, and as bad as they treat each other, they love each other a lot. They will get married someday, I realize that. It won't last, mind you, but ah well. Basically, no matter how bad Ennis wants to be with Jack, he knows his place is with Alma. A la Brad and Bitch.

-> Jack wants the two of them to go away, and be together. Well, as of right now, I would accept that, gladly. Ennis is reluctant; he believes his place is with his family, not because he wants to, but because he has to. He has accepted his fate, he'll never be anything other than a ranch hand, no matter how miserable he may be. I believe that you make your own destiny. Brad on the other hand believes that you're stuck with the cards you're dealt.

-> Here's a short & simple one: They have their own special place where they go to be with each other, away from prying eyes: Brokeback Mountain. Brad and I have my cabin. With a lockable iron gate at the mouth of the road. 'Nuff said.

-> Ennis' wife, Alma, suspects something from nearly the start. The weirdest look comes over her face when she and Ennis are gettin' down, and he flips her over onto her stomach. It's funny. Brad's girlfriend, Bitch, has always suspected something. The first night we slept together, I awoke the next morning naked, alongside a naked Brad. For whatever reason, I got up to get a glass of water. While I'm standing at the sink, Bitch's car pulls in the driveway. So I quickly made it look as if I had slept on the couch, but when she went in to wake Brad up, she found him naked, with his clothes (along with an article or two of mine) strewn all over the room. It was obvious that Brad hadn't just gone to bed, undressed, and laid down. Plus, it was at a friends' house that I was watching for the weekend, so it looked weird that I had slept on the couch and Brad had gotten the master bedroom. And just like Alma, she confronts Ennis about it (eventually) but is always very civil to Jack (on the few occasions she meets him). Bitch makes remarks to Brad constantly about his "boyfriend" (me) but is always pleasant to me to my face. If only I could see her as little as Jack sees Alma...

-> Jack & Ennis are constantly paranoid about people finding out about them, for fear of their own safety; others opinions, and general disapproval of homosexuality moreso back in the 60's & 70's, than today. However, Brad and I have both gone through periods of thinking everyone knows about us. We've since talked about that, realized that no one has actual proof, and until they do, "it's all a viscous rumour".

-> Because of the risk involved, the boys cannot be together all the time. they cannot plan their trips out, they need to be totally spontaneous, resulting in them only hooking up every few months or so. Much the same with us. If we snuck off too often, people would get very suspicious, and it wouldn't take long before someone catches us in the act. So we have to control ourselves until neither of us can take it anymore (which makes for a GOOOOOD time when the time comes). This is funny because Brad once said that us running off at 3 in the morning, driving to the cabin in the woods, ripping each others' clothes off, and just fucking each others brains out was a lot more fun than knowing you're going to bed at home, and have so-so sex with whoever (no shit!)

-> In the movie, Jack freaks out on Ennis, and says "You might be okay with all this, but I can't get by on a coupla' high altitude fucks every few months" Which I have told Brad before. My exact words were (keep in mind I said this to him long before this movie ever came out): "If you only want to fuck me when you're drunk, and even then every 6 months or so, that's fine for you. But I'm not your little whore you can call whenever you want your dick sucked. I want it all the time, and you're not the only guy I can get it from". The look on his face when he realized that this wasn't all because of him. (Brad can be a little conceited sometimes)

-> The final point, is whenever they are apart for any period of time, they are so overjoyed when they finally do see each other. Brad and I spend a lot of time together, and sometimes, like any friendship, we get sick of each other. But if even 4 or 5 days go by (which doesn't happen often) we are so happy to be around one another again, because I'm really the only perosn who understands Brad, and vice versa.

