Dear Jack,
I can only think of a few times in which I felt I was actually satisfied with who I was. I felt the majority of my life I have felt inadequate to not only everyone else's expectations, but to my own, and especially God's.
My early life consisted of me playing with my stuffed animals and Zach, my Doberman. When I was first brought home, I’m told that Zach sniffed my buggy. My mom took him by the snout and said, “This is your puppy too.” From that point on, I’m told he would watch over me, and would growl if you tried to take me away from him.
Regardless, I used to play in his pen with him and pretended I was his puppy. I also used to play Winnie-the-pooh in my yard with my stuffed animals. I know I also took my matchbox cars and would make roads in the grass for which to drive them and run over black ants.
I am told that when I was very little, I invited myself to my neighbor's sandbox. I don't remember this, so if I was too young to remember, then that means my brothers were babysitting me, and were neglecting my whereabouts. Regardless, I met Daniel G. He lived next store to me and we played "fort" together. Occasionally his sister Elizabeth would join in. I remember we used to have all kinds of fun. Winnie-the-Pooh was his favorite story book too.
I lived on 6145 Jefferson Road. I used to sing a little jingle to the address. I went to McKinley Elementary School of Ashtabula Ohio. I do not remember my teacher’s name, but I went to school in the morning and Daniel went in the afternoon. I remember walking a girl named Jamie home and getting in trouble because I crossed a big street by myself.
I remember that when we moved to Georgia, I really missed him. Upon leaving the house for the last time, he and I said, "See you later, Alligator." "After 'while, Crocodile" over and over again as we cried. This was mid-kindergarten.
In Georgia I recall going to class and being the only one able to read. I liked to build with the blocks. Naptime was the worst time because I never wanted to sleep. In the first grade I met Adriana D. She was tall and had brown hair with a ponytail. Adriana lived in a mansion. I recall one time when I brought her and her father to my house. I wasn't ashamed of our poverty--it didn’t cross my mind yet. The next year she went away to a private school, and I never saw her again.
In the trailer park where I lived, there was a girl who lived across the street, Jennifer Rene Lynn Jones. Jennifer was mildly retarded and mixed up her Ws and Rs. We would pretend to be fairies and collected pine cones, sticks, nuts, etc. for food and potions.
In first grade, Zach died, but we had a puppy, Caesar--he was a Great Dane. Sometime between first and second grade, I changed. I became aware that I was poor, and few around me were. I recall going to a Baptist church with Jennifer (Belmont Baptist... it would pick us up in a bus). I remember telling the minister there, that I had plans of being a priest... an Episcopal one. I have no idea why I said this, other than I felt I would be a minister. I always loved church. I loved asking questions and getting answers too.
Sometime during second grade, I began to gain weight. and with that, a dislike for myself. Now I was apart of a soccer team then--club soccer--on scholarship. Few have been told, but I was actually good at it. I don't know why I keep this knowledge clandestine, but I do. Every summer I would go to Ohio. This summer I was visiting Daniel and another neighborhood friend, Sean. I began preaching on Sean's porch to the kids in the neighborhood about the end times. (I had a fascination with them). I told them about the beast and all the things that I had learned in the SBC. My emphasis was on how we need to know Jesus. Being in 3rd grade, I am sure I was off with much I said. Sean's mother did not appreciate my preaching, and yelled at me, telling me it is inappropriate and wrong to do. Her family was Jewish--non practicing.
In the fourth grade, I made the acquaintance of Kevin Osborne. He lived in the trailer park near Jennifer and I. I recall he was taller than me, slender, and had bucked teeth. His nose bled often, and he never clipped his finger nails. We had many similar interests... especially Boy Scouts.
Kevin's father used to abuse him physically. For a few years (4th and 5th grade) Kevin lived with us as my brother. I recall loving the fact of a brother my own age (since all my brothers are 12+ years older than me). He was someone I could relate to. Occasionally I would be jealous of his attention.
My mother got throat cancer that year from smoking (it began in the summer with an ear ache). By December, she had had a surgery which removed her vocal cords and put a puncture in her throat. That same year, Kevin and Jennifer both moved away. I have never seen or heard from either since.
I recall feeling very down and depressed. I still played with my toy cars in the yard, and Ceasar was getting bigger. I must say, that I never feared the death of Mom. I knew she would be fine. I felt that God had told me so. Indeed it wasn't her time. Needless to say, I have never smoked because of it.
About this time, the local Episcopal priest, Charles Davis, noticed my mother's name on his list as the chaplain of the hospital. He came by to see us, my mom being raised Episcopalian, and we began to attend St. Simon's Episcopal Church.
