Coming Out To Cousin Eddie

I've spent endless hours reading "coming out" stories all over the world wide web, and I still haven't come to a clear conclusion as to whom I feel more empathy for. The kid who is obviously gay, a total fem-boy, with mostly fat, and unpopular girls amongst his list of friends, you know? - the kids from drama class. The one's who act swishy, and get teased and tormented by guys who don't even know why the do it, other then they think they're supposed to. Yet at the same time, the fem-boy struggles to understand why they torment him so? Well - that's pertty much like pulling a dog's tail, and then sitting back, and wondering why the fucking thing bit you! - Because that's what happens when you pull a dog by it's tail! - Let's face it, when this type of kid finally decides to "come out" and make a public declaration, it's not exactly ground breaking news, wether he realizes it or not, that train has already left the station.

Then there is the kid like me, the one who would be labled as a "straight-acting, closet case." I'll be the first one to admit that taking this approach is a never-ending web of lies, that will only require bigger, and more elaborate lies as time goes by. But unlike the fem-boy, I didn't have any false perceptions as I started to weave my web. I knew that I was building a house of cards that would eventually collapse under its own weight. Exactly when that would happen was the quantative risk that I assumed by not making the decision to just be myself. At least a fem-boy can proudly wear the merit badge for just being himself. 

In short, it's my theory that being a gay kid is a "pay now - pay later" situation. There's a price to be paid for this. Be it now, or later, a price will eventually be paid. Simple science will tell you that a delayed action will only solicit a greater reaction. Therefore, "pay now" should be the best option, and as much as it pains me to say this - If I had a chance to do it over again, I would have taken my lumps as a kid.

And here is why - because I can't recapture the years that I have lost while I lived a life of lies, and deciet. I cannot look back fondly on approximately, a decade of what should have been the happiest years of my life.
The people who filtered in and out of my life between the ages of 15 and 25 never had the pleasure of knowing the real me. They where duped by a dog & pony show. They didn't get the friendship that the though was built on trust and honesty. All they got was smoke and mirrors at the hands of a kid who was so fucked up in the head, by his homophobic parent's, that he's rather die then be found out as gay.

Whenever I run into someone from "the dark decade" I perpetuate the lies, because I'm too fucking embarrased to admit that it was all a hoax to cover-up something that I still feel the need to lie about, so I don't have to see that look of betrayal. 

I suppose that I'm in a funk these days because I find myself sitting in an empty house, the house where I grew up. It's just 300 yards away from the school's where this nightmare started. There are no parents here, the house has sat empty for years and becomes home when my life get's off track. I had to leave the real life that I lead 1,500 miles away from here for a while. I'm actually sitting in my old bedroom, and trust me. I'm only here because there is nowhere else to go. 

There is nothing here but constant reminders of things that I have paid alot of money trying to forget. Some of them the smallest, most insignificant things that carried a heavy price. Like the 30-year old stain on the bathroom tile caused by a droplet of black shoe polish. It got there due to a careless 10-year old who only wanted to prove that he was a big boy, and could shine his own shoes for church on Sunday.

I remember that day very well, because we where praying extra hard for Cousin Eddie. He was 16-years old at the time, and it was discovered that he was homosexual. I didn't know what it meant, but I recall asking my dad if Cousin Eddie was sick. My father confirmed my worst fears when he told me that I should pray really hard for cousin Eddie, because he was about as sick as a human being can get.

"Can't they give him medicine Daddy?" I asked.

"No son, cousin Eddie is making himself sick, and if he doesn't stop, God is going to send him to hell."

"Daddy, does Cousin Eddie have the sickness like Grandpa?" I asked.

"No - What cousin Eddie has is a hundred time worse then what Grandpa had." My father said.

I started to cry beacuse I was sure that Cousin Eddie would be dead in a matter of days. Grandpa was making himself sick because he drank too much whiskey, and after a few years, the sickness killed him. 
Now cousin Eddie has a sickness a hundred times worse, I couldn't believe he was going to die and go to hell. I didn't like any of my cousins, except for cousin Eddie. He was always nice to me and gave me his old bike when he got a new one.

I don't think that my parents realised how much their religious rederic tramatized me. Why would any logical thinking parent, tell his child that his favorite cousin has an illness a hundred time worse then the illness that killed his grandfather? That's just plain old fucking sick!

I'll never forget the look on the faces of my mother and doctor when they discovered that, at 10-years old, I had a bleeding ulcer. I had worried myself sick over cousin Eddie, and spent every waking hour praying in my head, begging God not to let Cousin Eddie die, and send him to hell. I begged God to make cousin Eddie see that he was making himself sick.

"Please God! - Cousin Eddie will stop whatever he's doing if you just tell him to. He'll listen to you God, I know he will. He's a good person, and he even gave me his bike when he got a new one, and helped me with my slot car for scouts, and he's always nice to me. Oh yeah! I almost forgot. He mows the old lady's yard across the street for free, just cuz she's old! - That has to count for something God, doesn't it? Please God!
Please!"

I'd preyed like this in my head for a month, I remember how my heart would sink every time the phone rang. I was sure that it was my aunt or uncle calling to let us now that Cousin Eddie was dead. For reason's that I don't recall, I called my Uncle's house out of the blue and Cousin Eddie answered the phone. I was crying, and hysterical. He had no idea that I had been told that he was sick. I told him that my dad said that his sickness was a hundred times worse then Grandpa's. 

Cousin Eddie assured me that he wasn't sick, he had never been sick, and he didn't plan on dying anytime soon. That evening I was quiet at the dinner table, and was eventually questioned by my father. I told him that mom had told me that if I can't say anything nice, I shouldn't say anything at all. He insisted that I tell him what my problem was. 

