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I first assumed I was homosexual in the 7th grade when I became memorized by Jim Ganner at first sight. He made me feel tingly inside, gave me the butterflies. At first, I thought I was just nervous around him, I’ve always been a shy fellow after all. But then the same feeling struck me again in 9th grade with Howard Stark. I thought he was so handsome. His pale freckled face, hazel eyes, chocolate brown hair and tone body. After seeing him, I went home and doddled his name with hearts around it all over my homework in pen. I did that everyday for about month, if I’m being totally honest. I told my best friend, Katie, about my suspicions. She told me I’m just over thinking it and that I probably haven't found the right girl yet. But by the third guy that ever caught my eye, I knew I was gay. I could hide it, but there was no denying my attraction to men.

All throughout high school, I continued admiring and crushing over boys who I knew I could never have. By the time I was in college, I had at least 10 different male crushes, all of which were heterosexual. My hope for love was running real thin. NO ONE in 1962 would ever come out as homosexual. Once everyone knew you were gay, they’d torment you, taunt you, bully you, disown you, even try to kill you in some places. Being gay in this decade was like a disease, a disease in which I was unfortunately caught. 

Due to all the drama and chaos my sexuality would cause, I decide I was going to keep it a secret, probably until I died. But then one day I saw you. Something about you caught my eye. I don’t if it was the fact you wore bright blue polka dot trousers, the fact you were rollerblading around campus or the fact that you wore a big, oversized shirt that read “I’m gay and I’m proud”. I just know you caught my eye. Your energy was vibrant, your confidence was loud. Everything about you made you stand out, and not only to me, to everyone on campus. You were being glared down by everyone as if you had walked into a church with a anti-christ necklace around your neck, but damn, with that shirt on you might as well have.

You skated into the John Randy building, the same building I was going too. You held the door open for me, stared me in my eyes as I walked past you and mumbled a “you’re welcome” after I stuttered a “thank you”. You followed behind, and as we walked as strangers towards the same class, whispers of passerbyers filled the hallways. Teachers, students, anyone with a mouth and a opinion slandered your name, right in front of you. I looked back to see if you were bothered by their disrespectful comments, but a smirk painted your face and your head was held high. You sarcastically greeted people, saying hi to Hanna and how’s your day to professor Kinley. You didn’t care that people were talking about you. In fact, I’m pretty sure you loved them talking about you.

You looked my way and sent me wink. A wink that made my face got from tan to red within seconds. A wink that made me fill with butterflies, just like I did with Howard Stark and Jim Ganner. A wink that made me so flustered, I sped walked to class and didn’t look back for nothing, not even for Joanne as she yelled my name at the top of her lungs, trying to get my attention.
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