Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Sexy Pictures and Me

Sex sells.  Everyone knows that.

If the point of blogging is to be read (or viewed) by the most people, then the most successful blogs are the ones that skip words entirely and instead share lots of sexy pictures, like this one:

Tumblr's relatively quick success compared to Blogger is proof of this, as are other popular websites, like Instagram and Snapchat, which focus entirely on pictures - many of them x-rated.

I like sexy pictures as much as the next guy, and I know if I posted loads of them here every day, I'd get a lot more attention.  But attention isn't really what motivates me to blog.

I did take it as a compliment, however, when several readers asked me earlier this year to please stop writing so frequently about bi men and straight wives and start writing more about myself.  "I want to hear about YOU!" they said.

In response to that feedback, from the end of August until now, nearly every post has been about me.

Well, guess what?  Visits to the blog have plummeted.  They've consecutively dropped every month since August and are now down 62% from that month.  December will have the fewest pageviews since my third month of blogging, which was more than three years ago.  Clearly, not many people are interested in reading about my life, at least in its present state.

That's ok.  The truth is, I don't have a lot going on.

My plan for 2014, therefore, is to return to writing about bi men and their wives.  If something eventful happens in my personal life, I may share that, but for the most part I'll be posting other people's stories.  I'm sorry if that offends or bores anyone, but I think it's a very worthy endeavor.  Almost no one writes about mixed orientation couples on the Internet, yet there are hundreds of thousands of people in exactly that kind of relationship. Unquestionably the subject deserves a great deal more discussion and introspection.  I'd like to do what I can to help make that happen.

With that said, and because this is my last post for 2013, it's an ideal time for me to tie up a few loose ends in my story...

My Big News

Charlie, my former wife's dangerous ex-boyfriend, had an immigration hearing on December 18th.  Prior to the hearing he got a friend to post a bond for him.  Because of the bond, and other promises made with it, the friend had been bragging to his fellow alcoholics that Charlie was going to be released. Well, since the hearing, that same friend has changed his story.  He now says Charlie will definitely be deported.

Yee ha!!!

What the friend says is only hearsay, so until Charlie is confirmed to be out of the country, I won't be able to relax or celebrate.  But just imagining that I'll never see him again is an awesome feeling.  I can't wait until he's officially out of my life forever.

Gabbie & Me

As I described in the post Gabbie Gets a Restraining Order, my failure to get Charlie deported three years ago was what prompted me to come out to my wife (for the second time) and ask for a separation.  I did that because she went back on her promise to be done with him.  After tolerating their outrageous behavior for four years, I'd had enough.

But now that Gabbie really is done with Charlie I've found myself wanting to reunite with her. There are a lot of good, practical reasons to keep a 23 year marriage together, and more than that, I still feel deeply connected to her in a way I've never felt about anyone else.  She's not perfect and neither am I, so maybe the best thing to do is to focus on our good connection and forget about the bad stuff?  What's wrong with spending the rest of your life partnered to your best friend?

I've been seriously wrestling with these thoughts for the past three months but I haven't acted on them.  I have, however, noticed that Gabbie's very platonic attitude toward me has not changed in Charlie's absence.  This in turn has reminded me that NOT ONCE, EVER, has Gabbie expressed a desire for us to reunite.  Also, the fact that she so easily fell into a relationship with such a loser, and so easily forsook me, is very telling about how she felt (and clearly still feels) about our less-than-stellar sexual connection. It takes two motivated people to make a marriage work and nothing Gabbie has said or done suggests that she's interested in patching things up.

I wish I could achieve some inner peace or closure with respect to the end of our marriage, but I'm starting to accept that that may never happen.  Real life is often vague and messy, unlike movies or books or TV shows.  "Shit happens" might seem like a stupid way to describe the end of a long-term marriage, but at this point, that's the best answer I have.  "Shit" exemplifies the bad, painful stuff and "happens" explains that there was no carefully thought out plan.

Anyway, regardless of how mixed my feelings are about her, the bottom line is that Gabbie and I will not be reuniting.  My heart may not like that outcome but my brain says, in the long-run, that's almost certainly what's best for both of us.

The Future

I stopped trying to date men more than six months ago.  I wasn't enjoying the process so my motivation to keep going faded.  At this point, I have to admit that I'm enjoying NOT dating a lot more than trying to date.

This realization has made me wonder if I'm destined to be single forever.

If so, so be it.

My theory on motivation is that people take action when they're ready.  Until then, we lie around or make excuses or philosophize or pretend we're too busy to make changes.  Sometimes we live in fear of change, which is sort of where I've been. 

I was mostly motivated to date because I was afraid of being single and over 50 ('cuz we all know it's downhill from there).  I haven't overcome that fear, but I've realized that being a full-time, responsible, "present" parent is more important to me.  I used to feel horribly guilty about going out on leap-of-faith dates and leaving my kids home alone.  Now I'm happier not having that conflict.

Because my youngest kid is currently in 8th grade I have several more years to go before she's independent.  It's therefore possible that I won't have many (or any) dates to blog about for a long time to come.  The good news is that fewer readers means there's less pressure on me to write about myself.  Knowing that makes me happier too.

I hope I don't sound sad or negative about my future because I actually don't feel that way.  The right stuff will happen when I'm ready for it. In the meantime, I have plenty of unblog-worthy things to do that will keep me busy.

Let's all have an awesome 2014.  That's certainly what I intend to do.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Men, Mixers and Everlasting Commitment

Paris, France...the city everyone loves, the city everyone wants to visit.

Except me.

I never had much of an interest in going there.  Too much hype, too much attitude.

Or so I thought.

Back in 2005, Gabbie and I took our kids to Europe to see some friends who moved to Belgium.  The kids were 12, 8 and 6 at the time.  Our friends had three boys, 8, 5 and 3.  Late into our visit, our friends shocked us by offering to watch all six kids for a day so Gabbie and I could visit Paris.  What an offer!

For $120 each, Gabbie and I took a two hour train from Brussels to Paris and enjoyed a Sunday there.  We raced through the essentials in just a few hours...the Eiffel Tower, Norte Dame, the Louve and the Champs de Elysee...all the classic tourist sights.

What did I enjoy most?

The sights on the river Seine...

...specifically, an amazing number of handsome, petite men who looked like this:

(Or at least they did after I mentally undressed them.)

Many of them worked on tourist river boats which meant they were dressed in naval uniforms - an added bonus.

Prior to my visit to Paris I hadn't particularly noticed how sexy many petite men are, especially when they have lean, muscular builds.  Now I'm crazy about them.

One of the reasons I'm so attracted to short, well-proportioned men is because I'm smaller-than-average myself.  And while size doesn't necessarily dictate relationship dynamics, I'd love to be the physically dominant man in a partnership.  That's important because I'd like to break free of my submissive relationship tendencies.  After 25 years of being Gabbie's "yes" man, I'd like to have the mental, emotional and physical stature to be the Alpha Male, not the Beta Wimp.

***

Every so often I'll see a guy who reminds me of the sexy, short men in Paris.  One such guy is a regular at a monthly mixer I've been attending for bi and gay men.  I've never spoken to him, never even heard his voice, and I know absolutely nothing about him, but...wow...just looking at him makes my heart beat about three times faster.

I should describe the mixers.  They're very casual, afternoon potlucks held at different homes in the suburbs.  They're big - easily more than 100 guys attend.  Most attendees are single and well over the age of 40.

