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Coming Out Stories Gallery - Dan 3

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I've known I was gay since I was 12. I'm 19 now, and only my two best friends know; I didn't even tell THEM until I was 18. I spent 6 years in hell, and although my life is better now, I'm still afraid and I still suffer in silence everyday. But I'm here, as I understand it, to tell how I came out.

When I was 16, I moved from Halifax to Ottawa. I left behind a job I loved, friends, and most of my family. Now, making friends in elementary school is easy; everyone loves everyone. High school is a different matter. After a year of work I came out of grade 11 with two good friends; Calbe and Brena. Both had their problems, or created problems for me.

Brena had a huge crush on me. It started getting akward after a while, making excuses as to why I wouldn't ask her out; getting rid of her nagging friends who would bombard me with "Why not?! Why not?!"; brushing her off without hurting her feelings. Thankfully, she now has a boyfriend, and though we're not the best of friends, we ARE friends still.

By the end of Grade 11, Calbe was a similar problem, only in reverse. I had a HUGE crush on him. He was a year and a half younger than me, but more than half a foot taller. Also, being a Drama student at my school, he was really touchy and.... fancy-free, if that's the right word for it.

Over the summer we did A LOT, and became the best of friends. But I was always plagued by Calbe's ambiguity. He would play around with me and pick me off the ground to hug me. Yet, he did other things; yapped about girls, looked at porno. One time, at which point I still barely knew him, he invited me over to his house with another girl and ended up making-out with her in the dark while I was left alone to cry in an emotional wreck behind the sofa.

As time went on, I came to love him. It was no longer simple lust, I loved everything about him. Almost. And it was a deep love, true love. But I never knew how much it was returned. The next school year things got worse. He began kissing me on the cheeks and forehead, and he once told me "If I was gay, I'd go out with you." My depressed state got worse and worse. The ambiguity was killing me. Finally, it became too much.

At the end of Grade 12 I was a nervous wreck. Brena's crush had reached it's peak, along with two others' that I had to subtley brush off. I had also finally decided to tell Calbe I was gay, and that the consequences couldn't possibly be any worse than the Hell I was already in. I wrote a long 5 page letter to him, and kept it in my pocket for when I was ready. It explained everything, including my huge crush on him. That was the part that worried me the most.

The very last day of Grade 12: I was crying; refused to talk to any of my friends. Everyone was concerned, and I was worried out of my mind. How was he going to take it. Would my life be over after this? Would I have to try suicide again?!

That afternoon after school we went to his place. I had told him earlier that I had something VERY important to tell him. I took him up to his room, and sat him down on his bed, gave him the note and quickly ran back to the hall, peering through the crack in the door.

There was silence, excrutiating silence, for about five minutes. Then I heard Calbe softly calling my name, and pleading for me to come in.

"Dan? Please come in here. I won't hurt you"

I hesistated, then bowed my head and walked in. He grabbed my hand gently and sat me down beside him.

"I'm gonna finish reading this, and then I'll tell you how I knew."

I stared down at my socks in silence while he finished reading.

"I'll tell you how I knew, Dan. I never suspected you were.... ... until today. I asked you why you had to tell me, and you said Brena would be devestated if you told her. I had decided you were either gay or moving back to Halifax; that's when I knew for sure."

I felt really terrible, and I was still increadibly scared. Calbe put a hand under my chin and coaxed it upward.

"Dan? Can you please look at me?"

It was only at this point that I realized there were tears in my eyes.

"I.... I can't. I'm too ashamed."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not mad at you. I'm not gay, but I was raised in a good home...."

We talked for a few hours. We agreed that it felt sur-real, and Calbe made me realize it was probably hard for him too. He asked many questions; I wish he'd have asked more. I liked answering them; I felt a release.

Afterwards, we went to a friend's house to watch a movie. Calbe was increadibly supportive, and he insisted I sit by him the entire time, so he could hug me and put his arms around me. I felt great.

Calbe and I are still best friends, and I hope we are for much, much longer. He is the best thing to ever enter my life. He has always stood up for me, and has always been enourmously supportive. I still have a huge crush on him, and he knows it, but we can joke about it now. He comes to me for advice on his physical appearance and girls. We still fool around, and hug, andother really weird-but-cool stuff, and there is not a splint of akwardnesss between us. He has rarely given me trouble about being gay, and has been more support than I ever could have hoped for back in Grade 12. If only the world were filled with more Calbes

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