Hopefully, we won't have an ending like they did. Especially since I'm "Jack" and if you've seen the movie, you know his outcome. I know in a perfect world, I could have everything I want, but it's not. It was just so weird to watch this played out on screen, and whether or not you think there are very strong similarities between this story and my situation, I do. It was as if I was having my future told to me. Up to the point in the movie where Brad and I are now made perfect sense, but neither of us knows what going to happen tomorrow. Watching this was like guidance, or advice on what could happen; what to be aware of. Brokeback Mountain doesn't have a happy ending, I'll say that much. As moving as it was, I don't want that to happen to Brad and I. But at least now I know how things will be if we continue on the path that we're on. Leading a double life is hard, especially in a judgemental environment like in which Brad and I live. Jack and Ennis went through this in the mid-West, in the 60's. There was no such thing as a gay cowboy back then, and if anyone dared admit to it, their fate was sealed. You have to make a choice at some point. And I realize that if I do love Brad, it's probably best I tell him now while he's here. No one knows, he might die tomorrow, or I might die. Nobody knows for sure. Ennis waited too long. By the time he realized that he could be with Jack, forever, it was too late. Hopefully that doesn't happen, but it's hard enough to say something like that to someone you've been friends with your whole life. I know Brad and I fuck, but it's different when the word "love" comes into the picture. He's asked me before, and I've denied it so far. Hopefully soon I'll gather enough courage to be honest with him, and myself, but only time will tell.

Let me know what you guys think, I'm curious to see someone else's point of view.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Rage

Well, after I got home from work last night, guess who was there, again. That's right, ole' Bitch herself. I didn't even have my shoes off, and she's in my face, asking me "what happened last night?" When I asked her what she meant by "what happened?" she replied with a cold "Everything." I looked around, both of my roommates, Drew, Brad's sister (a.k.a. Bitch's partner in crime) were all sitting in the kitchen, all looking at me. I literally felt like a deer in the headlights. Really, nothing had happened. We left the bar, talked for a few hours, and I dropped Brad off. That was it. Bitch says, "Well? What happened?" I just looked at her and said that nothing had "happened", I drove him home, and I came home and went to bed. Then she asked what took 3 hours, and I pretty much ignored the question. She wouldn't leave me alone, so finally I grabbed my keys, and before I stormed out the door, I made sure I had her backed into a corner.

"You have some fucking nerve coming into my house and talking to me the way you have been lately. And I'm starting to get really sick of it. I really don't give a shit what you want to say about me behind my back, but this is the one place where your little attitude gets checked at the door. That's my rule, and that goes for everyone. Anyone who doesn't like that rule, there's the door. And as for you 'crashing' here whenever you goddamn well feel like it, this isn't a fucking hotel. You have your own house, stay the fuck there once in awhile."

So then, she said something about her not coming to visit me, she was here to visit my roommate, and she could come and go as long as it was okay with my roommate. So I turned to my roommate, who is usually pretty opinionated, but had (wisely) kept her mouth shut. I asked her whose house this was. She said "Yours". I asked her whose name was on the 60-some mortgage papers that took 2 hours to sign. She said "Yours". So I turned and looked at Bitch again, and said "Guess who sunk themselves thousands of dollars in debt so he could have a nice place to live? Me. I guess that means that I make the rules around here. (roommate) and (rommmate) have no problems here, we get along great, things go pretty smoothly, so really it seems that any problems, past present or future that come between me and them, is a direct result of you sticking your goddamn nose in where it doesn't belong. I suggest that unless you want to be blamed for them having to find another place to live, you quit what you're doing right now. And don't think for one second that I'm half as pissed off now as I will be when you drive a wedge between me and my friends like that."

And with that, I blew past her and slammed the door on the way out. I got in the car and drove around up town for awhile, and headed home when I saw her car sitting at a restaurant in town. When I got home, I apoligized to my roommates, saying that I wasn't going to kick them out, and I wasn't in any way mad at them. I just told Melissa that she had to understand how Bitch was acting, and as long as she wasn't in my house, I had no control over what she says, but I won't put up with that here. Melissa agreed with me, and everything was cool. Other than that, I had a pretty normal night. I searched for tax receipts, to no avail, but ended up finding a lot of crap that was saved for some unknown reason, and now I have 2 empty drawers in my dresser.

