April 1991

God help me.

Reading "Gay Relationships". I'm not sure if I want a relationship. I'm not ready, but then again a relationship could help me grow.

I've found dad's cash stash. I've been taking from it. I hate myself. I bought two 10,000 Maniacs CDs. Dad asked if I was taking from the jar. I acted stupid. I hate myself.

Melisa had a hit of acid so we split it. We thought nothing was happening to us until we started walking down Sheridan. We couldn't stop laughing. We sat on one corner for an hour and watched people. We walked some more. That's when we happened upon a guy in a tuxedo who was falling over and bloody. We helped him up. He said his name was John and slurred his words. We asked him where he lived so we could help him home. He said he lived on Greenleaf, but pointed in the wrong direction. He'd had way too much to drink. "Scotch," he said. Melisa and I got on either side of him and turned toward Greenleaf. I kept mouthing to Melisa that he was so cute! We walked him to his door and let him stumble up the stairs while we waited downstairs, listening. He fell. We ran up to find John passed out on the floor, the key in the door. We opened the door to his apartment and helped him in. Melisa walked him to the bathroom where he threw up spaghetti all over and around the toilet. I looked around the apartment that was decorated nicely. Art all over the walls. It seemed that he lived alone. I cleaned the blood off his face while Melisa cleaned his toilet. Then we put him to sleep on the couch. We left him a note with our names so that when he woke up he'd have a clue of what had happened. Thank God we found him. He would've never made it home alone. He could've fallen into the wrong hands that late at night. We left, leaving the hall light on for him. It was funny because while Melisa was cleaning the toilet John got up from the couch, walked to the window, lifted the screen, and spit out. It just struck me as odd as I stood there watching. He was sexy. I whispered to Melisa, 'Let's molest him.' Once we were outside I saw a parked BMW and joked that it was probably his. It was. His initials were on the plate. A UIC sticker. We felt good about having helped him and knew that we'd probably never see him again, find out who he really is, or how he ended up where he was. "It's just like rich preppies," Melisa had said as he'd passed out on the couch. She's right. We saw drunk preppies all over Sheridan that night. Alcohol sucks! I guess it was all meant to happen. Maybe Mel and I are angels…

Well, I've done it. It just happened. I told dad that I'm gay. Who cares how it came up? It just did. My heart beat fast and hard. He just said that his son could not be gay, and that I must have been influenced. I expected such ignorance. I was ready for it. But I'm angry, grieving. We smoked together. He said that he still loves me. I said that I told him because I respect and love him. He wants me to go to California right after graduation and stay with mom, get away from my friends here. He thinks it'll heal me, or something. I feel bad for him, and I'm hurt. But I'm ready for it all. I'm proud of myself. I didn't even have a lover to support me. I had to leave the apartment afterward. Picked up Mel and we drove around. She was supportive. But God, I'm scared. What will life be like from here on? It'll go on, I know that. On my own. I can be strong. I said to him, 'Whoever can't accept me can go to hell.' I have to work hard to become someone.

Dad told me that he wasn't able to sleep. Like I'm a burden. We had our little argument. I always know when we are about to fight and hate the moments leading up to the screaming more than the screaming itself. In Art class I talked to Ms. Brown about it. She was cool and supportive. People, though, tell me things that I already know which doesn't make it any better. Melisa and I grilled food and had fun, but later I broke down. Mel came in and closed the door. She held me. I cried because I'm only seventeen and so much shit has already happened. I cried because my mom is far away and doesn't know what's happening to her son. I cried because I'm scared and lonely in this, no matter how many friends I have. Smoked a joint. Took two hits and I was gone. I don't want anyone's help. I just want myself to be there. Thank God for Melisa.

