Neighbor Boy (comfort)
By age 11 I had been without a Dad since age 8, though my parents actually divorced when I was 9. Since the age of 9 I had been messing around with my cousin. I felt the abandonment of my Dad, every second of every day. I was picked on in school and by some neighborhood bullies. I was tall at 5'10 by the time I was 11, strong and well built. I could have kicked anyone's ass who was picking on me, but did not have the confidence that positive male guidance provides for a boy. I was in it on my own with no back up at all. My Mom was great, but was working her ass off just to put food on the table and a roof over out heads. She did without many things to provide for us. She was as good as they came, so I had that going for me at least. Before my Dad left she was a stay at home Mom who was very nurturing and attentive. I have very positive memories of bonding with her in an appropriate manner. My Mom was smart though naive and had a healthy sense of boundaries. It was because of this I believe, that I never developed any unhealthy attachments to her, so she never moved in to the role a good man might have played in my life. I had a great Mom, but she was very busy. With her generation, they just were generally not aware of sexual abuse or what to look for. In the long run, she would serve to be one of the saving forces in my life.
Now, on to the neighbor boy... We lived on the main street and he a block behind us. My Brothers and Sister along with several neighborhood kids were playing hide and seek. By this time I had grown somewhat comfortable with messing around with another boy. He and I hid together behind his parent's garage. While sitting there, we looked at each other and it become that knowing look. We knew right then what we wanted to do. We broke off from the other kids, went off and got in to it. Between us, it all began by feeling each other up, then pulling out our dicks and sucking each other. This one with him was different than my cousin. He was a sweet and gentle boy with a lot of passion who was also very good looking and popular with the other kids in school. I was also a very good looking boy, but not popular at all. With him, I had at last found complete acceptance. We began a sexual relationship that would last until I was 20 years old. If one of us wanted the other, we would simply go to the other's house and ask "do you want to do it"? The answer on both sides was always yes. We were very attracted to one another and loved being together. The excitement that we felt was incredible. When I was 12, we added kissing to our activities and would make out for long periods of time. We were both masculine boys who loved being together. I think because of the positive Mother role model that I had and the fact that I was originally headed toward being straight. I still liked girls, but was now thoroughly locked in and hooked on homosexuality. It was a drug. Throughout school he was voted most handsome, most popular, king of this and that, top varsity football player, but when the game was over, he was mine exclusively. During those years, he was the only source of comfort in my life, though I never developed an otherwise unhealthy attachment to him.
We also both dated girls all through school and I did dig the chicks, though I never had sex with them. This was not because I didn't want to, but I had this respect for them that made me want to save that for the right girl and even marriage if I could make it that far with having sex with one. I wanted that relationship to be special, some day, somewhere over the rainbow. I never gave up hope that I would some day have a great marriage with a wonderful girl. It was always my dream. This was also the case with my boy, though I think he was probably bagging some girls also. This was expected of him and he, like I was deep under cover with the homo thing. He and I ended our relationship when I was 20 because it was just time to do so. I moved away from our home town and would not return or see him for several years. When I was 32, we met and talked about things. We were both married with children by this time. We agreed that we could never do it again, but did have very fond memories of what we were for each other. We still see each other and talk every couple of years, but that is over and never to be revisited. That is ok and I can only speak for myself when I say that he helped me get through some of the hardest times of my life. I think it was the same with him, though I have no idea if he was ever molested and I never have told him of mine, though I plan to. He is the one homo player in my life that I never had an issue with. As far as I can tell, it was overall positive, though it may seem strange to some of you out there. Did it reinforce the homosexuality? Yes, but that was bound to happen anyway, I was ripe for it by age 11. I will always have fond memories of him.
The worst for me was still yet to come. I would become involved with a world class pedophile and child molester as well as brushes with other one's. Drugs and alcohol also entered the picture. We will begin to get in to that next. Deep and dark places ahead!
If someone throws trash on my lawn and drives away, it is mine to deal with. I make the decision whether to collect it or take responsibility for cleaning it up. We are the sum of our choices. For some, these were thrust upon us at an age when we were not qualified to take such resposibility. R.J.