At the most recent mixer I was hanging out with my friend Kerry from my men's group.  And, as usual, my eyes kept gravitating toward the short, cute guy I've been watching for months.
Mathieu, a French sailor

While trying not to stare too much, I said to Kerry, "I'm really attracted to that guy's looks."

"You are?" (Pause)   "Huh."  (Another pause.  Kerry obviously doesn't understand my attraction.)  "What is it that you like about him?"

"Well...It's weird.  It makes no sense, actually.  I don't know anything about him, not even his name.  But there's something about short, well-proportioned men like him that really turns me on."

"Oh, in that case..." and Kerry ducked down.

We both laughed loudly.

Then suddenly...

I wasn't thinking about the sexy short guy anymore...

I was thinking about Kerry.

***

Kerry is two years older.  He's an authentic, smart, REALLY nice guy.

Of all the guys I've met through the men's group or the mixers, Kerry is probably the most like me.

I "get" him.
I like him.
I'm really glad I met him.

I just wish I wanted to rip his clothes off.

He's not unattractive.  In fact, now that I've found myself suddenly thinking about him, he's gotten more attractive.  But I don't lust for him.

Is lust essential to begin a relationship?  I'm not sure.  What if we were to try dating but genuine passion didn't eventually develop?  Then I'd feel stuck in a bad relationship with a good person.

On the other hand, what if things went well?

Kerry is a good, quality man without a selfish bone in his body.  He's 100% trustworthy and loyal. There's nothing to dislike about him.  All someone has to do is treat him right and he'll be happily devoted to that person for the rest of his life.

That's all terrific, appealing stuff, but it also freaks me out.

***

Being in a happy, committed relationship with a good man is supposed to be my ideal.  Yet I fear how that would change my life.

By nature, I'm a very private person.  I think 30+ years in the closet has helped make me that way.  Whereas my 14yo daughter dreams about being famous, that would be hell for me.  On those rare occasions when I draw attention to myself, I do it in a very controlled, focused way.  I try to direct the spotlight, not be in it.

Separating from Gabbie has been difficult for many reasons, one of which is that it opens me up to personal questions that I don't really want to answer.  It's for that reason that I've only told one "old life" person that we've split up, and she's never met Gabbie.  The only reason I told her was because her own long-term marriage fell apart and I wanted her to know that I totally understood her situation.  Had she not shared her pain, I would not have shared mine.

No one in my family knows Gabbie and I have split up.  Not my parents, not my sister.  I have no desire to tell them, mostly because I don't want to talk about it.  There's nothing they could say or do that would be helpful or supportive.  In fact, it's far more likely that both my parents would say something that really pisses me off.  They already do that for small things, this would only be 100,000x more aggravating.

Telling them about the gay thing will be even worse.  That will be another highly irritating conversation.  Here again, there's nothing they could say that would make me happy.  Even if they said, "We totally support you," I'd never believe them.  They're not capable of being supportive - of anything.  That's a given.

Dragging someone like Kerry into my life would be cruel.  Do I subject him to my family or do I hide him?  Either choice would be a bad one.

But what if we were totally committed?  Then there'd be no reason to hide.  Or, more accurately, no excuse to keep hiding.

Now that I've realized this, I've become a full-fledged commitment-phobe.  The easiest way to avoid the scrutiny I dread is to stay away from able-to-commit men like Kerry, and from dating in general.

It's not just dealing with my parents that makes me relationship-phobic.  I also fear that I won't be able to balance a full-time, committed relationship with being a full-time, devoted parent.  One way or another, I'd have to compromise how I spend my time and that's not something I'm eager to do. I'm pretty confident it would turn into a no-win situation where I'd mostly end up feeling bad about being an uncaring boyfriend AND an absentee father.

Lastly, I fear how having a serious boyfriend would affect my relationship with Gabbie.  She's been my best friend for my entire adult life - 27 years.  My connection with her has been the longest, best and most fulfilling of my life.  It's scary to imagine that changing.

A new partner would have to be a higher priority than her, I know that, but I don't know how to smoothly make that adjustment. Here again, the easiest solution (in the short-run, at least) is to avoid the problem entirely, by not get involved with anyone.

Although I am currently commitment-phobic, I don't think I'll remain this way forever.  In theory, I could change my mind tomorrow.  All it would take would be meeting someone I'm so crazy about that my fears simply wouldn't matter any more.

My gut feeling is Kerry isn't that guy, but, I'm definitely keeping all my options open.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Crushed Charlie Dreams

Ryan Reynolds
I'm not someone who often lusts over celebrities.

There are exceptions of course...like a shirtless Ryan Reynolds or Channing Tatum.

One actress I'm a big fan of is Julianna Margulies, star of the highly entertaining show "The Good Wife."

To be honest, I'm not actually sure if I'm a fan of Julianna herself, but I am crazy about her character on the show.  She's smart, classy, steady, hard-working - and extremely elegant.  I find her beautiful "Snow White" looks captivating.

Julianna Margulies

It was Gabbie who got me started watching "The Good Wife."  She was a fan of Julianna's when she was George Clooney's love interest on "ER" back in 1994.

Gabbie and I used to watch "The Good Wife" together when we co-habitated. When she moved out, Gabbie stopped watching, but I've kept up, mostly because I love the female characters on the show.


The reason I'm writing about "The Good Wife" here is because of a recent storyline on the show.  It hit very close to home.

In the episode, Julianna is desperately trying to prevent a misidentified man from being deported.  Because his name-sake testified against a drug lord, if he is deported, he faces certain death.  Julianna tries to overcome numerous governmental hurdles as she does everything she can to prevent the deportation.  It's not even the right man and yet the "wheels of justice" cannot be stopped.

Miraculously (of course), the man is ultimately not deported.  How does "The Good Wife" save the day?  She doesn't.  Someone else on the show convinces the home country not to accept the man.  He's safely turned away at the border.

Say what??  A home country can refuse to accept its own citizen?

Apparently they can. 

None of this has been confirmed...it's third party rumor...but it appears that the United Kingdom is refusing to accept Gabbie's loser ex-boyfriend Charlie.  He hasn't lived there for more than 20 years yet they know they don't want him.

Word has it that Charlie will be released here in mid-December, as soon as he's finished serving a 90 day sentence for bilking an elderly woman out of $30,000.  (Theft really does pay - more than $300 a day!)

This is horrible news.  It not only means that Charlie is returning, it also means there's no way to get rid of him.  Yes, Gabbie has a long-term restraining order against him, but he literally has nothing to lose if he violates it.  Any time he gets drunk (every day) and goes on a rampage, who knows what he'll do.

Gabbie is petrified.

I don't why that asshole piece of scum gets to live such a charmed life.  He does everything wrong and yet he never really suffers.  He's made my life hell.  He's made Gabbie's life hell.  Why the fuck can't he permanently disappear?  When will his reign of terror end?

I can't believe this is happening.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Gabbie Gets a Restraining Order

Many bi married men are tortured by their attraction to men. They hate themselves for it.  They wish the desires would go away.  They'd "do anything" to be straight.

I've never felt that way.  My sexuality has always been a part of me.  I wouldn't know how to be me if I was straight.  And yet...I happily, willingly and (I thought) permanently gave men up in 2003, at the age of 37.

I did this rather spontaneously, all on my own, without any effort.  One day I realized I just didn't feel like pursuing them any more; the happiness they brought was fleeting, but the guilt was tremendous.  All things considered they weren't worth the trouble.