Today, I find out that Brad didn't come home last night. He was apparently just as mad at Bitch for all the things she's been saying, which is fine, but it's now 4 p.m. and no one has heard from him yet. So I can't help but be a little worried. I KNOW he was drunk, and on his snowmobile last night, and that he has a hockey game at 7:30 tonight. So I'm going to wait until then, and if he doesn't show up for his game, I guess the search is on. No one, and I mean NO ONE else is worried whatsoever. I dunno, maybe I shouldn't be either. That might let him know that I'm not the one who's going to come running every time something happens. But, like I said, I didn't ask for any of this to happen. I didn't ask to have these feelings, nor can I do anything about them. They're there, so I guess I need to be there too. Hope he's alright though. You'll know either way by tomorrow.

--> (Follow Up): Brad had ran into his uncle at the bar, who in turn took the key to his snowmobile and forced him to stay the night at his house. He had called Brad's mother to let her know, and she has a poor habit of not sharing information with anyone. So he was okay after all, and not really "missing".

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Confusion

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. I hate that day. Not because I'm single, or anything, I've just always thought of it as a stupid Hallmark holiday. So once again, I expected to go home and do nothing. Actually, I was going to offer to watch my roommates' son, so they could go out for dinner or something, but the little guy's aunt already beat me to it. So I'm home about half an hour, when I hear Brad's snowmobile drive in. Bitch had already called and asked if I'd seen him, and I said no. Apparently they were supposed to go out for dinner, and Brad went M.I.A. She was on her way to my place anyways, because she and my female roommate were planning on doing something later. Long story short, she and Brad ended up getting in a fight after she got there, and their dinner plans were cancelled. She took off with my roommate, and Brad and I decided we would go to the bar and play pool.

At around 11:30, I decided it was time to head home, as I had to get up for work. We drove back to my house, and I asked what Brad planned to do for the night. He had too much to drink, and didn't really feel like driving home, so I offered to give him a drive. He accepted, and off we went. We talked the whole way about "us", and what all was going on. He made sure that I understood that Bitch had figured everything out, yet still had no actual proof. I said yes, that I knew that, and that as stupid as she generally was, she had figured this out pretty quickly. He also told me that the rumour about us had spread. Apparently, the night of his grandmothers' funeral, when I was sitting with Brad, Bitch, Brad's family, etc. and just chatting, Bitch got up from her seat and went to talk to some friends in another part of the chapel. So the "story" goes, I glared at her, then looked at Brad and said "You need to get rid of her. You'd be so much better off with me" and apparently Brad agreed with me. Now, I know some of you are thinking that I probably did say that, but I didn't. I've thought it a good many times, but I would never say that out loud, especially in a crowded funeral home, surrounded by his family. Bitch had brought this rumour to Brad's attention, when she heard it from Brad's cousin, who heard it from Brad's uncle, who I remember quite well was sitting damn near all the way across the room from us all night. So therefore, Bitch has gotten tired of making up her own stories, and is now blaming other people for starting them. She also has no problem repeating them to everyone she comes into contact with, and has made it quite clear that her sole mission in life now is to alienate all of my friends, and it's no doubt a matter of time until she moves into my family. Keep in mind, I live in a small town. Homosexuality, and bisexuality for that matter, simply isn't tolerated around here at all. Brad and I have both agreed this would be so much easier if we were in a big city where no one cared, but neither of us wants to leave the ones we love behind. I could tell he was very uneasy, so I had to bite the bullet and lie through my teeth, which I hate to do. I told him flat out that I was not in love with him. This was all just sex to me, and I never intended for any of this "mess" to happen, and anything he heard from anyone else was bullshit. Then he looked at me with this empty look in his eyes, and said he felt uncomfortable around me now, that things weren't like they were before this all started, and everything that everyone was saying was bothering him. Not because they were saying it about him, but about me.