It's 5:23 p.m. and I hope dad never comes home. I know things need to be dealt with but not now. Maybe in a week. I want to go away for a few days. But that would hurt his feelings. I want a job. Independence. Rachel said I could stay with them for the summer. Am I regretting telling dad? Do I hate him? I do hate him, but for selfish reasons. When I told dad about Rachel's offer he said, "Oh, so you can be gay?" Can you believe he said that? How ignorant. "Ever since you told me I haven't been able to work." 'Are you blaming me?' I started crying and ran out. Everything he said is hurtful but I will not blame him. Brandon, Lisa, and I smoked pot all night. We had a good time. We laughed. Didn't do it to be rebellious. Did it because I wanted to.

I almost didn't go to school, but forced myself. I can't believe this is happening. Bad dream? But I don't wake up. I told Melisa that she's the most wonderful caring person I know. It's true. We videotaped ourselves dancing around the living room. Dad came home. He joined us. We danced. It's on tape. We kissed. Then he left for his sister's. I was so happy that he'd been friendly. Later dad and I talked. There was a beer in the fridge and we split it. I lit a cigarette and the conversation began. He said that he doesn't want me to make any final decisions about being gay and to give myself time. It's understandable that he'd say that, but at the same time it pisses me off. I've worked hard to get this far. I told him that this is not the wrong path for me, that God made me like this and that I love God, that God loves me. He disagreed. Anger. Patience. Where can I turn? Fuck him if he can't accept this. I'm not going to let anyone ruin my life. I'll make it on my own. I'll show him that I'm still a man!

They gave me detention for a week because I wore a t-shirt to school. But then let me off because I helped an old lady to the rectory. She was confused and thought it was Sunday. I wondered what it would be like to come back to all this at an old age. What memories would come back? Who would I think about most? It's hard to believe that we'll all get old. Desiree and I went out to dinner for her nineteenth birthday. We ate and drank beer at Buddies. Dad wants me to get therapy. It's all in the book "Coming Out To Parents". I know all his moves.

At school I went down and talked to a counselor. I told her my basic life story. She talked about her own gay cousin and how her family dealt with it. She knows I'm doing well but recommended I get therapy to help me get through this. I just don't feel I need it. It wouldn't hurt, I suppose. I got a job at a card shop where Lisa works and started tonight. I worked five to nine at night. It felt strange. I've just worked for the first time in my life! I get paid $4.25/hour.

I was walking to my car when I heard a woman screaming. As I walked on I saw an old woman lying on her side, crying. I looked up and saw a small black kid turn the corner into an alley, a purse under his arm. I started running, but by the time I got to the corner he was gone. Those fuckers are fast! The woman's cries for help made me want to cry. Doesn't the kid have a religion? A heart?

I have an empty feeling inside like I wasted my day away. I get so mad at myself.

I just watched the movie "Nuts". It was intense. I cried. Barbara was Jewish and great! It reminded me of being at the institution for those couple days, trying to convince people that I wasn't crazy.

Mr. Fournier said that those who participate in the walk-a-thon would get extra credit. I said that was 'bullshit!' That it was unfair and that his real intentions were to bribe the students. Later I said I was sorry and he apologized, too. Picked up Santi on the way to school. "You look great!" he said. I wondered how that was possible since I'd only gotten three hours of sleep the night before. He said that the school was cutting down on Religion teachers and he was being let go, but that he had another job interview. He sounded excited. Then he said that we should party when I graduate. But I'm not too sure about that. Desiree and I went to Hunters. We drank beer in my car beforehand and talked about everything- the government, her father, Maggie, school, Salvador Dali, and sex! We almost didn't get into the bar, but made it. The hot guy was there… with someone else. But he kept looking at me. We drank more. We were both so happy. I had a tingly feeling all over. I was happy, horny, and buzzed. We couldn't stop smiling. Desiree and I were dancing when someone she knew pulled her away. I danced alone. An older black guy started to dance with me. At first he was cool, but then he started touching me. I danced slowly away from him. Then he told me, "I love you." I went to Desiree for help. She joined me again on the dance floor. The man leaned in and told Desiree he liked me. He asked if I wanted something other than beer to drink. Why couldn't he be the hot guy? I wondered to myself. I drove home drunk. I'm stupid.