It wasn't until more than a year later that I realized the importance of what I'd done.  Even then it wasn't a big deal.  I was more amazed by my evolution than my end point.  After accepting myself as gay at 15 and separating from my wife at 26, who would've guessed I'd still be happily and monogamously married to the same woman at 37?  Certainly not me.

My happy straight life didn't last very long, however.  Just three years later my wife met a charming Scotsman named Charlie...

***

Gabbie, my wife, has always been a very social person.  When we met in college in England she loved to stay at the pubs until closing every night.  But she was academically talented too.  After coming home from a long night of drinking, many times she'd read 400 pages of an excruciatingly dull book, then hand-write a three page "A" paper for our 18th Century English Literature tutorial, then sleep for three hours before heading to class the next morning, only to repeat the cycle all over again the following day.

Charlie, on the other hand, was as smart as a tree stump.  He offered Gabbie no intellectual stimulation whatsoever.  His talents were being lewd, crude and "fun."  Gabbie loved his very out-going, hard partying ways, perhaps because hanging out with him made her feel like she was 20 again.

The thing was, Gabbie wasn't 20.  Nor was she single.  She was 40 and married and the mother of three school-age children.  She didn't have the option to be a carefree bar-fly.  That's why I knew from the start that her friendship with Charlie wouldn't last.  It didn't make sense that it should, their lifestyles and priorities were far too different.

It turned out I was wrong.  Not only did their friendship last, it evolved into a romance.  And worse, their lifestyles and priorities began to merge, in very disturbing Charlie-like ways.

Charming Charlie, it's turned out, has been an endless disaster.  Besides being an unemployed illegal alien and a homeless, hard-core alcoholic, he also has a nasty, dangerous temper.  Beginning about a year after she met him, Gabbie began to be regularly victimized by him.  Most of the time he "only" did something that angered or embarrassed her, but every so often he'd do something seriously stupid, vicious or cruel.  One time he broke Gabbie's clavicle by falling on her when he was drunk.  Another time he gave her genital warts after cheating on her.  A third time he pushed her out of a moving car.

Each time he did something awful I thought, "This is the last straw.  There's no way Gabbie will go back to him again after what he's done."  But each time she did.  Enthusiastically.

After a lot of hand-wringing on my part I eventually decided that the best way for me to handle the situation was to be patient.  If I aggressively took a stand against Charlie or their affair, I'd only push her further into his arms.  Charlie was sure to implode, I thought, so if I stayed patient it would only be a matter of time before she'd be done with him.  Until that happened, my job was to keep her as safe as possible and protect the kids from finding out about their antics.

In late July of 2010, nearly four years after Gabbie met Charlie, I finally got my lucky break.  Charlie got pulled over for a minor traffic violation and didn't have a license or ID on him.  When he refused to tell the cop his name, he was brought in for further questioning.  Once they figured out who he was, and saw that he had thousands of dollars in unpaid court fines, they put him in jail for five weeks.

With Charlie locked up and out of Gabbie's life for a while, she finally began to understand how destructive his influence was.  Even so, she said she couldn't leave him because he was too dangerous.

"If he's dangerous that's all the more reason to get away from him!"

"You don't understand.  He killed a guy in a bar fight about twenty-five years ago in England.  It was an accident, but still, I know what he's like when he's mad.  I can't just walk away from him.  He'd come after me.  And who knows what he'd do.  He has nothing to lose."

"We can get a restraining order."

"A restraining order?  That's a joke.  I'd be dead by the time the cops showed up."

"If he's that dangerous and he's here illegally, he should be deported!  Would you miss him if he was sent back to England?"

"No.  I don't think I would.  I don't really miss him now."

That conversation marked the beginning of three very happy weeks for me.  With Gabbie's full support and approval, I anonymously called US Immigration and told them that Charlie was in custody in the county jail, that he was in the country illegally, and that he was extremely dangerous.  Because of my call, and instead of being released when his jail time was served, he was transferred to Immigration custody.  They held him for several more weeks, until a hearing on his legal status could be held.

Unfortunately, for reasons we never learned, the immigration judge decided not to deport him.  Two days later he was released from custody.

My disappointment was profound.  After four years of tolerating his bullshit, I thought I'd finally gotten rid of him.  With his horrible criminal record, I never imagined that any immigration judge would allow him to stay.

Despite that major set-back, I did not give up hope.  Whether Charlie was in the US or not didn't matter.  I'd won the battle for Gabbie's heart!  She finally admitted she wanted him out of her life!  My patience paid off!  It was only a matter of time before our lives and marriage returned to normal.

Once again, I was wrong.

Not only was Gabbie not done with Charlie, but as soon she found out when he was being released from jail she raced there to pick him up.  Then they went out drinking together.

Once again, I held my breath and kept telling myself to be patient.  "This won't last."

Well, another few weeks went by and absolutely nothing about their relationship or behavior changed.  This meant that even after Gabbie admitted she wanted to be done with him, her words amounted to nothing.  Even worse, because I failed to get Charlie deported, I lost my best (and perhaps only) opportunity to get rid of him.  Now there was no end in sight for this ridiculous situation.

With that very bleak future facing me, I made the decision to come out to Gabbie again.  I said, "You know...since you're in love with him, and he's not going anywhere, and I'm gay, I don't know why we should stay together."

Her response: "YOU'RE GAY?!!!!"

[I'll never understand that reaction.  How could she possibly be surprised when we already separated (and lived apart for two months) when I came out to her for the first time in 1992?  Sure, I decided not to torture her by openly talking about my sexuality for 18 years, but how could she ever forget that was the reason we separated??]

Two months after my November 2010 re-coming out, I formally asked Gabbie to separate.  That was very difficult to do, but even as I said the words I still had hope.  I wanted a separation like the one we had many years before.  I wanted a separation where she'd hold on to me, a separation that would show her how important I was to her.  I wanted her to realize, and passionately feel, as I did, that ending our marriage was a horrible idea, especially compared to choosing a new life with a violent, unemployed, homeless, alcoholic criminal.

Gabbie did hold on to me, but only as friends.  It turned out that she'd been wanting to separate for some time but she'd been afraid to say anything because she thought I'd be suicidal.

So much for my hopes that splitting up would bring us back together...

It took about eight months, but eventually I stopped looking backward and accepted the fact that our relationship had permanently changed.  Obviously, a rekindling of our marriage was not going to happen.

As time has gone by since then, I've come to accept and appreciate our split.  I actually feel much more empowered now that I'm single.  I spent too many insecure years locked in the closet.  I was always afraid to rock the boat because then maybe she'd leave.  Living a life without fear is a good thing.

So here's the new twist...

About seven weeks ago Gabbie decided she really couldn't stand being around Charlie any longer so she got a temporary restraining order against him.  He immediately violated it and was arrested for attempted battery.  He didn't really hurt her, he only grabbed her arms (probably because he thought she was going to hit him), but that was enough to send him to jail.

The District Attorney dropped the battery charge two days later but it turned out that Charlie had a warrant out for bilking an old woman of $15,000 for construction work he never did.  After serving three days for that crime (three days???!!), he was transferred to Immigration custody.

According to the Immigration website, the average wait time for a deportation hearing is three weeks.  Charlie's been held for more than twice that long.  Because of the restraining order, Gabbie can't contact him to find out what's going on - not that she wants to talk to him anyway.  This means we're just waiting, hoping and wondering...will he be released?  Or will he be deported?