This kind of surprised me, because really, people have always thought that I was gay, even when I had girlfriends in high school, and it pretty much died out when I was with my ex-fiancee-to-be for a couple of years, but after we broke up, and I got very unlucky in love, it started all over again. By now, I had accepted myself and didn't care what anyone else thought, and I was just worried about people thinking Brad was gay too. So basically, while I was trying to protect him, he was trying to protect me, and in the end, we both got screwed (NPI)

Then he went on to say that he didn't want to "do this" anymore with me, which I quickly decided was better than us not being friends at all. Then just as quickly, everything started to sink in. Brad had just said that we couldn't have sex anymore (which isn't a HUGE deal) and worse, that he felt uncomfortable around me now, and I was just waiting for the obligatory "I can't see you anymore". Believe it or not, I actually held things together pretty good. My stomach felt like shit, and all I could think about was the Bitch, and how everything bad that had happened was all because of her. So when I started saying these things back to Brad, making sure I had everything clear, he just looked at me, and when I was done he said he was sorry and that he didn't mean anything he'd said. He loves being around me, no matter what people say, but he still loves her. He even went so far as to say that he still wanted to have sex, because no matter how guilty he might feel, he's still bisexual and he can't control what he likes and what he doesn't like.

So now, it's like 1:30 a.m., and we're sitting in the same restaurant parking lot where we awoke last Saturday morning. My head was spinning because he had just gone off saying all this stuff to me, and then turned right around and said the exact opposite, that nothing he said was true. So basically, we were back at square one. We had driven around for almost 3 hours, talked each others' heads off, and we ended up right back at I'm really not in love with you/This is just sex/Let's just have sex and keep it quiet/I can't choose who I want to be with/I love her but I hate her at the same time and I could never leave her but I'm too scared to admit who I really am so I'll continue living a double life. Seriously. We had said all these things to one another, and we didn't accomplish anything, except for the fact that now I can't tell him that I love him, because we both swore we would never lie to each other. Ever. And neither of us has, until I did last night. So I drove him home, he told me to park down the road a little ways, and when I stopped he grabbed my right hand and squeezed it. Then he leaned over and gave me a kiss. I didn't kiss him back at first, but after a few seconds I think my reflexes kicked in, and I opened my mouth a little bit. I pulled back after a bit, and he half-smiled, opened the door and stepped out. He bent back down into the car and said "Go home, get some sleep, don't worry about it. We're cool." and smiled again, and shut the door. I sat and watched him walk to the house, and then I headed home.

When I pulled in the driveway, I saw her car there. The house was in darkness, so I figured she must have waited for us to come back, and fell asleep. Not like she even lives there, but she just falls asleep freely at my house. I thought I would just sneak in, go to bed, and not even have to face her. Not so. I went inside, and there she stood in the living room by the fireplace in the almost-dark. I looked at her, and she stared at me. I said nothing, until she asked if I took him home. I said yes, lit a cigarette, and sat down on the couch. I said nothing until my cigarette was gone, then I stood up, told her goodnight, and went to my bedroom. I could tell by the look in her eyes there were so many things she wanted to say to me, to scream at me, accuse me, but I knew she wouldn't. Not to my face, anyways. That's her way. Talk about me behind my back to no end, be nice as pie to my face. I hate that. It would make things so much easier on me if she'd just go crazy on me, so I could do the same to her. I promised Brad I wouldn't start anything, and I won't. Not until she does.

I'm starting to feel better now, later in the day. I haven't talked to Brad yet. Probably won't tonight. I know I need to get out of this rut and decide what the hell is going on, and so does Brad. Personally, I wish he'd just get rid of Bitch. He doesn't even treat her like a girlfriend. They fight constantly. She's too possessive, he cheats, there's no reason in the world for them to be together. But they are. And I really have no right to interfere with that, as much as I'd like to. So I guess I'll just have to be patient.

Later

Monday, February 13, 2006

Good luck explaining THIS to the insurance company...

