I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about the past as well as the present. There is a lot about me no one knows...I've kept it bottled up. Well, I just can't do it anymore. It hurts too much. I need to break down these damn walls and let people know me for who I am.

To start with, I guess I should talk about growing up. My mom and dad divorced when I was only 3 years old. I do not remember a whole lot from back then. I remember when mom and I went to Texas. I remember watching Hawaii 5-O at the hotel. I remember playing in the sand and mom found scorpions. I remember drowning in the pool. Thatís it.

When we came home, my aunt tried to take me from mom. I remember taking baths with my cousin. I remember how big her house seemed to me. The only other thing I remember is her beauty shop.

Then I flash to when it was just me and mom...we were so poor. I can remember eating pork and beans and tomato soup for weeks because we didnít have a fridge or stove...but I was happy. I can remember the year I got blue play doh for Christmas...that it. But I still remember how happy I was. I remember sleeping with her. When she held me......hell I was only 3 years old...wish I could remember more. I remember being sooo hungry. I remember going to peoples houses and digging in their trash...I remember a closet with a bag of dog food...I liked it.

I barely remember my dad back then...I remember what he looked like. Mostly, I remember his smell...he didn't bathe and smelled bad...I remember him on top of me...but that's all. I can remember getting finger paint from him. I remember him not wanting to play with me and getting mad...I donít remember him ever hugging me or saying I love you...

Then I remember this trailer we lived in. I used to lay on top of the couch to keep away from the rats...I remember there was a house got torn down and all the junk was in the yard...I remember mom making me a teddy bear and a big foot...I still have Teddy Freddy.

Last thing I remember is a man bringing bags of groceries into the trailer. He drove a black monte carlo...He yelled at me and beat on me...when mom stepped in he said me or him and left...I remember holding mom as she cried...Then we moved away...and I was never happy again...

Right now I am thinking about this green rug. I used to take my naps on it in kindergarten. After kindergarten, mom moved in with him and we moved. I remember the trailer we moved into. I remember the purple rug in the bathroom. I remember having my own room and toys. I remember the year I got legos for Christmas.

I keep remembering how I had to work. I remember pulling weeds in the garden. I remember trimming grass from around the trailer and the sidewalk and the two trees in the front yard. I can remember getting mad and pulling the corn instead of the weeds.
I got beat for it. I remember wanting to ride the tractor...I was told I wasn't good enough. I remember when we would butcher. I hated it. The men wanted me out of the way and so did the women. When I tried to just stay with mom I got in trouble for that too.

I remember how I felt like an outsider, like I didn't belong. Then, the man married my mom. I thought I was going to have a dad...I didn't. I was never accepted by his family either. I was referred to as her son, never as their nephew or as a grandson. I gave up.

I can remember the neighbors and my friends growing up. When I was with them I felt like a normal kid. But I wasnít... About this time I developed a stuttering problem. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't help it. The kids didn't make anything out of it, but the adults sure did... Slow down. Start over. I can't understand you so just shut up. You get the idea.

I remember the wedding. I remember my uncle wearing mom's wedding hat. I remember mom holding up a nighty. I remember how proud and happy I was. I remember the satin lining in the pants of my tuxedo...

Most of all, I remember when I found out I was going to be a big brother...I was so proud. I remember grandma and grandpa taking me to the hospital to see my baby sister. I remember seeing her pink feet most of all. I remember the pride I felt as I held her. Finally I was going to have a family because I had a sister. Again, I wasn't good enough to hold her or play with her. I can remember having to go to my room a lot for making her cry but not knowing what I did...then we moved again and all my friends were gone.

We moved after I was done with 4th grade during the summer. That was the last time I saw my dad. I remember we went to Six Flags. He wouldn't let me ride any of the roller coaster rides because his girlfriend didn't want to ride them. We pretty much kept riding the Time Tunnel because he was hot. We ate Mexican and I got sick. He yelled at me and took me home...

I still hate summer. I remember learning to mow the yard, with my step dad behind me. The toe of his boots were used to teach me how to mow a straight line. This was the first of many lessons...I remember being on my hands and knees with a pair of scissors trimming around the house and chicken shed and wash house. The worst was the trees in the orchard... He would wait until I came to him and said I was ready for "inspection." He would go out and count how many blades of grass I missed. The punishments varied, but most of the time I got a lash for each one I missed...