"You're a liar" I said

I was well aware that I'd suffer a beating for saying it, but the look on my father's face was worth that single beating, ten times over.

About a year later, at age 11, I learned what homosexual meant. Now imagine my shock and horror, another year later, at age 12, when I began to realize that I was turning into one myself. I couldn't escape the fact that I thought that this kid named Mario was really cute. He had dark brown hair like me, except his eyes where blue-green. And the stuff he put in his hair smelled real nice, and I got a funny feeling in my stomach when he was close enough to me to smell it. I tried to stop feeling this way, but what a differance a year makes.

I was 13, Mario was 13, I was growing so fast that my bones ached. Things where happening to my body that we didn't talk about in my family. By the time that Christmas rolled around, I was on the vurge of age 14, and no longer attracted to Mario, but flat-out in love with him. So in love that the threat of eternal damnation was nothing more then a bump in the road. It was the thought of my parents finding out that struck me to the core with fear. 

My love for Mario became overwhelming, and out of shear desperation, I wrote a note and shoved it in his locker over the weekend, so that he'd find it on Monday. It basically said that he knew who I was, and that I knew that he didn't have, and has never had a girlfriend. I wrote that I thought that he was the cutest boy in school, and that I thought about him all of the time, but that I was also a boy. 

Somehow, through the rose-colored glasses that I was wearing, I thought that we where meant to be, and that he'd be happy when he found out that it was me that wrote the note. Of course, I didn't sign it because I'd know what he thought about it by him keeping the note secret or telling people about it. I was so blinded by love that I had already started to save up money to buy him a I.D. necklace, engraved with his initials for Christmas. I was certain that he was going to be my first secret boyfriend. That wasn't an option. Nobody could ever find out that we where boyfriends, ever!

It was the last week of school before we went on Christmas vacation. I had been walking on a cloud all weekend and couldn't wait for Monday to get here. Mario was in my 3rd period science class, and I knew that he'd have discovered the note by then. I was trying to pull myself together as I walked towards the classroom, because I was a nervous wreck. I new that I had to play it cool. I just hoped that I'd see him sitting quietly in his seat. Mario didn't seem interested in girls, and I hoped it was because he was like like me, and we could become boyfriends and cover for each other by making up stories that we had seen each other at the mall with girls.

As soon as I opened the door to the classroom, my eyes darted right to Mario's seat. There he was with few guy's standing by his desk. I noticed the powder blue paper in one of the boys hand, as the others crowded around him reading my note. My heart sank, and as bad as I wanted to turn and run away, I couldn't. I had to go over there and see what was so interesting just like I'd normally do.

"What's going on?" I said.

"Look at what some fag stuck in my locker." Mario said. 

I was suprised to hear Mario say that. In the few years that I had known him, I had never heard him use that word, or say anything mean about anyone. That's was made Mario so attractive to me, he wasn't crude, and didn't use swears just to sound cool. He was sweet and nice, and I was in love with him, but now my world was crumbling all around me. I honestly didn't expect this. I knew that it was a possibility, but I didn't expect it in this case. I had become very good at holding emotional pain inside. My parent's where professionals when it came to administering emotional pain. 

I made the short walk home, racked with a sadness that I hadn't felt since I thought Cousin Eddie was going to die. I didn't let it go until I was home, and secluded in the safety of my bedroom. Then it all just came pouring out of me. I burried my face into my pillow and cried like I have never done before. I felt so lost and had no idea what I was supposed to do. 

On Christmas Eve, we went to my aunt and uncles house to visit for a while. I forced myself to eat even though I felt sick. I hadn't been able to think of much other then Mario, and how sad I was that he didn't want to be my boyfriend. I was so angry at myself for writing the note to begin with, If I would have know that it was going to hurt so badly, I wouldn't have done it.

Cousin Eddie could see right through me, and he came out to the front yard and sat down in a lawn chair right next to me. I was shaking because I knew that he would ask, and I knew that I would tell him. He was the only one that I could talk to about this.

"What's wrong little cuz?" Eddie said.

"Guess?" I told him.

"You got a broken heart" Eddie said.

"Wow! - you're good Eddie, you got it on the first try?"

"What's her name?" He asked.

"Oops! maybe you're not that good after all, because she is a he, and his name is Mario." I said.

"Dayaaaaam girlfriend! don't beat around the bush! If you got something to say, just say it." Eddie said.

I busted up laughing with a mouth full of Pepsi because Cousin Eddie called me girlfriend in a really gay sounding voice, and snapped his fingers. Light brown foam was dripping out of my nose and it stung. But as unsettling as coming out was, I felt less alone now that Eddie knew my secret. I know that he'd never tell anyone And he was the first one to warn me not to keep it hidden too long, the longer you wait, the harder it get's. 

"Just like you said it to me just now - That was smooth the way you did that homeboy!" Eddies said.

"Well that was easy with you Eddie. Everyone already know's you're a big old homie-sexual." I said.

"Whatever pendejo! - you know what I mean?" Eddie said.

"I'll never tell my parents, or your, anyone who isn't like me." I said.

"It that right? - well.... don't say I didn't warn you." Cousin Eddie said.

That was the best advice that I never took. He said that if they really care about you, they won't care. If they can't accept it, then you're better off getting rid of them now, because they aint nothing but chicle' (gum) on the bottom of your shoe. During my first year of high school, I started to weave the web that would trap those who got to close to the truth. And there was nowhere to go from there but down.