Privately I've been wondering something else too.  If he is deported, will very-social Gabbie want to live alone without her kids, or a partner, or any family?  Or would she like to turn the clock back by three years?

"What would have happened to us if Charlie had been deported three years ago?"

That's the question that's been very much on my mind as we wait for word about what's going to happen to Charlie.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Men. Man. No Men.

Men

One of my favorite activities every week is my Married/Formerly Married Men's Group meeting.  I never would have guessed that I'd enjoy any kind of "support" group, but I like this one.  A lot.

What's weird is that, for as much as I like the group, I sometimes wonder whether I would have taken the time to get to know my co-participants if I'd met them in some other way.  For example, what do I have in common with a scraggly-looking, 79 year old widow who lives 45 minutes away, in a trailer behind his daughter's house? Well, now that I've gotten to know him and his story, I have a big soft spot for him.  I feel his sadness and anguish as he copes with the loss of his long-time partner and struggles to stay relevant to his children and grandchildren.  He's a good man who deserves to be happy just as much as I do; just as much as anyone does, really.

For me, there's a magic to the group, a magic that I didn't really "get" until my third or fourth meeting.  At first, I thought these guys were just formerly closeted men who decided to come out in mid-life.  Now I've come to realize that even if their sexual preference is clear (and sometimes it's not), they're fundamentally different from both straight and gay men, and that difference isn't so much about sexual preference as it is about life experiences.
What's this man's life like?

What I mean is, living in the suburbs as a straight married man and raising children is NOT like living as a single, gay man in the city.

Similarly, living as a single gay man who is raising children in the suburbs is NOT like living as a stereotypical straight suburban dad.

Although I can keenly relate to various aspects of those two different lifestyles, I've found that no one truly understands what it's like to be me, a single gay suburban dad, unless they've already walked in my shoes.


And how different is it than this man's?

Life-long gay men, even ones who were closeted well into their 30s, just don't understand what it's like to raise children in the suburbs.

And even the most open-minded, straight suburban men don't understand what it's like to be a single gay dad.


Gay with kids: its own lifestyle


But the men in my support group are all men like me.  They're dads, they've had long (and usually good) relationships with women, and, what they most want now is to connect with another caring man and settle down and enjoy a happy, peaceful life together.


I think it's fair to say that my participation in the support group has very positively affected the way I view other formerly married men, especially those with children.

My attraction to this demographic has grown so strong that when I started dating again earlier this year, the very first online search I did was to find exactly those kind of men.  Likewise, the first guy I messaged was a single gay suburban dad.  Part of the reason I found his profile attractive was because he said, "I am the father of two amazing handsome, smart, kind and good young men. They are my greatest accomplishment. They have made me a better man."

Apparently, he didn't think I could make him a better man.  Or maybe he just didn't share my affinity for formerly married men with children.  Either way, he never replied to my message.

Getting ignored right out of the gate immediately brought back memories of my previous year's dating frustrations.  For that reason I decided to try a new approach.  Instead of proactively reaching out to men who seemed like good matches, I thought I'd try "saying yes" to the men who contacted me.  That's almost entirely what I did.  In five months of active dating, I think I only sent an initial message to three guys, including the first one who ignored me.

Man

One of the two other guys I messaged first was also formerly married.  He turned out to be the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back" when it came to my self-esteem. 

I had many good reasons to reach out to him.  Not only did we have similar values and interests, and not only was he a recently divorced father of two school age children, but he also lived just a few miles away, a rarity.  Perhaps most promising of all, he seemed to have an interest in me because he visited my profile several times over a period of a few weeks.

I was waiting for him to message me first but I changed my mind about that when I saw him having brunch with his parents in a local restaurant.  Seeing him in person was very helpful because it convinced me he was well within my league, in terms of appearance, even though he was five years younger.

I also decided to take the plunge because I knew he'd respond.  I mean, he pretty much promised he would in his profile: "I especially welcome meeting other single dads."
This guy is better looking.

Of course it turned out that he does not welcome meeting just any single dad.  He has his standards...and I didn't make the cut.

Ouch.

I was so surprised to be rejected that I re-analyzed my decision to contact him.  I went through the mental checklist:  Numerous shared interests? Check.  Shared life values? Check. Age appropriate?  Check.  Height appropriate?  Check.  In my league?  Check. (Somewhat similar to the guy pictured, only less attractive.)  Lives nearby? Check.  Willing to date a guy with kids?  Definitely.

He was one of those "on paper" ideal matches.  The kind of guy that I'd expect to easily be friends with, even if we didn't have any romantic chemistry.  It was a no-brainer to message him.  Of course he would reply.

Only he didn't.

As I've said, my self-esteem was already in a downward spiral before that, for several reasons:  I had a series of strange dates and rejections; I learned that the one guy who I thought really liked me, my bf of several months, was never very interested; and, I came to the realization that too much exercise had significantly and adversely affected my once youthful appearance.  Not getting a reply from Mr. Average Dad was the final kick when I was already down, a kick that my battered ego just could not take.

The only way to heal from the cumulative hurt I was feeling was to withdraw from dating for a while.  Most likely, a long while.

No Men

It's been four months since I've been out on a date - and more than a year since I've had sex.  You'd think I'd be depressed about those things, but I'm not.  It's actually a relief not to be dating.  It's one less headache to worry about.

I haven't given up on men entirely, but in their absence I have (unexpectedly) achieved an element of inner contentment that I've been missing for years.  I've realized that I can be single and celibate for the rest of my life and still be happy.  That's not my preferred outcome but it definitely wouldn't make for a sad or miserable life either.

Like many closeted married men in mid-life (or older), I was afraid that if I ever became single I'd be too old to find a new partner.  That's not the reason I stayed married but it was certainly a big fear that I had. 

Now that I'm living that reality, I have to say that it feels good to have faced that fear and conquered it.  Even better, I've realized that overcoming it has laid the foundation for a much needed (and hopefully permanent) boost of my self-confidence.  We've all heard that cliche' that "you can't love someone else until you love yourself first."  I'd like to add a corollary to that: "You can't love yourself until you realize what good company you are."

Anyway, this is my way of saying that I'm healing and growing.  I plan to continue to take time off from dating for at least the next several months.  I'll return when I genuinely feel motivated to do so.  Until then I'll happily keep busy with other interests, including blogging.

Friday, October 4, 2013

Found! The Missing Three Chapters of "Fraternity Memoirs"

For those of you who are not familiar with "Fraternity Memoirs," it's a mostly-true tale of a college freshman and his crazy sexual experiences when he pledged a fraternity in the mid-'90s.  Written under the pen name of "John Walsh", the story has become a time-tested classic.  Although the last chapter was published in 2003, fans continue to scour the Internet on a daily basis hoping to find new installments.

The story is amazingly captivating, not only because of the hot sex, but also because of the people involved.  They're real and the more you read, the more you want to know about them and what happens next.

Walsh published 23 installments, between April of 2001 and December of 2003.  You can read them all HERE.

Because he never came close to finishing his story, Walsh was relentless badgered to write more, especially after he announced his "retirement."

Eventually he grew tired of being hounded so he agreed to provide closure by participating in a two-hour Internet chat session in April of 2004.  A hard-to-find log of that chat session is posted HERE.

