The Glance -- Chapter 10
John woke up slowly. It was darker outside, the light filtered in through the windows shaded with the colors of sunset; reds, purples, oranges,dark blues, all chased dark cloud shapes outside his windows. What was he doing in bed? He didn't remember going to bed. He became aware of a body nestled up to his, a warm furry fuzziness against his back, following his spine all the way down, legs entwined with his. There was an arm around his chest, holding him firmly. It felt so comforting. A musky odor floated up into his consciousness. It was Chuck. Suddenly it all came flooding back -- the mirror, the overwhelming emotions, and then nothing, just darkness. What had happened? He stirred, just a little, and knew, somehow, that Chuck was awake.
"I'm here, sweetheart. It's OK."
Chuck began stroking his chest, long, slow movements which flowed from chest to crotch and back, again and again. John felt his breathing deepening, slowing, felt himself beginning to stir. He turned over to face Chuck in the bed, reaching for him. He clutched Chuck, trying to melt into his warmth, his safety, nestling his face into that warm chest fur, cupping Chuck's strong butt cheeks with his hand, pulling him closer. As Chuck continued to stroke him, nuzzling his neck, head, kissing him gently, he felt himself beginning to relax, to melt into the safety of those strong arms.
"Oh Chuck. It was awful. All those years...," his voice trailed off into a heavy silence.
"It's OK. I'm here."
The silence stretched on. Finally, John sighed, a huge, heavy sigh, filled with years of sadness and regret. It was as if he was letting go of a heavy weight he had been carrying for so long that he didn't even know it was there. Chuck's arms curled protectively around him helped him to feel safe and he could begin to reflect back on his life without fear. He was enough of a therapist himself to know how important it was to face the past.
"It's been so long," John began. "I didn't even realize how much I had hidden -- from others -- and from myself as well. I knew God was calling me to ministry way back, probably about the same time that I knew I was gay." He laughed a bit. "How astonishing that the two biggest forces in my life should come to the surface at the same time! I felt drawn to God so strongly. I wanted to serve God, to be with God, to feel God filling my life and soul. Everywhere I looked, I could see the hand of God around me -- in people, in beauty, in nature, in art, in everything. God was, and I wanted to be with God. At the same time, I saw beauty in boys, in men. I wanted to be with them, too. I loved the muscles, the smoothness. I loved the strength. I loved men's minds, what they could talk about and men's souls, what little I could understand about that. I loved men.
And I didn't know what to do with both those things. God seemed to inhabit the Church, so I thought I needed, I wanted, to become a priest and serve God in the Church. Even though I could see God everywhere, the Church seemed to be the best place to find God. And I wanted friends, male friends, special friends. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I knew that's what I wanted."
John fell silent for a while, Chuck's hands soothing him, giving him comfort as he worked to bring up old memories and face them.
"We're so screwed up about sex and relationships. The other guys at school talked about girls. Somehow, I just knew I couldn't talk with them about boys. But there was no one else to talk with. It was clear at the church that I couldn't talk there." He snorted, "I couldn't talk about straight sex much less gay sex. So, I began to hide. I could talk about God, a little. But that's not really something boys talk about with each other. `What do you want to do when you grow up? Oh, I want to be a priest.' No, that's not something we talk about, so I began to hide that, too. So there I am, in my teens, with both these strong drives going on and I felt I had to hide -- hide from everyone. No one wanted to know the real me."
"You know, going off to college was a relief. I was away from home, and no one knew me. I could begin to look at things, to experiment. It wasn't so bad being gay at college. There were lots of other guys there, too, just like me, trying to figure things out. We could get together and give each other support. There were older guys there, too, some professors, some grad students, and they could guide us a bit." He laughed, remembering, "Sometimes they wanted to guide us a bit too personally, but that was kind of fun, too. At least it was someone to talk with, and that was good. I could get involved in things, learn a bit about how to be a gay man."
"But, while that part was getting easier, it still wasn't easy to talk about God. Most of the gay guys had given up on the Church, and God. The older grad students and even professors were pretty bitter about it. And the religious students were even worse! Maybe I was just unlucky, but the guys who identified as religious were all pretty conservative. God forbid, literally, that I talk about being gay with those guys. They would have tried to pray it out of me."
"So there I was, trying to put two parts of me together, and having to hide one part from the other. It was pretty awful."
John sighed, unaware that tears were running down his cheeks again. He fell silent, lost in his memories and pain. Chuck continued to hold him, trying to give John some of his own strength, hoping that it would somehow pass through his arms into John by some sort of psychic osmosis. He knew from his own experience some of the pain that John was remembering, but it had never been this bad. He had not had this incredible struggle between the two halves of his own soul. He could feel just how awful this had been for John, and perhaps still was.
"Somewhere along the line, I made the choice to be a priest. It felt as if I were giving something up, as if I were denying a really fundamental and important part of myself. But I just didn't see what else I could do. Whichever way I went, I was going to give up part of myself. If I was going to be a priest, then I needed to give up being gay. If I was going to be gay, then I needed to give up being a priest. I agonized over that for a long time, for years, and then I chose."
"Going to seminary turned out to be tough, too. Seems I wasn't the only gay wannabe priest in the seminary. And all of us were struggling with the same sorts of issues. So where did we turn for comfort? Each other."
He laughed again, and looked up at Chuck with a smile, "Don't let anyone ever try to tell you that there's no sex in seminary. Put a bunch of randy guys in their 20's together and you get sex. The straight guys got girlfriends, and if they were too guilty about it, they got married. The gay guys got each other, or went out to the bars together. There was sex, and guilt, and sex and guilt...oh,it was a great time." He said sarcastically.
"But then you get ordained and you go out to your first parish. And you learn how to hide even more. You've got to behave, and if you don't you better make sure you don't ever get caught. You've got to watch yourself with the parishioners. God forbid you get involved with a parishioner, 'cause remember, you're only in your 20's at that point and the younger guys are still your peers. That'll get you thrown out faster than lightning. So you hide, and hide and hide. And it begins to corrode your soul like acid. And you go on like that."
He fell silent again. Chuck held him close, "You sound pretty angry and bitter about that."
"Yep. I am."
"What happened today?"
"I looked at myself in the mirror, and I saw myself again for the first time. And I didn't like the picture I saw. I caught myself subconsciously putting on a mask in order to go out. Do you remember the movie The Birdcage, that scene with Robin Williams and his boyfriend where he tells him to try and walk like John Wayne?"
"Yes."
"Well, there I was, living it out in my own house looking into the mirror, trying to walk like John Wayne in order to pass. And I hated it. I just fuckin' hated it. I can't live like this anymore and I don't know what to do. And it's all your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yes, your fault. If I didn't feel about you the way I do, if I didn't have to see myself reflected in your eyes, then maybe I could go on hiding. But I can't."
Chuck reached down and kissed him on the lips, John reaching up eagerly, hungrily for his mouth. It deepened into a soul-wrenching kiss, one that spoke of the depths of their relationship, that hinted at what was to come.
"John, I love you. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I love you. I think about you when I'm not here and I want to call you and laugh with you and joke with you, and make love with you."
"I know, Chuck. That's what brought this all to a head today. I love you, too, and I can't keep living like this, in hiding. I don't want to live like this. And I don't know what to do."
They clung to each other, and slowly that changed until they were making slow, sweet love, sealing their words with a kiss, with many kisses, and drawing strength from each other as they set out into the unknown.