Letter R .

Right Moment

Roger, a homosexual just like myself, is treated with respect, and with such love, and care. Where's my "royal" treatment? Why am I treated like crap for being gay, while this other gay is being praised for breathing! It just didn't make any sense to me at all, but I ended up liking him. Roger was the type of guy who was very outgoing, and athletic too. He was tall, with light caramel skin, and short, curly dark brown hair. He was skinny, but not muscular skinny, he was just skinny. His smile looked pure, and very welcoming, probably why I started liking him.

We'd spend the afternoons together, we'd talk, and walk, everything was going well. One day after school, him and I were sitting out in the front of the building. The day was beautiful, and I remember gazing into his eyes, and him into mine. I noticed him leaning a little closer, and closer, until....one of the most important moments in my young life has happened. A kiss, well out of a story book, had just occurred, and of course, it was my first. I smiled on the inside non stop, and my heart just kept pounding with excitement.

Afterwards, Roger and I got a lot closer together; some days we'd walk to the park and have a little date there just him and I. I devoted my trust into him, and who wouldn't? I guess you could say he was my first love. Damn did I love spending time with Roger; I couldn't get him out of my mind. One day he asked me to walk to the park with him, my devoted self of course said yes with eagerness.

However, we kept walking even after we passed the park. "Where are we going?" I asked confusingly. "Don't worry about it," he'd respond very aggressively. We ended up in the middle of...well...I didn't know where we were exactly. He pulled me in front of him and forcefully pulled my head toward his. I remember how strong his bite on my lip was, I could taste blood. His arms were wrapped tightly around me like a snake wraps itself around its prey.

My heart was out of control, and my mind overloaded with thoughts. When it was all over, his pants were unbuckled, my underwear wrinkled, and ripped through, and the side of my face was a bit sticky. What had just happened? I was so confused to what him and I just did, and it wasn't sex, literally we didn't have sex. However, I don't remember even thinking about it. I started home praying to the heavens above me to forgive me for what had just happened. A lump was stuck in my throat, but I couldn't cry, I couldn't do anything, I didn't feel anything.

I knew for a fact it wasn't the right moment for me to engage myself in sexual contact, especially with another man. At the time I didn't even know what "bj"meant, other than peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But how was I supposed to know it meant something completely different? What did him and I just do in the middle of wherever we were, or better yet, what did he just make me do?