Chronologically, the chat session tells the final parts of John's story.  However, the last time he actually provided new material was in June of 2006.

For years he'd been hinting that he had partially written chapters.  His fans, of course, begged him to either finish them or share what he had.  Finally, he did that, but in an extremely low key way.  He posted two emails to a small Yahoo group and added an attachment to the second email that included a rough draft of what he believed was one of his most important unpublished chapters.

Not long after he posted those emails, Yahoo deleted the group, and thus was born the legend of the "three missing chapters of Fraternity Memoirs."

I was recently shocked and thrilled to learn from Billy, a reader who stumbled on this blog, that the small Yahoo group was reinstated some weeks after it was deleted.  ALL of the messages remain deleted.  ALL of the original membership was removed.  However, still posted in the files section is a long lost gem, JW.htm.

The file is titled "Part of John Walsh's Synopsis."  Because I continually participated in all of the various Walsh-related yahoo groups, I am confident that I've read everything he's ever posted.  For that reason, I don't believe this file is part of anything bigger.  I believe the only other part of Walsh's synopsis is the much longer, story-ending Internet chat session that happened in 2004.

These "missing chapters" are exactly what I've been looking for and what's posted below is exactly what I remember reading.  As far as I know, there's nothing more.  This is it.

The way the file is posted in the Yahoo group, it looks like one chapter. But because I remember how it was originally written, I know what the three different parts were.  I have marked them below.  Other than that, and a few minor spelling corrections, what's posted below is the same file that's still posted in the Yahoo group.

Enjoy!

---------------------

[The First Email]

Happy Memorial Day Weekend Everyone. I hope you are all doing well. I'm better, after the little emotional breakdown that I had. Whew, I had a lot of things hitting me at once. Problems with a current relationship, a new attraction, a focus on a not so pleasant time of my life that I haven't confronted in a long time, and the realization that I had to address a broken, very broken, relationship of the past. I have a long way to go before I think I can have peace of mind, but I am working towards that. But the fact that I am facing all this, and I see that it will all turn out for the best, puts me in a much better frame of mind than I was a couple of weeks ago. Again, I want to thank each and everyone one of you for the e-mails you sent with kind words and caring. It means more than you know, and in a way, is giving me the courage to do what I have to do.

That said, I promised that I would never let the story end without wrapping it up. This may sound choppy, as I am going to try and fit a lot in a brief space, but maybe someday I will come back and fill in the middle. So here goes... Kevin and I continue to have a "secret relationship". I slowly become more comfortable with man-man sex and do become a much more willing and reciprocating partner. There came a point in time in my sophomore year that we were really pushing the envelope, hooking up in places where we should have been caught but never were, like in the bathroom at the Fraternity House while there was a line waiting outside to use the bathroom.

I should also mention that we did not get our charter back that year. While we were away for Spring break, a new group had petitioned to be recognized as well. It was a Fra-rority, as we called it. A group of 10 (minimum amount needed) made up of guys and girls. No one had ever even heard of this group, and we believe was put together by the dean of student life last minute to take our spot. Since the cap was put in place, with just one spot open, only one of us could be recognized. The dean also pulled something else out of his ass. He said something about the constitution of the greek council not addressing what would happen in such a case, and he appoint a special 5 member board (of which he was one) that would pick the group to be recognized. I'm sure its no surprise, but the other group one. Biggest load of hore shit ever. We thought about suing the school, but didn't have the money to do so. After trashing campus, we realized that we were much better underground anyway and not have to put up with the bullshit rules of the greek council. Without realizing it, the school had created its worst nightmare.

Before going home summer after my freshman year, I went on the annual canoe trip that my Fraternity has the weekend after finals were done. Its pretty much a send off to the graduating seniors. 8 hours of going down a river wasted and then camping out for the night. A bunch of us did mushrooms that day, neither Kevin nor Adam were shrooming. At one point, while my mind was tripping hard, I mentioned to Adam that what he saw in the tent at the pledge camping trip between Kevin and I wasn't the only time that it had happened. I don't remember it all that well since I was so fucked up, but what I do remember is that it was like a 20 second conversation. Didn't mean to tell him, and didn't even realize that I told him. You have to know shrooms to get how that can happen. One second you say one thing, and then the next second, you are on a completely different subject with no going back. I don't think that Adam even reacted. He knew I was wasted and let me go on.

That summer I worked in the beach club again. Although I was a little apprehensive to hook up with a guy so close to home, after awhile I couldn't resist my urge and was hooking up almost nightly with that guy Bobby. Bobby was the first guy that I fucked. And once I did, I loved it. It was definitely a drunk thing, knocking on his cabana at 2 in the morning and having sex. I was definitely using him. I'm not bragging, and regret it. We are still friends, Bobby and I, to a certain degree. We've talked about it, and I have apologized to him. But he never complained, and said that no apology was necessary. He knew that nothing "romantic" would ever happen between us, so in a way, he was using me as well.

Also that summer, I went down to the Jersey shore for a weekend and hung out at Adam's. We were really stoned one night and had a blast. Lying on the beach, Adam asked me if it was true what I had said about Kevin at the canoe trip. I hardly remembered telling him, and it shocked me. Come to think of it, the only real memory I have of the conversation at the canoe trip is what Adam told me. So its really his memory in my head. I told him that it was true, and was very shy about it. I asked him if he had ever hooked up with a guy before and he said that he had, in high school. He also admitted, that just like Kevin and I, he and Andy (pres) had messed around in the sleeping bag the night of their camping trip. But nothing ever happened between them again. When he was really stoned, he also admitted that from time to time, he still thought about hooking up with guys, but didn't think that he could ever do it again. Nothing that night happened between Adam and I. I was too afraid to initiate it, and who knows what could have happened, but I think that it could have. But still, it is one of the most memorable nights that I had. We really had a lot of fun, and one of the funniest fucking things happened that night that till this day, I still can't get through the story without crying from laughter and my stomach hurting. I don't have the time to tell it here, but maybe some day I will. I'm going to put this in parts, so it doesn't get cut off. I will, at least, write and post the second part tonight...

[The Second Email]

Sophomore year was a blast. Since Matt was away, and I really missed him, I lived with who I think I called Evan in the story. Big druggie and sold on campus. That quickly rubbed off on me (not selling, just using) and was pretty much stoned, coked up, drunk and/or tripping on a nightly basis. I was hell in the Residence Director's life. I was the kind of guy that you loved to hate. At least once a week, sometimes two or three, I was setting a fire alarm off in the middle of the night. I called them 4 o'clock socials. We were up and everyone was asleep at that time, and needed to hang out, so why not wake up the entire dorm and hang outside for awhile. Everyone, including the RA, knew I was doing them, but could never prove it. I was in her office weekly. But she really liked me for some odd reason, and I was never expelled from the dorms. We took a pledge class the first semester and it was so awesome to be on the other side. I rushed hard that semester, walking the dorms and encouraging everyone to come out.

There was one guy that I rushed really hard. He was so damn hot, and yes I wanted him. But he didn't want to pledge his freshman year. We saw him from time to time at parties, and we stayed friendly. I was one of the cool brothers to the pledges. I never gave out a demerit, never bitched out the pledges at
line ups, snuck them drinks and got them stoned when they weren't supposed to be, and even kidnapped one or two here and there so they could catch up on some sleep in my room. Both the fall and the sping class loved me. It came to the point where they were asking me to go on the pledge roadtrips with them, Philly, NYC, other campuses. They'd knock on my door and say Walsh, you want to come? Most times I was fucked up and was like hell yeah! Kevin and I continued to hook up. We hid it really well. no one had an idea, except Adam, and that was a really odd situation. I would catch Adam looking at Kevin and I if we were hanging together, and it always cause me to walk away from Kevin. I never told Kevin that Adam knew till Adam graduated.