I remember my little sister that first year, running around the yard eating apples with only a bottom tooth. She liked her tomatoes and corn on the cob too! I didn't like corn on the cob...Again, he would count how many kernels of corn I missed and then yell at me...I still don't eat corn on the cob.
As far as that goes, I can remember lots of times when I would still be at the table hours after a meal because I wouldn't eat something...I remember eating dressing at Thanksgiving. I gagged and threw up all over my plate. He made me sit there until I ate it anyway...mealtime is still rough some days. I usually just scarf it down and go on.

I can remember the pen behind the house. I can still see my sister locked in the pen because mom didn't have time for her. I can still remember the tents we used to build out there. I can still feel them and smell them. I can remember holding her while she took her nap in the tent. I can remember the "rooms" we built. That first year went by quick. My memories go by quickly too. I have lots of bits and pieces and flashes. Most of them revolve work outside. No matter how hard I tried, it never seemed to be good enough. I can remember staying outside well after dark or getting up before the sun just to get the grass raked or weeds pulled. I still remember having to rake the grass every time I mowed. I still hate to rake.

I remember the garden. I remember weeding and weeding and weeding. I remember more "inspections." I remember the year we got blight in the tomatoes. Guess who got the job of picking all the rotten tomatoes? Uugh I still hate tomatoes. I remember picking up apples in the orchard. Everyday. More inspections. I remember pinging apples off sis's head. I remember picking up the rotten apples for her so she didn't have to. I remember when he would prune the fruit trees. Brrr. It was always cold and windy. But sometimes we would have a weenie roast.

I remember sharing a room with sis. My bed on one end and hers on the other. I can remember us getting yelled at every night because we wouldn't shut up and go to sleep! I remember the play ďkitchen" and the cardboard cabinets. We cooked lots of feasts...It was metal with brown paint...

Well, the years went by quickly. Each one a repeat of the last. Garden. Yard. Garden. I remember when mom went back to work. It was my job to watch sis, take care of the house and laundry, mow, take care of the garden and orchard. I was even supposed to have supper cooked most of the time...I remember the "list" on the table each day. But I think my favorite summer memory is walking in the woods, just the two of us...Then walking to the rock quarry as we got older...walking to the resale shop...I will always treasure the years when I was "daddy" and "Big Bubby." I could do no wrong in her eyes. We were so close then..........damn it to hell I miss that feeling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can remember when mom would go shopping...I used to beg her to take me and not leave me there with him. I remember hiding from him under the hedge. I remember so many bad things, but mostly I remember being stupid or worthless or sissy...I remember the beatings. I only tried to tell mom once...I found a Readers Digest story about child abuse and showed it to mom...She showed it to him...I never told her anything else after that. I remember the last whipping I got. It was in the chicken house...He used a garden hose...I remember telling him if he was going to beat me to beat me like a man...He did after that. I remember waking up on the kitchen floor one day. I remember going "out to the orchard" a lot too. I remember after I got my braces...the face slaps and the punches...

I remember when I started drinking in 6th grade. It was easier to deal with him after a few beers...I remember the Christmas he passed out on the floor...I remember sis crying because he wouldn't wake up. I remember being happy he was passed out. I always liked it when he passed out...

I remember when I went detassling every summer. I loved it! I got to get away from home and I got paid for it! I remember the olive loaf sandwiches...uuugh still cant eat olive loaf! I remember how hot it was and how hard the work was. But I was good at it. He had taught me well and I didn't miss many...I remember my hands bleeding. I remember sleeping on the bus on the way home. I remember who missed me the most. You guessed it. Sis! She was so lost...

I remember as I got older, sis and I kind of slipped away some. By the time I was in high school I was a drunk just like he was. Spearmint Schnapps was my drink of choice. A scope bottle, a fifth, and food coloring. Anyone who knows me from school can tell you I was a drunk. He had me convinced I was stupid and worthless, so I didn't bother. Those were the times...Wilcox Bridge. No more Southern Comfort! I can remember being away from home as often as I could on weekends...I remember going to Junior Prom with a date, but she left me right after our pictures. Oh well, there was a party to go to so who cared. I remember getting kicked out of Senior Prom. I remember getting so drunk I kept asking everybody "What's a Frosty?"