Well, Friday night was an adventure. After having no set plans, I was all ready to go home and watch TV all night. But then, Brad called around 6:30, and asked if I wanted to go watch their hockey game. I said sure, I hadn't been to one of their games yet this winter. So off we went, the two of us and two other friends. Game was good, headed home around 10:30. When Brad and I got back to my car, he suggested we go out to the bars. I thought this was a good idea, despite the fact that he'd gotten about a 6-beer head start on me. So off we go, headed for town. After we'd driven for about 10 minutes, I could tell Brad was "in the mood" as he had moved his hand to my right thigh and quickly to my crotch. He unbuttoned my jeans and bent himself over the console, taking my dick in his mouth. I'll admit, he looked damn uncomfortable, bent every which way, his stomach jammed up against the e-brake handle, but his lips felt really good around my cock. He was starting to moan, I could tell he was hard as a rock. He kept reaching under himself, and was grinding against the seat. I moved my non-steering hand over to his side, and he twisted himself so I had access to his cock. I was jerking him off as best I could while piloting the car, and I was getting close to cumming in his mouth, too. I thought maybe I'd better have both hands on the wheel when I went off, so I let go of him, and gripped hard at the 10 and 2 positions. He did that tongue-flick thing he does right at the perfect time, and I went off. Hard. So hard I saw stars, and squeezed my eyes shut for what felt like only a split second. And that's when I heard

BANG!!! SQUEEEEAAAAAAK!!!

So I snapped my eyes back open, and realized I had mistakenly steered my poor car right into a guard rail. My mouth fell open, Brad snapped his head up, looked around, and said "What the fuck was THAT??" By now, I had steered the car back onto the road, and kept driving. Then I started laughing. I have no idea why. I'm obsessed with my glossy red paint staying glossy and red. I couldn't stop laughing. By now, Brad is laughing. He looks at me and goes "Did you just hit that guardrail when you came?" I laughed even harder, realizing my cock was still hanging out of my pants, as was Brad's, and I just wrecked my car. Finally, reality set in, and I pulled the car over. We both got out, and I walked around to the passenger side. Hmm, not as bad as I thought. Missing some paint, and a couple of wheel covers, but no dents. Coulda been worse.

So we get back in the car and keep driving. That's when I started feeling really bad. A few summers ago, it seemed almost every car Brad got into, crashed. So he was a fairly nervous passenger. He kept saying it was fine, not to worry about it, but I still felt bad.

It's around 11 by the time we get to the bar. I'm still a little shaky from our little incident, so we go inside and proceed to drinking. A lot. We leave the bar around 3 and head to a friends' place, where everyone always goes after the bars close. Now, at this house, anything goes. Whatever you want to do, sex, drugs, there are no rules at this place. As a rule, I always stay away from the hardcore drugs, like X, coke, etc. and just stick to weed. But Friday night, I was feeling pretty good. So me and an old buddy from high school head upstairs to a bedroom, where 4 or 5 other people are sitting on the bed. I was a little nervous, as all I had been told was that I was gonna get something that would make me feel a lot better. So when we get up to the bedroom, Drew produces an 8-ball of coke. I kinda relaxed. I had tried coke before, didn't do much for me. Although, afterwards I was told that it was pretty weak stuff, probably not much real coke in it at all. And I had never bothered to try again. I'd taken X quite a few times when I lived in the city, you take just the right amount, sex is out of this world. So Drew sets up 7 lines, one for everyone, and asked if I wanted a big or small one. I said a big one, thinking this was gonna be cheap shit like before. After I had half the line up my nose, I realized this was 100% grade-A coke, and before I could stop, I'd finished the line completely. An instant rush. I was wide awake, ready to go. Went back downstairs, drank some more, and honest to God, I don't remember much else until all I could hear was Brad yelling my name from another room. It was as if everything else had been muted. I could hear his voice as clear as day. So I found him, and asked if he was ready to go, and he said yes. I remember us going to the car, me starting the car, and him reaching over and pulling my head towards him, and kissing me.

I was more awake right then, than I was all night. However, the next thing I remember was waking up, slumped over the steering wheel in the parking lot of an old abandoned restaurant 25 minutes outside of town. The engine was still running, headlights on, stereo blasting, both of us passed out stone cold. It was 7:15 a.m. Saturday morning. I had absolutely no idea how we got there. So I woke Brad up, he also had no clue as to how we got there, so we shrugged our shoulders and started heading towards my house. Once we got there, I knew people would start getting up anytime, so we tiptoed to my bedroom, and both crashed on the bed, fully clothed, and slept until noon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday morning, I awoke to Bitch standing over my bed. I squinted at her, and then remembered Brad was sleeping beside me. Then the thought "Oh shit. She finally caught us" went through my head, until I could feel my clothes still on me, and neither of one of us were under the blankets. She had nothing on us. She was just pissed because Brad hadn't come home last night, like she usually is. It's not like they even live together. So I remember her mumbling something, and then leaving, and when I got out of bed, she was gone. Brad never stirred the entire time.

