As a Gay of a Certain Age, I tend to look back on my life, to see why I am the way I am.
I came out, to myself, as well as the rest of the world when I was 28 years old.
I had sex with a woman, twice, within six months- starting on Graduation night.
Then no sex until over ten years later.
I fooled around, once or twice, with a male friend somewhere in there,
but that left me a little more confused than satisfied.
I wasn't a gay who hid in the closet and dated women to throw people off the track. I wasn't a gay who dated men freely and didn't care what others thought. I was blissfully in denial with myself and ultimately reasoned that I was attracted to guys, but there were girls I liked, so I dated neither;
it wouldn't be fair to the girls if I went out with them while I was attracted to guys.
I also didn't date guys because being attracted to guys didn't necessarily mean that I was gay.
So, I wasted ten years of my life, sitting on a fence, not doing anything with anyone
until one night, while routinely sneaking my roommate's gay porn I realized, "Dude, I'm gay".
Luckily, without even realizing it, I had surrounded myself with gay and gay-friendly people.
My coming out process was relatively painless- as a matter of fact I said on more than one occassion, "Do me the courtesy of acting surprised."
I don't care to sit and wonder about who I'd be, or who I'd be with if I hadn't spent ten years of my life forming relationships with the denizens of Knots Landing, rather than actual people. All I know is those years made me who I am today and I like who I am today.
Still, there is a little part of me that suspects that the reason I'm going to "die alone" is hidden somewhere in that ten year gap and I wonder how I could be in denial for so long.
I've decided that This is could very well be part of the reason.