I remember clearly that it was during High School when I started to know I was gay. I never did anything with any of the guys though. If I only knew then what I know now! I would have really been a slut!!! I even knew which ones I wanted. I wanted them to screw me. I never thought of it the other way around. I was always on the receiving end...

I can remember the last time he beat me... I can remember him passing out. I can remember taking the gun off the wall. I can remember taking his black pocket knife out of the drawer. I remember holding it to his chin and waking him up. Mostly though, I remember how numb I felt...I remember telling him if he ever laid a hand on me again I would wait till he passed out and kill him. Guess he believed me because he never hit me again...

Last of all, I can remember when the recruiter came to the house... This was my chance to get away from hell. My escape. Maybe he would be proud of me if I was in the military like he had been...That is my main memory... I signed those papers to make him proud of me. That was the only and last time he showed any pride in me... That was the last time I felt proud of myself.

I joined the military my senior year of high school. I remember just wanting to get away from home. I remember the pride I felt at graduation when the recruiter gave me my enlistment award. It was nice while it lasted.

I remember basic training. It was hard, but I had been prepared for years growing up, so the head games really had no effect on me. It was no big deal to stand at attention for hours or be constantly on guard for inspection or have to say Yes Sir, No Sir all day. I tried to stay in the background like I did at home, but that didnít work.

My Drill Instructor took a special interest in me...I remember meal time. The DI would get a tray and I would get a tray. He would sit me down and not allow me to get up till I ate both trays. This was really the greatest challenge, because mealtime was one massive headfuck. You never knew when a DI or officer would come by and mess with you. I learned to really scarf the food down. We generally had a 10 minute time limit for meals. I did ok for awhile. Then my DI got in my face and I snapped. Too many years of Dad's shit was still at the surface...To make a long story short, I was forced to go on a march around the base in full gear. They thought they could break me...they thought wrong. I did the last 1/2 mile on my hands and knees, but I finished. Nobody fucked with me after that. I remember the obstacle course. I passed on my first attempt. What I really remember though is being lonely. I missed home. I called home whenever we were allowed to. I still remember hearing dad bitching in the background about the phone bill...My biggest heartbreak of basic training was being the only one with no family at graduation...

I went to Technical training after basic. I did great during tech school. I became an honor guard. I was a Silver rope. I excelled during chef training. Basically tech school was awesome. I remember the black dudes teaching me (trying to teach me) to do the Electric slide. I remember wearing MC Hammer jeans all the time. Most of all, I remember feeling so much pride in myself. I remember planning on making a career out of the military...I remember coming home on leave...I remember walking around in my dress blues with my head held high. I remember going out to eat somewhere. I remember the looks I got in my uniform.

On October 12th 1990, I landed at my new base. I won't name it here. Those who know my story know where it was. Anyway, I landed at the gates of hell even though I couldn't see the flames...When I first got there, things were cool. I made friends real quick. Really fit in, I thought. Did some more training. Finally, I was on my own. Well, things went good for little bit. My job entailed going out to missile sites as a cook. It was ok, nothing real difficult. Doing ok until one day... ok ok I can do this...

On Thanksgiving Day 1990 I came back to the squadron so excited and happy. I was going to go call home and then go eat a big turkey dinner...well that never happened. I went into a room used for debriefing...there were other guys in there. The door shut. It was locked. Suddenly, I was grabbed by someone and shoved down on my knees. I began to fight and struggle but it didnít do any good. I couldnít get up. One guy grabbed me an put me in a full nelson. Then another guy came up and undid his pants. He grabbed me by hair an pulled me towards his crotch. I kept struggling, turning my head away. The guy backhanded me and started again. I couldnít move. He had me by the hair and held my face in place. He rubbed his dick in my face telling me to open up. When I wouldnít he backhanded me again and again and again. Finally, I did it. I opened my mouth for him. He put his dick in my mouth. Then...I bit down! Its all a big blur after that. I remember just being punched and kicked over and over until I blacked out. I came too with a guy trying to screw me dry. I cried out and I was plugged in the front. The guy pulled a knife and told me not to bite or else. For hours they kept at me taking turns. I still remember the tastes and the smells...If they had to piss, they pissed down my throat. While they rested others took their turns. I passed out two more times I think. Finally, It was over.
A couple guys took me to the dorm and shoved me into my room. I passed out on the floor...I woke up later and got cleaned up and went to the hospital...black eyes, broken nose, dislocated jaw, 6 cracked ribs, bruised kidney. I told them it was a bar fight in town. I was off work for a few weeks.

