What happens when you are forced to re-evaluate your life, and one realizes that the life you had been living is no more? And all those parts of life, that make you, who you are, no longer apply?
When I “Came Out,” I came out into a world that was segregated, to itself. There was a particular door, I needed to walk through, and there was only one location, where that door existed, according to the man who told me this piece of information.
For the whole of my life, I consumed every piece of reading material that I could find, in the home I lived in. Reading material that I found titillating and erotic. I knew, I was Gay, before I knew what Gay was, because the media I consumed, via radio and print, was specific.
I had an idea of the life I wanted, because it was fantastical. It was, a Fantasy.
A Fantasy that would never materialize. Never …
If you are gay, sex is part of who you are. it is what we do. It is how we express love and attraction. If you were gay, then you were sexual. That was a given. And in my twenties, I was pretty, desirable, sexual. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that there was only one way into the Gay Community.
That One Way, was through a bar. A location where like minds drank and socialized.
I was told, to go to a particular bar, Uncle Charlies. A bar I knew well, later on in my story. But I went to this bar, parked my car, and set my resolve that I was going to go inside and have a couple of drinks, because I was told, that IF I DRANK, fireworks would happen.
For a decade I did that. I would go to a bar, and I would drink, and eventually, fireworks would happen. I knew, that if I showed up, people would notice me, and notice me they did.
I made numerous mistakes. I met all the wrong people. And I did stupid things, when I drank. I was a tornado in the lives of people. I became a selfish liar.
Now I know, I was sold a delusional bill of goods. Being gay, for me, was a selfish lifestyle. But it was all that I knew. because for the time being it worked for me, until it stopped working.
I never knew where I was going to end up, once I started drinking. What house I would end up in, or in who’s bed. That drinking charade lasted, until one morning at 7 a.m. I was sitting in a bar in Fort Lauderdale, and I entered into an agreement, an alcoholic agreement.
That one sexual event, was the event that changed my life. I took me a very long time, to realize that on that morning, the Proverbial Bullet was shot. And evidently, I was the target, I did not know I was the target, but in the end, it was Me who Lost.
Meanwhile, James was on his way out of this life. I had separated and began to figure out what I was going to do after falling for a serial liar and cheater. He would eventually commit suicide. I would find him five days too late.
Up till now, the fantasy life I had imagined, had yet to materialize.
One night, I decided to go to the Old Stud. A kid in jeans and t-shirt, walking into a rough and tumble leather bar. I knew, it was trouble I was looking for. I went there on purpose.
That was the night that Todd stepped out of heaven and wrecked my world.
He knew, why I was standing in his bar, with a drink in my hand. His first impression took me by surprise, but it was love at first strike.
And you know, that fantasy life I so wanted, died that night.
Todd saw fit to never allow me to entertain my darkest fantasies. Ever. He knew the trouble I sought, and in ensuing years, after I got sick, and sex all but dried up forever, he knew the trouble makers out there, and he knew that if I went there, there would be even more trouble for me. Trouble that I would never survive.
And survival was the thrust of our relationship, Todd and I. He worked very hard at making sure I lived, when everybody else died, slowly, miserably and addicted.
I got sober. Because I was dying of AIDS.
I turned my will and my life over to the care of Todd:read:God, on a nightly basis. I learned Step Three on a nightly basis. Getting sober, came in a distant second to surviving AIDS in the 1990’s.
I did stay sober. I never had sex again. I did try, but men are evil. That was a bitter lesson.
How was I going to survive as a gay man, and never have sex again? I had no idea, but as long as I had something to do, to stay out of my head, and work, I did not have time to think about sex.
When Todd moved away, and I relocated to Miami for a doctor, AA, did not welcome me. It was just the opposite. AA told me to go away and never return.
That was sick, evil, and could have killed me in the end.
When they told me to go away, my ego and my selfish pursuits rose in my throat. It consumed me, and the next decision I made, SOBER, was to pursue sex.