6th grade sent me to Edwards Middle School. Our trailer park was the only part of my elementary school which was sent there. I had at this point dropped soccer for Boy Scouts. I was still getting fat, yet my greatest anxiety came from me being from a poor family in a trailer park.
I found it hard to make friends. The kids at EMS were ruthless. I was the target of many jokes. I learned a term that year---fagot. I was called one, but had no idea what it was for a while. I thought it had to do with being poor, or from being a Yankee.
In school, my terror was a boy named John Garber. He would go out of his way to terrorize me for my weight and poverty. I recall always being picked on or beat up. I hid most of this from my family, and I don't think they even know. Now I never did let it get me down, as I knew I had Jesus as a friend. And he at least loved me.
In 7th grade, my mother got cancer again. This time it was on her face from working with fiberglass in a factory when she was younger. My teacher was Mrs. Robbins. She was wonderful. I had a strong interest in the Church, and was confirmed. I also had an interest in Hebrew and Latin, along with Star Trek, which I happened upon one night.
In Boy Scouts, I became the Chaplain's Aide, and was in charge of devotionals. I knew very little about appropriateness of these things, and celebrated communion with sliced bread and grape juice. I did this until I happened upon the fact that only ordained people are supposed to do this. I felt very guilty about it. I never knew why my leaders never told me.
About this time I noticed, secretly, a difference in who I was compared to how others expressed themselves. While other boys started expressing interests in girls, I did not share it. I, by this point, knew what a "fagot" was and deep down knew that I was closer to them, than to the boys I schooled with. Being previously Baptist, I knew what the Bible literally said about being gay. Thus the greatest fear entered my head--God must not love me. I re-read much of what the Bible said and saw that being gay was an abomination... and in one instance punishable by death. This played hard on me. I had few friends as it was, being gay wouldn't help that, plus Jesus now didn't love me. Thus I began to fear being alone. Not having anyone at all.
I grew to hate myself---poor, fat, unpopular, religious (which meant I was weird to most people), and now feeling an attraction to men.
Logically, I told no one. I didn't even want to admit it to myself. My self loathing grew worse over time. Then over the summer of my 7th year, things improved, as I moved across town. We left the trailer park, and moved into a house (1475 Oak Forest Way). This meant a new school, and a new life--free from previous terrors, and no John Garber.
At Memorial Middle School, my new school, I wanted to make a new life. I did not entertain any ideas of expressing my gay feelings. I made friends with a girl named Melissa, and another named Joy R. The two were my best friends in 8th grade. By the end of the year, I had gotten to know Joy very well, and thought... maybe... just maybe I could try a relationship. She invited me to her birthday party (which turned into her, me and her mother) at Outback Steakhouse. We saw each other on friendly basis over the summer. The next year, the first of HS (Salem High), I worked up the courage and asked her out... in the usual fashion that most adolescents work "If you like me, check yes.. if not check no"... that old chestnut.
I feared expressing any type of physical "love" to her. Mainly because the idea of being with a woman did nothing for me, and also because I had no earthly idea how to act. Eventually after a month, we held hands. Then I came to a point where I tried to kiss her. Unfortunately she had a reaction to this.
Within a week of me kissing her, she seemed to act depressed, and I learned of a depression she was suffering from her childhood, and how it was manifesting in confusion at the time. Of course I thought it was because of me. Our romantic relationship... if it was so called, ended there. We remained good friends for the next part of the school experience.
I decided the best thing to do would be to live a celibate life as a minister, and avoid having to deal with sex or attractions all together. This dumbfounded many a high school boy who would often pick on me, and be confused.
In 10th grade I went to Russia, and that was fun. I will not forget it. I went on scholarship from the school, and met a good friend Dmitry Gitlin with whom I still keep in touch.
In 11th grade, I began to work with the school theatre. Here, I found people who respected me, and didn't think poorly of me. None of them were gay, to my knowledge, and none of them treated me badly...of course none knew how I felt. Eventually they grew to be a family of friends who looked after me in the 12th grade. During that year, I had grown to love choir (which I accidentally joined).
While on a choir trip, I saw a young man get his face blown off less than 10 feet from the car where I was sitting with a few friends. I felt very shaken at seeing this. I shall never forget what terror I felt. One with me suggested that the shooter was a student from school. This did not help things. Especially when later the student had been accused.... and he thought the accusation came from me. I had very little understanding with how to deal with what I saw. This was another low point in my life. The priest, Fr. Lynn Watts, was of no help. I found very little comfort from anyone including Joy. I wanted some type of comfort and only found it in my youth minister Paige Howell and the counseling secretary also named Page. I had to readjust my school schedule to avoid that person. Slowly I began to mentally recover.