The first part of December I went back to work. I still hurt everywhere but I had my orders. When I came back, I had to go and be debriefed again...yeah you guessed it. I was raped again. And again. And again. I fought again, but lost again. They liked to use my belt around my neck to choke me when I would fight. Threatening to suffocate me...They did because I kept fighting. I donít know how long they kept at it. I remember waking up on my floor again. This time I didnít have to go to the hospital.

The worst time came a while later. I came back from work and went into the room again. There was a couch in there now that wasnít in there before. They closed the door but didnít lock it this time. They told me to go lean against the back of the couch. I was tied down hands and feet. They told me I was their whore now. I heard the door open...a guy dropped 20 bucks on the couch and got behind me...This went on for hours... I finally just went to sleep. I woke up in my bed. there was a note and a 100 dollar bill. "Here is your cut bitch." I still remember how I felt. The rapes were bad but to become their whore? I just couldn't take it. I didn't want to live anymore...

My first suicide attempt was at work. I tried to run my hand through the garbage disposal but the power went out. I jumped in front of a truck but at the last second it had a blowout. I tried drinking gas and bleach. I cut my wrists. I tried to hang myself but I was too stupid to tie a noose right. When the rope came loose, I bumped my radio. the song "Don't Close Your Eyes" by Kix came on...That was the last time I tried suicide.

The rapes slowed down after that until they just stopped. Instead they would come to my room 1 or 2 at a time on my days off. They liked to use my own body against me, making me get an erection or making me get off, you know. It fucked with my head so bad. If I didnít want this, why was I liking it? Finally, I stayed off base when I was home. Then, I heard about a bar in Canada. Anything goes...Well I was already a whore....

The first time I went to the bar, I went to the owner/manager whatever he was. I had to go down on him. No problem. I had to bend over the desk. No problem. I went behind the bar and blew the bartender while he mixed drinks. The worst test? I crawled on my knees from the bar to the tables...under the tables...one after another until closing time...Then it was on to the main event.....the bar filled up and I was laid across a table...I passed the test.

On my days off, I went to the bar. If I was a faggot whore, I was going to do it right...It was then that I got into drugs. One of the men asked me if I ever tried Coke. When I said know, he took me to a room and go in bed. When we were both ready, he put his finger in the bag and then put it in my ass...I was hooked! The high I got. The feelings my ass produced. Man, I wanted dick for hours. He liked to coke me and then have parties and make me the pig. See how much I could take...

I remember this one guy. Very big and hairy and mean looking. The owner came up to me and warned me about him. Said he liked it rough. I told him some of what happened to me. He told me to be careful and he would check on me in a couple hours...The guy hung me up by my arms. He beat me with a black leather strap. Mostly across my back...Then screwed me and left. The owner came back finally and got me down. He helped clean up the blood. I found an 8-ball and 1000 bucks waiting on me. It didnít take long for me to become a pain whore too. Until the crazies became too much. I remember a guy who liked to wax on my pubes and rip the hairs out. Then use tweezers and alcohol. He liked clothespins too. and needles. and things...Explains a lot about me now huh?

My main man at this time was named Michael. He was a Canadian Mounted Police officer...I still remember him. So hot looking. So sweet and shy. He liked to buy me clothes and things like that, rather than just give me cash. We started to fall in love...I turned him away... All in all, I honestly don't know how many men I slept with......Damn you have no idea what that feels like....

