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Operafan - Archived Blog Posts

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It is a sweet video but at 7:24 the depth of the moment overwhelms one of the guys.

 
I love this kid. He must have been out when he was 4. He really knows how to work it. Shane and Beyoncé.

 
I met the BF at a professional conference. We had seen each other a bit before hand but we had never spoken. He was older than I was (18 years) and we didn't travel in the same circles. A mutual friend had suggested that we room together and I didn't think much more about it. After we got checked into the room, I was off to work with and visit some of my friends.

I came back to the room later and he was in bed reading. He wasn't wearing a top but I didn't realize that he was naked because the covers were pulled up. I got undressed a didn't think anything more about it.

He got up to go pee and that was when I saw that he was naked. I asked him if he always slept that way and he said he did. Being the horny bastard that I was I filed that away in the back of my mind. We talked for a while but I couldn't go to sleep.

We turned off the lights and continue talking for quite a while. Then he lit a cigarette and I could see from the glow that he had a hard on.

I have to admit that up to this point I had never had sex with anyone I knew. All my sex was with anonymous strangers. I was very much in the closet and picked up sex wherever I could - which wasn't very often.

When I saw his hard on, I wasn't put off by it -- quite the opposite -- but this was also someone who knew my name. I was very leery of someone knowing I was gay. We kept on talking and he lit another cigarette and the hard on was still there.

I thought to myself, "fuck it" and said, "let's get this over with." I have no idea why I said that or what the hell it was supposed to mean. I also had no idea that he had never had a blow job before, but that revelation came a bit later. At any rate, I loved sucking him off but I was so nervous about the whole thing that I refused to let him blow me.

The next morning I could hardly look him in the eye I was so scared that he would call me a cock sucker and out me to my professional friends. I never was in the room much after that and we didn't see much of each other until we drove home.

I was so miserable with the fact that he was going to out me because I couldn't control myself around a hard dick. He wanted to talk about it on the way home, but I wouldn't. I wanted to just forget it happened. I think I said something stupid like -- "There's nothing to say -- I'm a big boy now."

At any rate, when we got home I expected to confronted by the school about the experience but as the months went by, and I never heard from him, I relaxed about the whole thing. What I didn't know was that he was agonizing about calling me but I had been so cold after the incident he didn't think I wanted to have anything to do with him.
 
Since we were both married at the time, and had been for a number of years, we didn't know how to go about developing a relationship. In fact, during the summer of 1982 we never spoke, although he often told me that he wanted to call -- and I lived in fear that he would.

In October or November he asked me if we could share a room again at another professional meeting. By now my panic had died down (police hadn't come knocking on my door to expose me -- times were oh so different) and I said yes.

The first night he suggested that we watch a porn movie. I still had my clothes on but he was undressed. He reached over and asked if he could return the "favor" that I had given him months before. And that was the first time a man made "love" to me versus having anonymous sex. Each day we were at the conference we started connecting on a variety of levels.

Early into our relationship, the only real problem we had at the beginning was that he was very clingy. I really wanted more space than he was willing to give to me. We worked through that and and as his marriage dissolved we met more and more frequently. He had been enormously unhappy in his marriage and he made it clear that he didn't consider me the "other man" in the breakdown.

From there on we worked on discovering what it was about our relationship that was making it work and making the best things stronger.

He was my first and only boyfriend. He had formed liaisons with other men early in his life but nothing for years. We loved being together, working together, loving together and having that other person who we could tell anything to. We didn't know it at the time, but we were beginning a 27-year journey of mutual love, affection, and support.
 
I don't know whether it seems like forever or a few minutes ago when he died. I think about him every moment and I keep trying to push back the memories of his last days. They were such a struggle for him to breathe. He had had respiratory problems before -- mainly from years of smoking -- but he gave that up about 3 years ago. The doctor said it was because his heart wasn't working well and there was fluid building up in his lungs. I don't want to remember this. It's all I can think about for the moment. Why did it have to be so hard?

I think in some ways, maybe it made it easier on me that his last few days were so difficult. I could let go because I knew he was suffering. I'm so grateful that he was in a coma and didn't know how much he was struggling to breathe.

I want to remember instead the times that we cuddled on the couch watching all of those terrible gay movies. Every Sunday was pasta night and homo-movie night -- although we did sprinkle in some of those during the week as well. Spaghetti with white clam sauce was his favorite although the bastardized version of Bolognese ranked pretty high as well. We'd have sex first -- no one likes to fuck on an empty stomach -- and I would permit myself my weekly double of Glenlivet to start off the festivities. By the time I had made my way through the scotch I was already feeling good and then the sex was always the dessert we had first before the main course.