I pulled a geographic in sobriety. 1000 miles away. For SEX. Point. Stop.
I did not find it. However I found more addiction, drugs, and alcohol. I did not only drink, I used drugs. Until I hit the moment that the cops showed up and took me away, and sent me to a rehab house in another state to dry out and sober up.
I was there for a month.
The life I lived in the past, the life I knew, was used against me, and I almost lost my life, in the selfish pursuit I was on. You cannot have sex, with an individual who is addicted and mentally unstable. You don’t know what you don’t know, and I did not know the state of the man I was after, before I got there. it was plainly, a total surprise.
A month later, I returned to Miami. On a bus, across the United States.
I was still drinking, thankfully, I never touched another drug.
9-11 happened. And that stopped the taps for a couple of weeks.
But once we started drinking again, it only got worse. I knew I could not drink every day, so I chose to binge on Saturday nights.
At age 34 … I had pissed away four years of sobriety and was on the end of my eighteen month slip.
I would go to Salvation, a nightclub in a big hall, with big sound, and Pretty Men.
I knew the drill. Arrive at 11 p.m. wait till midnight, when the main hall opened, start drinking. At 1 a.m. the bells would ring, and the liquid nitrogen was dropped on the club, wherein men of all stripes would strip their shirts and get down to business.
I figured that if I drank, someone would notice, and sex would happen.
I did drink, until I fell down.
Somebody noticed; and got me from the club into my bed, across several weeks,
Sex never happened.
I prayed to God for the Solution. The solution came.
Troy took me to my next First Meeting, at SOBE. December 2001.
I got sober, and have been sober ever since.almost eighteen years in December.
11 months into Sobriety, I met my now husband. In short order, we dated for a month, I moved into this apartment over Christmas 2002, and I never left.
I became a Canadian Citizen on February 13th, 2003.
For a short while, before mental illness took the man I met away from me, we had sex a handful of times. As of that date, we’ve never had sex, ever again. Bi-polar medication does things to ones brain, when medicine is pounded for a year, without fail, until the correct mixture was found.
What was a sex life, became non-existent. We don’t talk about it, and we don’t have sex, it is not at the top of either of our personal lists.
Cue to April 1st, 2019.
I have the third prophetic dream and in that dream, Chastity becomes a solution. I knew, that if I did not act on this dream, I would be making a mistake. Ignoring God a third time, would end up, a wall falling down on top of me, because I ignored Him three times.
I was not going to ignore Him a third time.
It took me six months of selfish wrangling about my sex life, to finally turn it all over, and accept that I am not a sexual being any longer. I am not having sex, with anyone, because I’d never cheat on my husband. So masturbation was the constant.
A constant that had to come to an end. And I had to be ok with that.
Like I said, it took me six months to ACCEPT this little truth about myself. But Accept I did, without reservation. I turned this last portion of an old selfish idea of myself over to God, as I understand Him.
Acceptance keeps coming up in meetings, and several times over the past few months, I’ve had to eat this word, bitterly. Acceptance IS a Bitter Pill to swallow, when one realizes that the person you thought you were, when this journey began in my twenties, no longer exists. This is who I am today.
I want to rid myself of character defects and shortcomings.
Being Selfish is an old idea I really need to shed, today, and not tomorrow.
I need to believe that God has my back. No matter how hard I trust God, I still second guess Him, to my own peril.
Let’s just say that I am openly admitting my selfishness, and how ugly it is, and that I cannot abide in God and retain selfish motives or needs.
Giving up of myself totally and without reservation has to be the final Godly order.
I know what is right. I just need to believe that I can do the right thing, even if I do not want to do the right thing, because the right thing, takes away the final part of what makes me a gay man, and what will I be when I take away everything that made me who I was when I came out of the closet all those years ago ?
I have no idea. But I am on the way to finding out.
My best friend and I are participating in Locktober.
Change is coming. As long as we can see the truth.