Kevin was the first one to fuck me. It happened shortly into the first semester sophomore year. Since fucking Bobby over the summer, I was dying to try and fuck Kevin. But somehow, Kevin always seemed to be in control. And to a certain degree, I liked Kevin being in control. By this point, he had tried to fuck me a couple of times, but I always said no. But I finally made a bargain with him. I'd let him fuck me if he would let me fuck him. Kevin claimed that he was a top and never been fucked before (I will admit to an "untrue" part of FM. The night of the hookers, when I was pledging, that part was totally true, but the part about "red" going into the room with Kevin and the strap on was not true. I don't know why I put it in there or where I thought I would go with it...).

But who was going to go first? I totally wanted to go first, and so did Kevin. What decided it? A flip of the coin. And Kevin one. He fucked me first. And the first time was a terrible experience. It hurt so bad. I was so frightened of it that it was neither enjoyable for me or Kevin. AS soon as he was all the way in, I was screaming for him to take it out, or I literally squeezed him out. Kevin kept telling me to relax, and he did everything to get me to relax and open up. I knew he had been waiting for this a long time, but he eventually gave up. And it left me with a really bad taste for gay sex. I didn't even want to attempt fucking Kevin after that, I was so embarrassed and, well, violated.

But a couple of nights later, drunk, I was hooking up with Kevin again. I thought it would be my turn this time, but Kevin insisted that last time didn't count. So I let him try again. And this time, for whatever reason, it worked. My god did it work. It almost didn't. But something clicked. I opened up for Kevin, and although definitely painful to begin with, it eventually subsided and I felt the most immense pleasure I have ever felt in my life. And Kevin went a long time and fucked me hard, to the point that both of us were dripping sweat. We had tried a few positions, and finished up in the position that I liked the most, on my back with ankles up and in Kevin's hands. He really started to fuck me good. Hard, but not too hard, steady and long. And then this feeling was growing inside of me. A feeling of complete and utter pleasure. I was moaning as it swelled, and then it hit me. It felt I was coming, but physically, I wasn't, not just yet. I was overcome with the feeling of the most mind blowing orgasm, and just when it began to subside, without my touching my dick, I felt the surge of a second orgasm, and this time, my dick just started spewing cum all over me. I couldn't believe that I was cumming without anyone or anything touching my dick. It was, I can't even verbalize it properly, one of the most amazing sexual experiences I have ever had, and to this day, when I jerk off, my mind typically goes back to that moment. It was like a double orgasm. Kevin could do that to me here and there, not always, and only one other guy could make me cum that way.

When Kevin saw what he did to me, he was seconds behind me before emptying his own load, into the condom he was wearing, inside my ass. It took me like an hour before my mind was back to normal and functioning. And in typical JW fashion, I was guilty about it for days. I couldn't believe that I took so much pleasure in getting fucked. It was totally gay, which of course made me gay, which of course I wasn't. But I jerked off maybe 20 times in a week thinking about how amazing it felt. It took me almost a week before I could actually talk to Kevin. In my own way of dealing with things, it was easier to avoid Kevin than it was to confront the issue.

After that, Kevin wanted to fuck me all the time. But I didn't want to become a fuck rag for Kevin, even though on a certain level I wanted nothing more than to have an orgasm like that again. But eventually, I let my guard down, and Kevin was fucking me on a regular basis. Sometimes we'd fuck in the fraternity house while a party was going on, finding an empty bedroom upstairs to get it on. And the more that Kevin fucked me, the more I opened up to him and eventually began to fall in love with Kevin. And yes, I did, on occasion, fuck Kevin. But he definitely was more of a top than a bottom, which was fine with me.

I had another feel up of Adam that first semester, but this time he was awake. During that pledge class' hooker night, I had an idea. I wanted to repeat the threesome that Adam and I had. So I approached him on it, very nervous since he knew about Kevin and I, and said that I was buying if he was interested. He didn't jump on the idea, but after thinking about it, he agreed. It was definitely a little awkward at first. As much as I wanted to touch him, I felt that he was avoiding actually touching me. But at one point, the chick was sucking Adam's dick and I was lying next to him watching her slurp on his dick. This time around, I didn't even care about the chick. I was here to se Adam. He had his eyes closed and without thinking much about it, I reached out my hand and started feeling up his chest. He didn't open his eyes at first, but eventually he did and saw that it was me. He didn't say anything, he just looked me in the eyes before closing them once again. I took that as a sign that he was OK with it and I continued to feel up his chest and play with his nipples.

I desperately wanted to bring my mouth to his nipples and suck on them, but with the chick in the room, I was too embarrassed. And when the girl looked up and saw what I was doing, I was self conscious about it and took my hand away. That was most of the contact we had until the end. The hooker was sucking my dick while Adam fucked her doggie style. I felt a pair of hands on my calves, which I thought were her's at first. But then I realized where he hands were, pretty much right next to my hips. And as I looked in between her legs, I saw that it was Adam who had his hands down and rubbing my calves. I looked up and Adam was looking at me. Knowing that he was touching me and looking at me, I pretty much shot my load immediately. Adam wasn't too far behind me.

After we were done, nothing was said about it. I mean, we didn't do too much to talk about, but it was worth every dollar. And throughout the entire first semester, I hooked up with more chicks than anyone. Since I was so fucked up most of the time, many of them were nothing to brag about. I needed the cover, even for myself. Yes, I liked getting fucked by Kevin, but see, I still liked hooking up with girls. All - Yeah, I know this isn't the greatest way to "End it". But as Conorb22 mentioned, I may never write the whole story. So rather than leave you there in limbo, I figure the synopsis is better than nothing at all. After sticking with me after all this time, its the least that I can do.

[The Email Attachment]

At the end of first semester sophomore year, I ran for Chaplain and won. As far as big things that happened second semester sophomre year, only a couple of big things happened to me that I can think of at the moment. One, I found out that I was not the only guy that Kevin was hooking up with, and that in fact, I was just one of many. It shattered me, to a certain degree. I mentioned last e-mail that I was beginning to "fall" for Kevin. And it wasn't so much that I loved him, I just thought that what we had was special and unique between the two of us. I dealt with it, but it was never quite the same again, the intimacy to me felt gone somewhat, and I was just another hook up. He told me that I wasn't, but I could read through his lines. I didn't want him to give up hooking up with other guys, I wasn't looking for a relationship, it just hurt, if you know what I mean. Kevin and I did continue to fool around though. And although I began to open my eyes up to other possibilities (men) besides Kevin, I never did anything with anyone else, besides...

Two, a few weeks into second semester, Adam was beginning to have the "graduation blues", knowing that at the end of this semester, he would be in the real world. I actually have about half of the story written, all the way up the sex part. I am attaching what I have written of the chapter. Its pretty much the set up. I haven't edited it, and I think its pretty raw, so please forgive the typos. What is missing is the juicy part.

