The last time I wrote was back in October of 1999. Do I feel like I've ripped off my usual readers? No. I wonder if I even have usual readers anymore. Oasis seems like such a faraway place. I used to use it for expression, and it's like I don't need it anymore. It's strange. Things are strange.
Since my last experience of writing an article for this magazine, my life has sincerely changed for the better. Or maybe for the worse. That's the thing about life, you can never be sure, because the hallucinogenic affects never completely point you in the right direction. You never know if things are real until they're over with, and you're never sure of if that really happened until it stops. I guess that's what I'm facing right now. The idea that it ended. What does that mean?
I'm not sure.
I still live in the same place, with the same cornfields, the same always-developing sub-divisions filled with doctors, lawyers, and Ford Explorers. The same country roads that are falling apart, and the same sky overhead. And the same ever-spinning circle of stars.
I'm seeing things a little differently right now though.
Things started to change in January when I came out to my father. It was a stressful and adventurous situation, where I was either trying to re-configure our relationship and get some type of dialogue back, or trying to self-demolish what small amount of comfort that I had left at home. I just wanted a change, and after numerous talks with friends about how I was about to start flipping out again, I ended up taking action.
I remember how in Oasis, month after month, I bitched about how other people's lives were so much easier. Specifically, how Ty came out to his parents and how they were so supportive and understanding, and how everything was stressful and confusing for a moment, but then things went okay. To an extent, I was hoping that my situation would come across as the same experience. To another extent, I was hoping that I'd get kicked out and my life would go to Hell. I guess I was desperate enough to take that risk to actually see if anything would change.
The point is that I would like to take this chance to apologize to Ty, and all the other people that I may have offended or disbelieved, because I just couldn't comprehend that other people's lives were less complicated than mine. I admit that I am sincerely a hypocrite, and I obviously spoke before I thought, or bitched before I even tried--
I came out to my father, and he had no problem with it.
Now that in itself may be a bit of an overstatement. My father wasn't the happiest person in the world for the first few moments after he found out that his son likes guys as much as he likes girls. But things weren't as complicated as I had imagined. We had a six hour conversation about how things were working in my life, and how I came to these conclusions about my sexual orientation. At the same time, I think it was hard for him to understand the circumstance of his son being not-too-straight, when he very well knew that I've been seriously dating a girl for nearly two years. I guess that's the little idiosyncratic gesture of life that's here to remind me that I'm an individual. It keeps things working somewhat smoothly as well. I wonder if when I end up seeing a male, if I'll have to go through the whole more-Hellish coming out process again. I guess I shall see.
I just remember those first few moments after I told him. It was like a public service announcement, and I felt so generic. Because I found myself in tears, asking him if he was going to kick me out of the house now...
I guess the strangest thing in the past several months is that, through coming out to my father, it re-established some sort of relationship and dialogue between us, because he thinks that I tend to trust him enough to tell him about myself. So the next thing I know is that I have a new Honda sitting in the driveway all for me-- which is something that I'm still bowing and in awe about. So in essence, I came out to my father, and he bought me a car.. which is the weirdest thing that I think I've ever had to fathom.
So, in retrospect, as predicted, the year 2000 is going to be an extremely bad and good, and very strange year. And it's apparent that the year has started and is following through proudly and strongly.
Being out is a very different experience that being in the closet, somewhat. I have been out to my mother for years, but have kept the secret hidden away from my father for reasons that I've never really understood. He wouldn't understand like Mom would or something similar. It seems that this is the way that most people come out. To their mother's first, then on from there. I realize that in the last several years, being involved with organizations, and pride affiliations, P-F.L.A.G. and other groups, I was always somewhat restless because what if through that somehow my father found out? That literally freaked me out. It's nice to be sitting around with friends in the house, drinking tea, discussing current events, and not be constantly on edge because someone might say the word GAY too loudly.
And although I'm not completely out (for example, I don't have huge pride symbol on my car, and I don't profess my bisexuality to strangers on the street) the experience originally created a since of euphoria that made me just want to run out and sleep with as many men as I could, because I felt more free. Thankfully, I didn't work off that impulse.
At work (I work primarily in the Entertainment Industry) I am around a lot of actors, and costuming people most of the time. People who are obviously gay, and not scared to shout it. But I still find myself reserved and not interested in sharing my orientation with the passerby's and other associates in fear that others might find out about it, and I'll have my ass thrown out.
So-- things are different, yet they're still the same. Even further outside of the closet, this society seems to keep you somewhat-happy in the corner. It seems at this time that is just the way it's meant to be.
But through all the drama, and all the experiences that I've been through thus far in the year 2000, I'm a more happy, privileged, and free bisexual male, yet I'm not flaunting my body everywhere, and I don't go into Chicago every weekend to drop some e and feel my body temperature rise at some rave. I haven't pushed myself over the limit of what I can handle, and I haven't thrown anything at the wall out of frustration.
Wazzup? I'm just chillin'. Sitting back, watchin the game, an' havin' a bud.
Aztec Yhessin [firstname.lastname@example.org] lives in South Bend, Indiana, and is yet another 20-yo-bi-dude who's beginning to find answers that he originally thought didn't exist. He loves to get e-mail from strangers, because all of his friends are getting married, having babies, or too busy shooting coke in the back room. As well, he strongly believes we should all just take a deep breath, and move on. You can visit him on the web at http://www.freespeech.org/aztec.