Later this year, thankfully, Joy and I also went to Germany. We stayed in Aachen. I lived with the Siemes family. It was one of the best experiences of my life. The chaperon stunk.
My friendship with Joy was still strong, and many thought we were dating, even though we were not. I n 12th grade she had a fit which sent her to a hospital for some time. She nearly dropped out . I did not know how to react. I felt somehow responsible. For in my mind... everything was set off by a simple peck on the cheek that I gave her. I sought solace in the Church and in the theatre I grew to love.
As the end of my senior year drew to a close, I had been in two of the plays, one of which I was the main character, Professor Abraham Van Helsing in Dracula. Over the summer our thespian group was invited to perform as the American representative to the international thespian conference for Amadeus... which I had been on stage crew for. It was wonderful.
I was accepted to Presbyterian College...and thus I did not apply to any other institution. I do not know why. But I felt that PC would be the best place for me. Joy went to Wingate, and I lost contact with the rest of my other friends (for the most part).
At PC I could again start anew. No one even had to know of my poor background. Unfortunately John Garber happened to choose PC too. I prayed and figured God would provide. JG has to this day, not been a problem for me.
PC was paid for by complete scholarship...multiple ones mind you, but paid for. I was to be a music major focusing on voice. I still felt my calling to the priesthood. I still felt my attraction to men. I still hid it from everyone, although I did begin to hint it with Joy, who at this point, had just begun being my very best friend. I met Caleb B. and Kevin C. my freshman year. They both lived on my freshman hall. I took the name Chap from a Boy Scout nickname as there were three James on the hall. I presented myself as a rather conservative Episcopalian, to the point of making some liberals angry at me. I still was rather a liberal compared to Freddy R., with whom I would have many a deep conversation about morality with at night.
I grew a disliking for the only openly gay person there... Scott M. I found his flamboyancy disgusting, and I am sure I harbored some hate towards him for being open, when I myself could not be. The Sophomore Year, Caleb and I roomed with each other in the Carol International House. I had begun to get close to Danielle F. too. By April of that year, I had begun to tell Caleb of my feelings. He respected me for them, and told me that he would pray that things work out for me...especially for my mental pain. He became my first real good friend at PC.
I thought I was bitter my sophomore year, and many friends attest to this also. I do not know why. But I was. I was also very active in the choir, and felt very much used by the department. I did a lot of grunt work, with very little recognition. Over the summer of my sophomore year, I worked at Kanuga Conferences, Inc. There, by the end of the summer, I had begun to reconcile myself to my homosexuality. I came to PC not knowing what to expect.
So I came to PC for my Junior Year. My roommate was to be a guy named Gavin from Northern Ireland. I knew nothing of who he was. Rooming with him wasn't too bad until he found out I was gay. He, through deception and complaining, had us change rooms. No sweat off of my back, for I was switched to room with Caleb again. I had made it a point to start meeting people in the freshman class. I met most importantly, a boy named Daniel W. In mid October I learned that he was bisexual and told him how I was gay. We exchanged this information while we drove the van for Scots Blue Line. We started hanging out a lot. Since all who I cared about knew I was gay (other than my parents and family), I didn't see the sense in hiding it, and on All Saint's Day, I came out officially. About Mid October I started to get migraines. I thought little of them, as I had gotten them before. Now they were a little more common.
Throughout November, Daniel and I got to know each other very well. He began to flirt with me, and I with him. I was unsure how to take most of this. I discussed a possible relationship with him, and he would reply, “I’m not ready to come out, but if I do, I would date you for sure.” This meant a lot to me. We would spend many nights just chatting. He occasionally would stay in my dorm room, on the futon of course. I never wanted to make Caleb feel awkward.
The weekend before Thanksgiving, was the Westminster Fellowship retreat. Daniel and I skipped it. Instead he stayed in my room. We stayed up talking about different aspects of our lives. I was feeling stuff that I had never felt before. I was excited that I had someone to share this with. I did not know what to expect between the two of us. I just loved the fact that there was someone I could share how I felt with, unashamedly.
Over Thanksgiving Daniel changed his mind and became "straight". He had spoken with his parents and was told that "Just because you find men attractive... it only means you're gay if you act on it", and since he didn‘t plan on acting on it, he must not be gay right now.
After Christmas break, he came back and was bisexual again. He decided it was pure denial to say otherwise. He became more verbal on his bisexuality to our friends, which didn't help them and their suspicions that something was going on between him and I. Specifically he came out to a group of people on my birthday.