I'll fill y'all in on the rest of Saturday's events later. I got me some work to do right now.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Creepy Sex

Okay, the sex wasn't actually creepy, it's what happened while we were trying to have sex. Since Brad's house is usually full most of the time, he uses his grandparents' now-vacant house across the road to watch TV, play xBox, etc. His grandparents have both passed on, and their house is now under the care of Brad's father. All the furniture and everything is still there, just nobody actually lives there full time. So whenever we want to play xBox or watch movies or anything, we go over there and use the TV. So anyways, Wednesday night, we were playing xBox, drinkin' some beer, Brad more than me, and after a few hours, he started rubbing his crotch. I played coy for a few minutes, pretending not to notice. He's so funny like that, I've told him a million times if he wants to have sex, just say so. Don't bother hinting around, seeing if I'll take the bait or not - I'm a very horny bi-sexual - I'll have sex with pretty much anyone at anytime. So after a few minutes, I got tired of the vagueness and slow-progression of his "hinting" so I told him to unzip. He gave me this look, like "Huh?" and I said "Oh seriously. You been grabbin your crotch now for 10 minutes, you keep looking at me out of the corner of your eye, I'm not stupid. Take your pants off." So he did, and I got on my knees in front of his chair, and started sucking.

After a few minutes, Brad suggested we go upstairs to one of the bedrooms so no one could see in the windows. We moved upstairs, and continued our "roll in the hay". He had his clothes off in no time, and when I started taking mine off, he stopped me. He said he wanted to see how long we could go before he had to rip my clothes off. We had tried this before, and it didn't last very long. But I thought I'd humour him and we'd try it again. So by now we're on the bed, fighting over who was going to be on top. I'd be on him, he'd flip me over and get on top of me, back and forth. I have no admit, seeing him naked, feeling his hard cock pressing into my clothed leg, was kinda hot. He kept rubbing and grabbing my chest and my crotch, and finally I just told him to take my cothes off.

"Not yet" he whispered.

By now he was grinding into my leg, breathing a little heavier, and he pulled my shirt up over my head. Just as he unbuckled my belt, and started unzipping my jeans, we heard a fairly audible thump. It kinda sounded like a door slamming, or something, and then about 4 or 5 footsteps. Since I had more clothes on than Brad did, I jumped up, pulled my shirt on, and ran downstairs to see who was here at midnight.

No one.

I walked through the entire downstairs of the house, and found no one. Or any evidence of anyone other than Brad and me. At first I thought someone might have gone down to the basement to put wood in the furnace, but I looked, and the basement door was locked from my side, so no one could be down there. Brad had come down by now, and I told that I couldn't find anyone. Then I realized that maybe someone had come in, heard/saw what we were doing upstairs, and we heard the door slam on their way out. It was then that Brad realized it had snowed out, so we went to the door and looked for footprints. None. Brad then said,

"We heard the door, then the footsteps. Whoever it was came in and walked across the kitchen floor."