It was a Wednesday and neither Adam nor I had classes. We decided to go out and get some lunch at The Olive Garden, just the two of us. I loved spending time just with Adam. Lunch was good and Adam was
talking about how he wanted to do something spontaneous soon, since he would be graduating at the end of the semester. When we were done with lunch we hopped in my car and headed back to campus. Since he had mentioned it, my mind had been running crazy trying to think of something spontaneous that we could do before the semester ends. Adam had done so much for me the last couple of years, that I wanted to do something for him in return. And then I had an idea. It came out of nowhere. I debated it a minute with myself and then smiled at my thought. But should we do it right now, I wondered? Right now would be spontaneous, and that's what he wanted.

Why the fuck not, I thought, lets go for it. I stopped at a gas station and filled the car up, putting the final touches to my idea. This could be fun, but we had a long drive ahead of us. I hoped that Adam was in the same mindset as myself, that he really wanted to be spontaneous, and that it just wasn't lunch conversation. Back in the car, I had to do everything I could to contain myself from laughing. Nothing was particularly funny, I was just excited. We drove past campus and Adam says, "Ah, Walsh, that was our exit?" and points behind us. "I know," I say, trying not to laugh, but I can't help myself. "What? What are you laughing at? Where are you going?" "I was thinking about what you said. We're heading someplace spontaneous," I answered. "Yeah, cool. Where?" he asked and looked at his watch. I hoped he didn't need to be anyplace, we wouldn't be back to campus any time soon. "I don't know, I'll tell you when I figure it out," I responded. I had already figured it out, but I was afraid to tell Adam because he may opt out. Not that he wouldn't
want to go, but there were other considerations, like Michele. He gave me this "what are you up to look?" but didn't challenge me.

So I drove and drove some more. I had thrown in a Chili Peppers tape and we talked about the new pledge class, who we thought was going to drop and whatnot. "Philly?" he asked me, as we approached the City. "Maybe," I said with a smile. As we hit Philly the Chili's tape was over and I threw in Dave Matthews. Philly isn't that big of a City, and in a few minutes, we were through Philly and I was still heading south. Adam was ready to play my game and didn't flinch as we crossed into Delaware. Adam is a little bit of a control freak, and I know he didn't like not knowing where we were going. But he didn't show it. "I know where we are going," he said about 10 minutes through Delaware, which on I-95 is like half way through the State. Delaware is tiny for those of you on the west coast. "Where?" I amused him. "Baltimore." But it was more of a question than an answer. "Maybe," I responded. He looked at me, trying to figure me out. I tried not to laugh, but a smile came to my face.

He took that as an affirmation, but boy, was he wrong. "Well, it's awhile till Baltimore, which is cool, because I want to talk to you about something," he said. What Adam told me took me as a surprise. He was thinking about taking the NJ State Troopers test. If you recall, Adam is a business major. He never mentioned anything about law enforcement before so this was news to me. I told him I thought it was cool, but why the sudden change? He had taken a Law and Justice class last semester as an elective. It was supposed to be an easy A, which it was, but he absolutely loved the class. Since then, it's been on his mind and he thought it would be something that he would really enjoy doing. He also said that he didn't want to have a suit job with the same monotonous hours crunching numbers. He'd watched his father do it for years and wasn't certain that he wanted the same life. But he was afraid about how Michele was going to take it. He knew how she was going to take it, and it wasn't going to be good.

My response was that it was his life, and he should do what he wants to do. After all, its not like they were married or anything. And then he said what I knew would be said one day, I just hoped that day would never come. "True, but we're gonna get married some day." I wanted this to be a happy trip and didn't want my opinion on that to be known, so I kept my answer to myself. I'd known Adam for over a year now, and I still didn't understand his relationship with Michele. We'd talked about her dozens of times, but he always talks so highly of her, and I've never had the heart to say that she is a boring, control freak drip that doesn't like any of your friends. "You could do so much better,' I wanted to say. But didn't, because somewhere, deep down inside, I was jealous. The ¡¥better' was me, John Walsh. He's be so much better off with me. An impossibility, I knew, on both of our parts. But still, I was jealous. And I refused to let my jealousy speak for me. So instead, I avoided the Michele subject all together. "Well, if it's meant to be, she will have to understand," I answered.

He was also nervous about the background checks. According to Adam, they did a pretty thorough investigation and interviewed friends and family. Adam wasn't big into drugs, but he smokes some pot here and there. His biggest fear was them finding out about that one time he tried mushrooms. And has been blitzed on more than a few occasions. My view on that was that everyone has smoked pot to some degree, and certainly cops were known to be drinkers, that he shouldn't be too worried about that. And as far as the mushrooms, no one, not even Michele, knew about that but his Brothers and we would cover for him. We talked to it for a good hour or more. The test was in a few weeks, and he decided to wait and tell Michele until he had the results of the test back. If he didn't score high enough to make the academy, why even bring it up. It sounded like a bad idea to me, but I agreed with him. This time, I allowed my jealousy to speak for me.

Eventually, we made our way into Baltimore. After going through the tunnel, I moved over into the right hand lane, as if I was going to exit into Baltimore. "I knew it," Adam said. Sucker. Instead, I passed a car in front of me, in the center lane, and then pulled back in front of it. "You knew what?" I asked as Baltimore disappeared behind us. "Damn Walsh, where the hell are you taking us?" I cracked up laughing, I couldn't contain myself anymore. I was excited, but a little worried myself. Would he totally freak? I'd have to tell him eventually, I didn't know how much longer he could keep guessing before he demanded to know where we were going. "I had no idea when I woke up this morning that we would be doing this. Evan is going to freak when I call him and tell him where we are," I said, egging Adam on. "And that would be?" "You'll see when we get there. You said you wanted to do something spontaneous, right?" "Yeah, I did. But I thought spontaneous was something spur of the moment, not two and half hours in the car," he said sarcastically back.

I kept quiet, thinking, we got a lot further to go yet, two and half hours ain't nothing. "Washington D.C.?" he asked. "Maybe," I shrugged my shoulders. Almost out of gas before hitting  Washington DC, I pulled over to fill up again. Adam jumped out to take a leak and grab something to drink. I ran in to take a piss myself and Adam was paying for a Coke, a Yohoo and a couple of candy bars. It brought a smile to my face, seeing him buy me the Yohoo. It was for me. He knew it was my favorite and was buying it for me, without even asking. Consideration, just like that, went far with me. When I came out of the gas station, Adam was standing outside the car. The drinks and snacks on the roof. "You ready?" I asked him as I opened the driver's side car.

"I'm not getting in till you tell me where we are going." "That's not very spontaneous," I joked. "Fuck spontaneous, I want to know," he answered. He wasn't mad, but I could tell he was serious. I couldn't blame him, we had been driving for hours. "If you really want to know and ruin the surprise, we are going to Washington D.C. There, are you happy now?" I pretended to be pissed and jumped in the car, starting the engine. Adam grabbed the snacks and got in the car himself. "Don't be mad Walsh, I just wanted to know where the hell we were going. I've gone along with this for a long time and wanted to make sure that we were actually headed somewhere." He passed me the Yohoo, holding it out, like he was making peace. He was so damn cute I couldn't stand it. Me Adam, you should be with me, not Michele.