On the 21 of January he and I shared a private moment with each other waiting for it to snow in Clinton. We had stayed up all night waiting for the snow. I had had an argument with Caleb over something and was planning on staying in the loft of CIH. Daniel came to join me. He played his guitar and sang to me. Usually he would sing Bridge Over Troubled Waters. After taking a walk in the snow we came back to the loft. He and I began a phase of our relationship on that night.
We did not want anyone to know, as it seemed that people were already eating up any gossip of the two of us hanging out with each other. Jill Walker and Audra Aliberti with a drunk Caleb Bryant even pulled a prank where they put "Give me and S, Give me an E, Give me an X... what does that spell? What is going on in the room with Daniel and Chap!" This was a moment when he and I became very upset. We had not had sex. We were not touchy-feely in front of people, and we did not feel we were deserving of the comments. That night he and I did share a moment with each other, well after the pranksters had gone to bed. Caleb slept in Jay’s room because he was extremely drunk, and I had locked him out because of that and his participation in the prank.
My migraines continued, as did our relationship. There were times where I missed many days of school because of the headaches, and I sought help from Dr. Saddler. She suggested they were cluster migraines caused by stress. From the advice of professors and Dr. Saddler I started seeing Dr. Stidham, a professor who acted as the psychologist for the school. She helped me begin to put things in line. I found out I had a lot of anxiety about my relationship with Daniel, hiding it, being gay, hiding it, etc. About this time my mother expressed to me that she felt like she might hurt her self... to the point of taking her life. This hit me hard. I knew she was depressed, but not to what extent. I didn't know what to do. In telling Daniel about it, he took my feelings and placed them upon himself. And that wasn't healthy for him... he needed to escape that, and told Dr. Stokes that he and I needed to not room with each other when the Choir toured England during the Spring.
Actually he didn't tell him specifically... it got told to him via an acquaintance known as Mitchell S. Dr. Stokes became weary of the situation and called me into his office to discuss whether or not I should even go on the trip. Stokes said I was under suicide watch and that I might not be permitted to go since it would be a liability for the school. I was pissed. Other comments he said included, “Daniel has expressed that he doesn’t want to room with you, and if he doesn’t, who will? I have heard that he’s even afraid you will come on to him in the night. Oh and there are other roomers still that there might be something going on between the two of you--just so you know the UK is more conservative than the US, and any PDA will not be tolerated.” I was pissed beyond all belief. Why would Daniel be afraid if he and I were dating? Where was this incorrect gossip coming from? Why doesn’t Dr. Stokes believe me?
These comments he made really upset me and I left and went straight to see Dr. Stidham. Dr. Stidham played umpire and set up a meeting where she moderated between Stokes, myself, and one of the Asst. Deans, Mark Shook. It ended up that I was going provided I didn't bother Daniel with my stresses. This meant we were to not room, and I was to not approach him unless asked to by him. Daniel was upset with this, and so was I. He said, I did not need to have permission to come up to him, but he just couldn't handle the stress of me with my mom. I understood that with no problem.
In London we hung out. He even ended up sleeping in my room...which was a shock to my roommates who had no idea what was going on. Dr. Stokes apparently got word and for the next day he made an announcement to the crew... "Do not sleep in rooms that you are not assigned to" and he did not change Daniel and me from rooming with each other afterwards.
Back at PC after the trip, my migraines began to subside as a new medicine took effect. Daniel and I began to prepare for the fact that he and I would not be seeing each other for a long time, as he was not coming back to PC. We had a good few weeks where our relationship was extremely rocky. I became very emotional and unsound. I began to recover as the semester drew to an end. The very last night of us at PC I stayed with him in his room for one last time.
I have not seen him sense. Subsequently he has recently stopped talking to me online. This really hurts, as I do not know why. Danielle F. tried to find out, but he would not tell her his reasoning. I think he is trying to get rid of his feelings of being bisexual, and I was bringing them back each time I spoke to him. I've gotten to a point where I do need to move on. Yet I find it hard. He was the first love of my life. He was the first guy I did sexual things with. He was the first person to show an interest in ME as someone in a relationship. Although I know the relationship was a stress, and I know I put more into it than he did. I cannot regret it. I needed it. I needed it to end the way it did. For now I know what it is like, and I can move on.
For the summer I worked at Kanuga Conferences. I have been able to meet Lord George Carey, the retired Archbishop of Canterbury. That was my highlight of my work. I have plans to keep in contact with him. On the 19th I left for Oxford... and the Journal keeps every thing else up to date.
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