Ever the smart whore, I turned to drug running across the border. Who was going to suspect a young clean cut soldier? It had worked at home growing up. And yeah it worked. I got arrested once...spent the night. Don't know what happened, but I never got charged...Found out later just how powerful the guy was but...

Anyways, in 1992, I found out that President Clinton was cutting back on the troops. I signed up for an early out. The military had enough shit on me they were happy to let me go, but no honorable discharge. I didnít care. I missed my sis and my mom. How was I going to go home? I was a total dope head. I went to the bar one last time. I went to the office and locked the door. I went to the desk and got on my knees. I handed him an unmarked 9mm. I begged him to kill me or let me go. I turned around so he wouldnít have to look at my face. And waited.
Well, Iím not dead. He set me up with a guy who took me home. I asked for one last favor...I had him take me to the basement and tie me to the bed and leave home for a week. If I was alive or dead I was not going home hooked on drugs...8 days later I was on my way home.

I don't really remember anything about the day I came home from the military. I remember my friends decided I was in no shape to drive. So I brought a guy home with me. I don't remember leaving base. I remember having to stop in St. Louis because of the fog. I can remember it was daytime when I pulled in the drive at home. I can remember mom hugging me. I can remember dads reaction...I was a failure to him... I remember waking up in my own bed. That's it.

I can remember right off the bat there was this expectation for me to just snap out of it. I was told I had 2 weeks to get a job or get out...Sooo I went to work at Roadmaster and he went to work at Wal-mart...Life just sort of went on then. I didn't know what was going on really but I remember when dad decided the guy had to leave so we took him to the bus station and left him. Not going to say anything else about him. Sis, I will be sorry till the day I die for what happened.

I never planned on telling anyone what had happened to me but...one day mom went in my room to wake me up. I have no memory, but she says I curled up into a ball and kept saying "don't hurt me!" "don't hurt me!" That kind of forced me to come clean about it. I don't even remember telling her. I mean what time was it, what were we doing, etc.

By this time, I was drinking again. One night we all sort of had a sit down and I told dad about everything...the rapes...Canada, all of it...I remember his reaction when I told him the name of the bar...Small world I guess...um wow. I remember lots of tears...Again, I was content to let him think of me as a failure for leaving the military just to keep him from finding out but...damn this is really getting hard. The thing I remember most is how dad never judged me...he asked why I never called and told him what happened...even me being a whore he never judged me about......

Again, I remember feeling like I should just snap out and get over it...I remember the damn notes on the table with the lists of chores for me to do...wtf ya know? I had no friends and didn't leave the house except to go to work...Then I was invited by a guy from work to come over and party. I can remember telling mom. She said to finish baking the turkey in the oven and then I could go...Well, I baked it and the left...It was 2 weeks before I came home. I snuck in to get clothes a couple times, but that was it for two weeks...

I ended up getting an apartment and moving out. I just couldn't stand the BS at home anymore ya know? the constant pretending everything was ok. I had no life and no friends...Well, it didn't take long for me to fall into the same familiar pattern...I started giving him blowjobs and he started taking my money. Then, I got hooked on dope again...He liked to get a blowjob and then beat the crap out of me after...I started doing really stupid shit with him. I stayed drunk or high or on speed all the time...I never saw my family... We went to Springfield and stayed with friends one weekend...It is just a blur...so much drinking and drugs...I have no idea who screwed me or when...or even if I was conscious. I have a few quick images but thatís all. I came home with worn out jaws and ass but again, same pattern...

I met a couple at work and went to their house. We became friends and fellow pot hounds. I never told them about my past...I remember their house. I remember partying and shopping. Then they split up. I started staying with her a lot. Again, I kept fooling myself that I was supposed to be straight...I did like her. Black hair lots of tattoos...you know me...I remember sleeping with her one night and the next day he came back...So much for me. They packed my stuff up and I went back to the apartment.

I became friends with another couple. I never did anything with him...I mean gross!!! But I started dealing dope for him to pay for my rent. Then, he offered me a room in his house so I moved out of the apartment. kept selling drugs. Started shoplifting...Damn I have been lucky....I just fell sooo hard again you know? Well, the next thing I knew mom and dad show up. Dad had the idea I WAS coming home...I can remember him asking if I was coming home or if he was going to have to carry my ass out to the car...Damn...Dad was there to save me...