The last couple of years the sex was pretty routinized and he didn't feel like fucking me any more -- it just took too much energy. That's okay -- I loved whatever we could do and he loved it too. Thank goodness for the miracle of modern medicine -- he could get a stiffy up to the last few weeks. And when he came it was always so strong.

The movies changed over the years and we started watching more classic PBS stuff because we related less and less to the coming-out stories and the twinks that populated the newer gay videos, but it was all good. The best part was after the pasta came the snuggling on the couch and he would hold me and I would stroke his hair. Maybe that is what I will miss most -- holding and being held.
 
My baby was on my mind all evening. I've already had my first Christmas without him and now the first new year's day. As I was preparing supper last night for guests, I couldn't help but feel I shouldn't be doing this. This is so trivial when he hasn't been laid to rest yet. He should be coming over to ring in the new year.

I don't not want to think about him every moment. I'm afraid that in some ways he will start to recede from my mind and I don't want that to happen. I want to hear his voice, feel his touch and his kiss and I don't want it to never be the first and last thing I think about every day. I can't believe you are gone. I miss you so very much.
 
I've had a hard time working today. You keep creeping into my thoughts at every turn. I miss you so much. Whenever the phone rings, I don't run for it any more because I know it can't be you. It has been nine days since you breathed your last and I'm having a harder time than just after you died. I know I did everything I could do to help you and then you just ran out of strength. I miss your hand on my chest as we cuddle together.

I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking about you - from the moment I get up and until I go to bed.
 
Well, baby -- it is Sunday evening. I should be packing up my stuff and getting ready to come over. About time for my scotch and some loving from the BF. We should be wrestling on the couch while watching some porn that B**d has sent you. Nothing like seeing some athletic boys getting it on before we got it on.

Then it would be time for pasta -- or maybe fried oysters tonight -- I know B**** bought you some for Christmas. I think she bought 5 pints -- enough to last us for a couple of months of Sundays. I'll be frying the oysters and you'll be making the salad and then it will be time for a movie.

I know the last time I fried oysters you ate very little. I should have known that you were winding down - particularly since it took you the better part of a week to eat them. There were so many signs that you weren't feeling well. I could tell but the doctors didn't seem to be helping. There were so many ways that you were slipping away from me and the world. Thank you for taking your time to go -- it gave time to adjust to your leaving.

I just want you to know that I miss you every moment -- I continue to be sad for your departure but grateful that you are no longer suffering. I loved you so much.
 
Well, babe, I watched last night's Brothers and Sisters. It's not the same without us being curled up on the couch. I have to tell you that I wept through most of it -- too much fucking cancer in the world. I don't know how we watched it when it was so close to home.

B**** called today and the arrangements are almost all ready for your service. I don't think I'm going to be able to get through it without making a mess of myself. I think of you almost every minute.
 
Hi, babe. I just dragged the trash down to the corner through the snow. I think we've gotten about 6 inches by now and, of course, my car is stuck on the side of the driveway. I made it worse so now I have to call AAA.

It reminds me of the last huge snow we had. I was stuck and couldn't come over to see you. I called and said if you can take me home afterwards I'll come over. I don't know how far the walk was -- couple of miles maybe -- but I couldn't stand being away from you any longer.

I walked over and we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. It was wonderful -- just like all of the other times. I wish we could snuggle again tonight against the cold and snow.

I love you.
 
I was going through pictures getting ready for your memorial service tomorrow. I ran across a number of the pictures of us working together on the conference in 1984. I have a lot of fond memories of working together with the group on that project.

One of my most indelible memories was you and I being in bed making out. This was only the second year of our relationship and we could never get enough of each other. There we were in bed -- I think you were giving my backside a workout -- and our friends came banging on the door trying to get us to go with them. Since we were otherwise engaged, we turned out the lights and waited for them to go away.

I don't know if they knew what we were doing or not but it felt sos sneaky to be fucking while our friends were on the other side of the door.

We would have so many more conferences that we would spend together -- our get away from home and to be together.
 
Today's the day that we officially say good-bye. I'm at quite a loss for words. I tried talking about it last night but couldn't get the words out. I know I'll make a mess of it today. The only think that has helped me these last few days is that I've been so busy with work. The next few weeks will be terribly busy as well and that will help me through this first month.

I still can't believe you are gone. How can you be gone when you are so vivid in my mind? I hear your voice. I can feel your touch. I can see your face.

Good-bye, baby. I love you.
 
We all gathered today to say wonderful things about you (well, I didn't because I was trying to cry as quietly as I could) but it was a wonderful day. I wish you could have heard all of the nice things they said (most of it true!). I feel your loss so much at the moment.
 
If all was right with the world, I would be getting ready to go over to your place and have my scotch for the week. You would be greeting me with a big sloppy kiss and we would begin our Sunday evening cuddle.

I want you to know that I should not be working on my classes and that I should be connecting with my sweetheart.
 
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