Mid March 2007 – one of my best friends, Paul, is clearly aware something is wrong with me. He’s been probing for sometime wanting to know "what’s up". I’m getting more comfy with the whole situation, so I arrange for us to go for drinks one night.
Paul starts, "I’ve noticed you have a lot on your mind lately, but you’re a great guy ….". "Stop, Paul — I’m sleeping with guys". Without missing a beat, "… and then there’s that", he replied.
Easier than ripping a bandage off a knee, in just a few short words I had said all he needed to know. It felt good.
Paul absorbed all of it in stride. Two bottles of white into the night, I had disgorged my entire story to him, replent with sorid details and ending with "it’s not really all that messy if you have a towel".
Paul looked at me, "but you’re not gay". Like what else do I have to do get this merit badge I ponder?
The net was Paul wasn’t disturbed with my disclosure (injected with much of my humor) and he cautioned restraint. You have a great family, a great wife and a wonderful life, be careful and take your time. Sounds like good advice.