Well, I moved back home. I was still just existing...I was sooo far gone. I remember selling dope. Bringing dope and cash home and sis stealing it!!!! HAHA can you believe it??? Pissed me off so bad but...again I was just a shell...

The last thing I remember of this time is when I just gave up again. I was to the point I was giving blowjobs in the factory parking lot on lunch break. I was back to snorting coke again...just dead inside...I decided to leave home for good...where they could never find me....I was going to go underground...couldn't decide between San Francisco or New York....but something happened....

I know this is going to sound real cheesy and that is ok. If you believe me, fine. If not, fine....I had this dream one night. I don't remember much except for this guy that was in it...he was like standing by my bed...I remember this glow. I remember his voice, his face, everything..."He said don't give up. Don't die. I'm almost there."

The next day at work, this guy started working on our line...It was him! I swear!!! But, he was such a bitchy old man! I hated his guts! But, we got to know each other and became friends. I invited him to the house and he invited me to his...I will always remember playing strip poker with him. He wanted to see me naked but didn't have the guts to ask! Loll... We got closer and closer. Finally, the day came when he asked if I had ever been with a guy before...I told him my story...He told me he loved me and he would never leave me......His only requirements? No drugs. No more partying. No more whoring around...

Well, it has been 15 years since I me the love of my life and so many things have happened. Some have brought me joy and some have almost destroyed me. But, this is about rebirth...rebirth of myself and who I am, rebirth of my heart and spirit, and rebirth of family and friendship.

When we first met, I hated his guts...he bitched at me everyday at work. To him, I was a spoiled kid. But as things would work out, he saw past the facade (and cute ass) and saw the broken man... In time I saw him as a possible friend. Eventually, he invited me to his house and wanted to play strip poker. Not such an odd request if you know me he hehe. Well, I ended up buck assed naked and he...well lets just say I don't play poker with him and more...such a damn shark! But, he didn't go any farther that time.

More time went by and we both began to see past each others faults. I can remember we were at my parents house when he first asked me if I had ever done anything with another guy. I told him what had happened to me...he was so strong and supportive as I told him about it. Well, this led to more questions...he was so naive...I had found me a virgin!!! And I get to train him...hehe...evil laugh...wink-wink.

I proceeded to take him to the movie rental and into the back room...picked out a handful of gay pornos and began his edumacation. I can remember telling him "See, a guy CAN do that!!!" He was aware of the oral but completely clueless about anything else. I took care of that the first night!!! I will never forget our first time...he was soooo gentle...and sooo afraid to hurt me. To this day he still is.

I can remember having to guide him and teach him...I remember the look in his eyes. He was like a teenaged boy again. He was (and is) so damn insecure...so convinced that he was ugly an a turnoff...But I took it slow and tried to explain to him what I saw in him...his eyes, his soft hair, his pecs, his perfectly made *CENSORED* and his chiseled *CENSORED*, you get the idea...

He was perfect for me. I remember how he thought I was just like the most precious hot muffin he had ever laid eyes on...I had the same self image of myself that he had of himself. We both wrestle with our self-concept, but time has made us both heal so much. Not to mention we can't hide certain effects...ya know? This time in our lives was so special...so pure...just love.

I am chuckling to myself as I remember meeting his parents...his dad was such an ass to me! "Get a haircut and be a man!" That was his greeting...lmao now...in time, I became as close...closer even than I was to my own mom and dad...I can remember lots of talks between us...I never shared my past with them though...In time I even started calling them mom and dad...

It didn't take long before I started staying with him more and more. I brought my clothes and stuff over...Wow it seems like a lifetime ago. I can remember our love life...we were a LOT younger and had more stamina...phew...pant...drool...! lol. But, life soon got in the way and I moved home again.

I can remember when sis became a Christian. I can remember when she led me to go back...I can remember getting baptized and joining the church...Then, I got the crazy assed idea to go to a Christian College and become a counselor...ME! Long hair, tattoos, leather jacket...But I went. I was soooooo lonely. And broke. and lonely. And, I felt like a hypocrite...I was a faggot...I did not belong there. So after my first year I came home and never went back.