I looked over by the door, and the mat and the floor around it were both perfectly dry. No snow anywhere, nor was there any on the kitchen floor. So by now, we had both come to the conclusion that no one else was in the house, and we must have just heard the wind or something. Since I figured the moment was over, I walked back into the living room to grab my jacket, and Brad followed. When I walked over by the couch, he pushed me down onto it and started kissing me again. This time he wasted no time in getting my pants off. He went down on me like a pro, as usual. After about 10 minutes of him swirling his tongue around the head of my dick and taking me deepthroat, I was going nuts. No pun intended. I told him I was gonna cum, and he kept on sucking. So I grabbed the back of his head, and pushed him down further on my cock. He flicked his tongue at just the right time, and I went off. Completely filled his mouth, and he was trying to swallow as fast as he could. After I had recovered from my orgasm, I noticed that Brad looked to be in dire need of one too. So I pushed him back, grinned when I saw the drop of cum on his chin, and sucked him all the way down. It didn't take long before I heard his tell-tale grunt, and felt the first two spurts hit the back of my throat. I just happened to open my eyes for a second, long enough to see a set of taillights across the road at his house. I didn't wanna ruin it for Brad, so I kept sucking. Whoever it was wouldn't be over here for a few minutes, if at all. So after Brad finished up, he asked me to keep sucking, and held my head down on him. I tried to pull off, but he kept pushing me down. So I pointed towards the window, and he turned and looked, said "Oh shit" and jumped up. I looked, and realized it was Bitch's car, and could see her walking towards the house we were in. Brad yanked his clothes on, as did I, and just before he walked out into the kitchen, he turned to me for some reason, and I noticed he still had the drop of cum on his chin. As the front door opened, I grabbed the back of his head, and sucked it off his chin. He looked at me and said "what..."

"Cum" was all I said, and grinned. He grinned back, and turned just as Bitch walked across the kitchen. They said hello to each other, and she laid a great big kiss on him. I had to turn around, otherwise I was going to bust up laughing. After they got done kissing, she said she needed to pee really bad, and headed for the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Brad started laughing quietly, and whispered "If she only knew..." I laughed, and said I had to head home. He walked me to the front door, and gave me a really quick kiss before I left. He seemed to be getting more and more daring with people around, especially his girlfriend. He said goodnight, and I walked across the road to my car, and headed home.

On the way home, I remembered the whole door/footsteps thing. That was creepy. Whatever it was, was loud enough for both of us to hear it, upstairs in this big old farmhouse. I could see if we had both been drunk, but neither of us really was. Brad was buzzing a little bit, and if only he had heard it, I would have dismissed it, but I heard it very clearly too. I decided not to worry about it, since whatever it was had brought us back downstairs, and if we hadn't have come down, we wouldn't have seen Bitch drive in, nor heard her walk in the house, undoubtedly upstairs, and finally caught us in the act, like she's been trying to do for so long.

The whole thing still gave me the creeps though. This is a really creepy old house. It's big, and dark, and no one lives there anymore, regardless of all his grandparents possessions still where they were when they passed away 2 years ago. Ah well, it was a good place to hook up though, 5 bedrooms, no one else in the house, if Bitch hadn't rolled in when she did, hard to say how far we would have gotten... I promised Brad I'd do some work on his snowmobile for him on Saturday while he played in a hockey tournament, and he said he'd find some way to pay me for my services, with a wink. So we'll see what Saturday night brings... ;)

Friday, February 03, 2006

Catch-up

Wow. It's been one week since my last update. This whole "no-computer-at-home" thing is really starting to get to me. Hopefully by next week, that will all change...

Not that I have much to talk about, I'm an accountant for chrissakes, my life isn't that exciting. Okay, well, it's not that bad. Through the week, I pretty much just work, go home, sleep, go to work. There's nothing to do around here at night, through the week. We actually went bowling last Friday night. Bowling. Which was alright, but the music. GOD. I'm talkin' like 1995-1998 dance crap. You know what I mean, like Whigfield, Puff Daddy (no, not P. Diddy, PUFF DADDY) etc. I felt like a real ass when they started playing stuff from 2001. I graduated in 2001, and back then, thought that year produced the best music that would ever be made. So I'm listening to "Be Like That" by 3 Doors Down and thinking "damn, this song came out FIVE years ago. I graduated FIVE years ago. That's half a decade. I'm turing 23 in a month." and for the rest of the night, that's all I could think about.