Desiree and I went out to a suburb to visit two of her friends. They're druggies. They made it look so o.k. as they smoked pot and hashish. I took a hit of each, but got no buzz, no nothing. Thank God. What disgusted me most was Desiree's friend letting the dog lick the food off his fingers, then feed the baby right afterward, and continue to eat his own meal without ever stopping to wash his hands. I was ready to throw up. I sound angry. I'm not. I liked them.

Tracy had a party. We got drunk. Brandon came over and got us high. Loretta was there with a bunch of her friends. God, I babbled. I love to talk and entertain. Guess I've come a long way since last year. It's funny when you see someone handsome or beautiful you assume that they're automatically wonderful. Then you talk to them and get to know them and they turn out to be normal like the rest of us. I like that.

I called Santi like I'd promised. He wanted me to help him paint his new apartment, which was open and bright. Let me try to remember what he said and did… Well, he wore really tight jeans and we listened to music while we painted. He asked again when I turn eighteen. He said, "I don't want to seduce you or anything, but would it be illegal?" I told him that yes it would be! I mean, I'm not even supposed to buy cigarettes. We walked to the store to get something to drink and I was really uncomfortable. He's so gay. I liked him more when I didn't know him. He wanted to lye down for a while so we went into the bedroom where there was only a rug. I sat next to him and smoked a cigarette as he talked. I felt so sad for him as he talked about not having or knowing what he wants. And as he lay there I wanted to kiss him because he looked like he needed someone. For the first time in his presence I wasn't afraid to speak. I talked a lot. Is it that I don't want him like I used to? We got pretty deep. We talked about love, life, and the other teachers at school. I want him to meet my friends. I saw a patch of hair on his back and told him. He said that he didn't have a hairy back. "Show me!" I pointed to the scattered patches under his t-shirt. He wanted me to touch him. I wish I wanted him like I used to.

All day at school I was confused. My thoughts were mangled up somewhere. I can't just go with the flow. I have to know what I'm doing. Otherwise, I'm lost. I'm too young for lists and structure. I sat there in class and worried. For the first time in a long time I wished I were straight. There's no way I'm going to start thinking that way again. Not now. I have to be strong. Can I get over this homophobia? What will happen to me when my circle of accepting friends is gone? What a life.

I talked to my aunt Jackie who's now in the Bay Area. When I told her I'm thinking of going into fashion design in college she said, "Just don't turn gay." And stupid me said, 'Don't worry, I won't. I will have to deal with them, though.' What a copout! Betrayal. I hate myself. What was I supposed to say, though? My head is full of thoughts. My hand hurts from writing. I just want to make the best of life.

The school year is almost over. I can't believe it. All those years of literal hell, and for what? I ask you. Desiree and I got into a stupid fight and we didn't talk all the rest of the day. During study period I wanted to go down to the counseling office, but Cozgrove wouldn't let me. I said that Ms. O' Connor had told me I could go down anytime during a free period. "I can't give you a pass into the halls," he said. I went up to him a second time and again he turned me down. I wanted to break something. I threw my stuff into my bag and yelled, 'If I want to go to the counseling office I will! There is a fucking problem!' The class got silent. Kathy was like, "Emil." I got up and Cozgrove pulled out his detention slips. I left. Fuck them! Spent the rest of the day with Melisa. Got really stoned.

I apologized. I went to the teacher's lounge in the morning and apologized to Cozgrove. I told him that although I felt I was right I should not have lost control. Melisa and I smoked a roach in the car. I love getting stoned with her. I love pot. I used to be so anti-drugs. I'm fine, don't worry. There's so much I want. I'm so materialistic. California, Europe, clothes, drawing and writing, poems, books, and stories, being responsible and good-looking, tapes, records, CDs, school, work, dad, mom, men, friends, money, dreams are all on my mind. Everything branches out. Being young is wonderful. I love it. I'll miss it. I want to live it up, wear it out!

I tried to make contact with Desiree but she wouldn't talk to me. And as far as relationships go I think it's hopeless. I can't have a relationship when I'm so unsure of everything.