Then, I started college at OCC...Then, mom was diagnosed with esophageal cancer...then we took dad to rehab...I've never seen or spoken to his family since... It didn't take me long to realize I had never had a family anyway...I can remember all the crazy shit mom pulled on dad...I remember sis's psycho boyfriend, but again, her story... Dad came back home, but the booze couldn't hide the hell he had to put up with at home...It couldn't drown his nightmares from the war...

We moved in together after this and I started to buy a house on contract. I lived there a little over a year...One day, an old schoolmate came by to see me...Even with all the love...all the trust...all the joy at home........my inner slut came out again and I cheated on him...I gave the guy a bj and he left...I confessed it to him that night when he got home...I will never forget the betrayal in his eyes...I will never forget the hurt...the tears..............the jagged blade in my heart. Perhaps even worse, the guy kept coming by, and eventually stayed with us for a while. This guy met someone at work and started seeing him. After a few months they broke up but the new guy became friends with us...

Damn this is hard to write. I remember one night I went to take a bath...When I came out, I found out that my true love had not forgiven me after all... He decided to return the favor and give some guy a bj too...wanted me to see how it felt.....

Even after all these years we both struggle with lots of jealousness and stuff...He told me something once when we were just starting to fall in love: "Love Hurts" Well, it hurts more and more everyday.

The house was an HGTV nightmare, so I canceled my contract an we bought a trailer and moved it onto his property... We lived there for about a year. Then, we got tired of fixing it up so I bought a trailer in town. We lived there for a year or so too.

About his time, dad had started drinking again...then he got a DUI. Then, he became suicidal and got another DUI, wrecked his truck, lifeflighted out... Mom filed for divorce. I never got the chance to go see him. His family was always in the way anyway...sis became healthcare POA for him and I became for mom...we both just fell into the same roles as always...Anyways, dad and I have never gotten past this and our other issues. I think we are now. Sis found her a boyfriend and had her first child...Life went on...

On top of this, during this timeframe his dad had a massive aneurysm and died within a few days...made it through the funeral...He began staying at home with his mom and time went on. We all struggle with his loss. He became like a second father to me. He helped to fill a void that was empty for so long. His passing changed everything for everybody. He moved back into the trailer at home. Sis found her another boyfriend and became pregnant again. Life went on...

Before long I decided to go back to school...He persuaded me. He encouraged me...I enrolled in the nursing program at OCC...His mom and him told me if I wanted to, just get rid of the trailer and move back into the house so I wouldn't have all the expenses. After 2 semesters things changed...DCFS took the girls ad placed them with grandma and with me...

Well, the past few years have been hard...Nursing school was a bitch! Basic training was a piece of cake compared to that. Eventually, I graduated and got a nursing job. I convinced him to take a year off and let me support him...We all took turns with the girls. Life went on...

Now, all of a sudden my whole entire life has done a complete 360. I am reunited with my sister and we are closer than I could have ever dreamed of. I'm still working on forgiving myself for my past but I'm making progress...Dad has been really sick. I mean giving up ready to die sick...It really made me face the fact that I never stopped loving him or missing him or needing him...

Sis is getting ready to get married...OMG!!! I always figured her queer brother would go straight and get married before she ever tied the knot!!! lmao! But, she is marrying a wonderful man. I never dreamed she would be so happy...And the craziest, most freak my head thing? Dad and I are beginning to rebuild...he even gave me a hug...haven't had one in over 30 years...

But even more 360? I have finally learned what love truly is...by forgiving dad and forgiving sis and accepting them for the screwed up human beings that they are and admitting to myself how damn much I love them. I am making big strides in figuring out who I am and what I want in my life.

The love of my life has stayed with me throughout all of this...we are making progress with us as well...Our love is not perfect, but our love is strong and unbreakable now. Do we screw like a couple of 20 year olds? Damn I wish!!! But...I am no longer a whore...I am a gay man who is finding his was back from hell...All I can say is "It is great to be back...."

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My Story...

http://www.malesurvivor.org/board/ubbthr...8711#Post348711