It just seems like yesterday I left high school, and this stupid town. I moved 2 hours away, and started a (supposed) new life. All I did was take my old life with me and was miserable the entire time. I wasted the best part of my youth (the part when you can actually get away with just about anything) by trying to look and act older. Now that I am older, I want to be 18 again. I couldn't get over where the time had gone, and what I had "accomplished":

- Started, and almost immediately quit, college, because I didn't want to be broke all the time
- Moved my girlfriend in with me, proposed to her, watched her move out, and now we don't speak at all, even though we live 15 minutes apart, work in the same business, yet still despise the sight of each other
- Bounced around about 4 dumb ass jobs
- Came out of a car crash almost completely unscathed, that I probably should have died in
- Bought a house
- Gradually became less terrified of people finding out about my "alternate lifestyle" even if it is only "half-alternative"
- "Fallen in love" with my best high-school buddy, whom I never thought was into guys, but is

The latter is definitely the biggest moment I've experienced in a long time, even surpassing me buying a house. I put "fallen in love" in quotation marks, because I'm still not 110% sure that I AM in love with him. It feels weird. I knew when I was in love with my ex-girlfriend, because I could see us getting married, having kids, all that junk, but it's hard to picture that with another guy when you don't want a long-term, same-sex relationship. Which I don't, I just like hookin' up with guys. I can't see myself finding a life partner, and growing old. No offense to anyone who does want that, it's just my personal preference. It's just whenever I see Brad, I "feel" that way. I dunno, whether you understand this or not. It's confusing. Moving on,

Brad's girlfriend is a B I T C H .

Well, not really a big surprise, because she's always been a bitch, but I really hate it when people are so shit-eating nice to me to my face, but say awful, horrible things about me behind my back. Trust me, in a town this small, everything gets around faster than the speed of light. She is so paranoid about Brad and I being alone together. Not even "alone" together. She hates it when he and I are together anywhere, if she's not there to supervise. I mean, yeah, I'm having a gay love affair with her boyfriend, but she has no solid proof of this.

Example: A family-member of Brad's passed away recently. I called Bitch to ask what time they were going to the wake, so I could meet them and walk in with them. She said, "Oh, I'll call you when I find out, promise..."

So I go to the funeral home anyway, and wait. I'm there about 20 minutes, when her car drives in. They park beside me, she gets out and can't even look me in the eye. Brad gets out, and says "I thought you were supposed to call before you left home? You could've just come in our car." I just looked at him, and looked at Bitch, and he nods. "I'm just about through with that bullshit" he growls quietly to me, grins, and we walk into the wake. I decided to take the high road, and just let it go. Not as if this was the first time she's done something like that, and it certainly won't be the last. Fuck her.

(haha, sidenote, she got shit-faced at the bar the other night, and in an effort to burn Brad in front of everyone, sat on my lap and said "Wow. Maybe I'll just go home with you tonight (meaning me) and we'll see what you can do for me. God forbid I get off once in awhile..." and everyone just kinda laughed it off and kept talking, but the look on Brad's face was priceless, as I'm sure mine was too... Brad said later the next day, about how funny it was, once back in high school, Brad and I didn't get along for a few months, and this was when they started dating. At one point, he thought she was cheating on him with me, and it took a drunken fist fight to get that all straightened out. Now the tables have turned, and she thinks I'm fuckin' her boyfriend. Karma, or something like that...)

So that brings us up to now, I guess. The weekend was fairly un-eventful. Watched "The Exorcism Of Emily Rose" Friday night, that was a waste of $4. But I watched it at Brad's house, and Bitch had to leave early to pick her brother up somewhere. More about that later. It was creepy (what happened to me and Brad, not about Bitch and her brother). Went to the bar Saturday night, spent little money, drank way too much. I love it when people who owe me money always show up at the bar when I'm thirsty. Went to a SuperBowl party last night. I hate football, but I always watch the SuperBowl. Mostly just for the commercials, and there weren't even that many good ones this year.

I'm gonna quit rambling now. I'll try to get my sexy/creepy story typed up tonight. If not, sometime tomorrow for sure.

Later

(P.S. - Now that I read over this post, I realized that I started typing it last Friday, Feb 3rd, and finished it today, Monday, Feb. 6th, so really, this kinda skims over the last 2 weekends. Sorry for being sloppy. I'm working on keeping up with my posts a little better. I'm new at this, bear with me guys!)