It's long and sad, and I've recently learned things that have been fucking with me a lot these last couple days. I've been contemplating posting this anyway because my best friend said it might be helpful to get I off my chest though so here goes. I'm sorry if this makes you cry, both of my best friends cried when I told them. I'm going to copy and paste what I sent them after I came out as bisexual. I edited some of it because their was personal info like names and such.
The first guy I ever was with sexually and the only one I was in a relationship with was the first friend I ever had. He moved away after first grade and I didn't hear a word from him again for ten years. Fast forward to 2002, I was 17 and very insecure and in denial about being bisexual and liking guys in general.
One fateful night he comes back into my life, says he thought about me daily since we were kids and still remembered my home phone number. He said it was a long story why he never called which made me wonder; but after spending time with him over a couple days. The way he was acting towards me, I fell for him... Hard.
We were together for a few weeks, and those were the best weeks of my life, and I was in the beginning of a relationship with the first person that ever became my friend when I was a kid. It felt like a dream or something you'd read in a book. He told me why he never called. His dad often left on what was considered regular multiple-day long benders; and he was terrified of what would happen when his dad came back home. Apparently his dad would get good and loaded then beat the everloving shit out of him and his mom. He showed me the scars,some were pretty bad. So being the overprotective guy that I am, I went to stay for a couple nights. Thinking the drunken bastard might leave them alone and go sleep it off if there was company there.
The night we lost our virginity is where things turned from amazing to horrible. We didn't expect his dad that night because he had only been gone one day. His mom was at work also. So things got pretty heated and we ended up having sex in his room. We never heard his dad pull in the driveway or come in the house and I don't know how long he had been there while we were having sex. He must have heard us though because out of nowhere there's his dad pulling me off of his son forcefully, which hurt us both because i was topping him and I was all the way in at that point. His dad and I fought briefly. He punched me in the face, leaving that scar you asked me about under my right eye, and I didn't pull any of my punches towards him. Then his dad left to get a gun from his room. I know this because he said I'm gonna fucking shoot you, you faggot fuck! My boyfriend grabbed our clothes and we left, running out to his car naked and drove back to my place.
I couldn't convince him to stay with me and I was afraid of my parents finding out about us at the same time. I was selfish and still trying to hide our relationship. We spent hours together out in the desert nearby at our spot. I didn't want him to go back without me. He wouldn't stay at my parents and he wouldn't let me go back to his house. He eventually went back home around sunrise thinking his dad would have passed out and would sleep it off and not remember.
I waited nervously by my phone without sleep all that day and nothing. Evening came and still nothing, no sign of him. Around 9pm I get a call, it was his number lit up on the caller ID my heart jumped and I answered on the next ring. It wasn't him, it was his mother and she was crying. She asked who she was speaking with and when I told her my name she said the single most devastating words I've heard in my life. "You killed my son! My sons dead because of you! He killed himself this morning after telling me he was a faggot just like you! You killed my baby! You corrupted him with you're gay evil ways! You're gonna burn in hell and my son will burn in hell too thanks to you!" She slammed the phone down and it was like hearing my heart shatter into a million pieces. He's dead? No, no, no! This can't be happening! She's lying, she has to be! I called and called with no answer. Finally after an hour or longer of trying someone picked up. It was his dad and he said something that again has haunted me for these last 13 years. "My faggot kid, hung himself from his pull up bar with a belt that didn't belong to him. I'm guessing you forgot that when you ran out after fucking him in my house" then he hung up. I put down the phone and went to my room. I never spoke of him, and I tried so hard to not think about him. I spent a week in bed not eating barely drinking or sleeping. I mainly just lay there wishing I never fell for him. He'd be alive if I hadn't.
If you've read this far, I don't know you or if you believe in soul mates or kindred spirits. Well I do, and mine died that night.
For thirteen years I've carried this knowledge, this overwhelming guilt. Never speaking a word about him or even mentioning his name when my mother asked me if I remembered who that thoughtful little boy was back in first grade. I acted as if I couldn't remember him and I hated myself for it because I felt like I was betraying him every single time I did it.
The last few days have been bittersweet to say the least. I finally opened up to somebody. I told my best friends today that I was bisexual. His boyfriend already seemed to know somehow. Then I told my best friend about him...
I've never been able to shed a tear in my life but I felt like I was crying even though no tears came from my eyes as I told this to him. He cried plenty for both of us. He then said something I never thought about in all the years of guilt and self hatred I've harbored silently without a person to lean on or share it with. He said, "are you sure he killed himself?" "Did you see an obituary or hear of a funeral for him at all?" No I haven't. It never occurred to me that maybe they were actually lying. I thought I was in denial about it all. I googled his name, our home town, the obituaries for that year; nothing came up. He told me to try Facebook. So I did, and the first person to come up under his name was him, same state, different county, but the same features and green eyes. He grew up, he's alive and well, married with a young daughter.
I don't know what to do. I'm relieved he's alive, but again no contact whatsoever and no attempt at even doing so. These last thirteen years, the entirety of my 20's is gone and I've been fighting continual bouts of depression and thoughts of suicide over this. Is there anybody out there who has experienced something like this? I don't feel like I can let this go, but I also won't create any problems for him by contacting him. He has a young daughter and I won't create any unnecessary stress that might effect her. In the off chance he may be simply waiting for me as my friend says is a possibility no matter how slim of a chance I believe that to be. I can't act on it if I'm not sure it won't effect his family negatively. We both been through hell as kids and I refuse to be responsible for any bad or negative fallout in his daughters life by contacting him.