"Well, we're almost there, so lets get going," I said as I took the Yohoo from him. "To the Capital, driver," he said as I put the car in drive and got back on I-95. When we drove past Washington DC, Adam's face turned sour. "What the fuck Walsh, we are we going?" It was like he was the Pledge Master again, and I was the pledge. His tone was annoyed and harsh. He wasn't playing anymore and I needed to tell him where we are going. I could hear it in his voice, the game was up. "You really want to know?" "Yes, I really want to know. Pull the car over." "I don't want to pull the car over, I'll tell you while" And Adam cut me off. "Pull the fucking car over Walsh so we can talk about this."

This wasn't going exactly as I had imagined. I pulled off to the shoulder, stopped the car and put it in Park. Adam took the last slug of his Coke then twisted the top back on, tight. "Thank you," he said, his voice a lot calmer. "Sorry for yelling, but please tell me where we are going, and tell me the truth this time." "Florida," I answered, looking at him for a reaction. "Florida?" His reaction was one of disbelief. He was shaking his ;head like it didn't calculate. "Yeah, I thought it would be spontaneous and fun." ;; He seemed to mull the thought over for a second. ; "Florida?" he asked again. "Yeah," I answered again, a little less confident than the first time.

"We can't go to Florida. We don't have any clothes, or money." "We got our ATM and credit cards. Whatever we don't have, we can buy." He wasn't as excited about the idea as I was. "I don't know," his voice trailed off. "C'mon Adam. This is going to be a great time. We'll get a hotel room by the beach, hang out and get drunk for a few days and then come back. You wanted spontaneous and you got spontaneous. I thought you'd be psyched." I was pleading my case before Adam said to turn around. "Michele is going to flip," he said. "Fuck Michele dude. She may be your girlfriend, but you're my Big and we're going to have an awesome weekend. She can deal with that." "You going to call her and tell her that?" "Not a chance. Tell her I kidnapped and drugged you, and you woke up in Florida." "She'll call the cops," he joked. His mood was lightening. "I'll tell her you want to be a cop," I snapped back. "Is that blackmail, Brother Walsh?" he asked with a smile. "Take it as you want. So what's your deal, are you in you fucking pussy, or what?" I asked, my own confidence growing again. "Give me a minute to think about it," he said as he looked out his side window. "Please say yes, please say yes' I repeated in my head while Adam thought it out. "You know, you're fucking crazy Walsh," Adam said, looking at me, still in disbelief. "You're just figuring that out now?" "No, but it's the icing on the cake.

So what part of Florida were you thinking?" "Daytona Beach. So does this mean you are in?" "Yeah, I'm in," he grinned, still shaking his head at me, "Michele is going to have a cow, but as you said, she'll have to deal with it." "Now that's the Adam I know and love," I said. To Adam, it was just a saying. But the saying resonated in my own ears, love. Yeah, but not really love, in the literal sense, I assured myself, putting the car in drive, gunning the gas and pulling back onto I- 95. Neither of us had cell phones, this was just before the cell phone boom. Next time we needed gas, Adam decided, he would make the phone call to Michele and let her know that we wouldn't be back till Sunday. He wasn't looking forward to the phone call one bit, he told me.

After being solemn for a few minutes, I assume thinking about the phone call to Michele, Adam shifted gears and became completely excited. He had gone to Daytona for Spring Break his sophomore year, so he knew a bunch of fun places to hang out. He started telling me all about that Spring Break and the girls that he had hooked up with. Hearing Adam talk about pussy was making me hard. Nonchalantly, I tucked my growing dick under the seam of my crotch, somewhat hiding it, as Adam continued to tell me about the buxom blonde that he was doing body shots off of all night and later took back to his room.

In North Carolina, the car was finally on E. I pulled into a gas station and Adam almost looked pale. Was he really that afraid of her, I wondered? That would totally suck, not being able to tell your girl that you are hanging out with a bud for a few days. Did she not trust him? "I guess its that time, huh?" he asked, looking at me. "You can wait till the next station, if you want," I suggested. "Nah, I'm sure she's already called the House like 5 times looking for me. No time like the present, compadre," he said as he winked, opened his door and walked into the gas station quick mart. I filled up the car as I watched through the window, Adam pick up the phone and dial. Shit, even I was nervous for him, I could feel it in my own stomach. This is good for him, I assured myself. The snap of the gas handle, indicating that the car was full, woke me out of my trance of observing Adam and his phone conversation with Chele. I was imagining how it was going, hoping for the best. If she's a real bitch about it, she could totally ruin the weekend.

Gas handle back in place, I walked inside to pay for the gas. I handed the cashier my credit card. I couldn't hear the conversation that Adam was having. He wasn't yelling, so I guess that is a good thing. Unless of course, she is doing all the yelling on the other side of the phone. As I signed my name to the receipt, I debated walking over there to see how it was going. But I decided against it, best to leave him be. He was by the bathroom, and although I had to go, I could wait till we stopped at Burger King for something to eat. I stretched a little before getting back in the car. It was a few minutes before Adam was done with Michele. My eyes followed him as he hung up the phone, walked out of the station, came up to the car, opened the door and hopped in. "That didn't go so well," he said as he closed the car door. "No?" I asked. "Not at all. She totally flipped, talking about responsibility, immaturity and how I always put her second to my Brothers and the Fraternity. She said if I wasn't back by midnight, we were done." "Shit, really?"

I felt bad. I knew she was going to take this bad, but not this bad. I certainly didn't think they would break up over this. But on some level, I was jumping up and down inside. "Yeah," Adam said looking into his lap. "Should we go back then?" I asked. "Nah, fuck her." "You sure Adam? We can go back, I totally understand." "No, I'm sick of that shit. She's always threatening to break up with me over the stupidest shit. I'm just going to let her wallow in her own misery till Sunday, teach her a lesson." "So you're breaking up with her?" "No, there's no way she'd break up with me. She just likes to make my life hell when I'm not doing exactly what she wants. I'll have to deal with the cold shoulder for a week or so, but  she'll get over it." "You sure?" "Yeah man, I'm not going to let that bitch ruin our good time," he said while chuckling.

"You hungry," he asked, changing the subject, "Because I'm starving?" "Burger King?" "Sounds good," Adam replied. We got our food to go and switched, so that Adam took a turn at driving. Being winter, it was dark already and we had another 8 hours or so to go. We passed the time by talking and joking the entire way. Michele's name didn't come up at all, and I was glad about that. I didn't want him harping on the subject.

Moving this along, we drove all night and finally got to Daytona at like 6 AM Thursday morning. I had slept a little while, and now I was back to driving while Adam slept. Trying to save some money, I picked one of the Motels on the beach, instead of one of the more expensive name hotels. I pulled into the parking lot and found a spot. I thought that Adam would wake up, but he didn't. He must have been exhausted. I looked at him for a moment, eyes closed, his mouth open and breathing heavy. Stubble breaking through his skin. He was fucking hot alright. He was right, Michele would never break up with him. How could she ever leave such an awesome guy? I figured I would let Adam sleep. No use in getting him up till I knew the place had a vacancy. I stepped into the cool morning air, the sun not quite up and the smell of the ocean in the air. I stretched hard, realizing just how tired I was. I didn't want to get back in the car, please let the place have a
 room.

I walked around the front of the place and looked in the window of the guest house, hoping that the place wasn't closed. I saw a TV on and was glad to see that they were open. I opened the door and a buzzer went off, alerting whoever was on duty that there was a guest present. I stood at the counter a minute or so till an older looking gentleman came around from the back someplace. "Good morning," he said, cheery eyed for six in the morning. "Good morning," I said back with what energy I had. "Do you have a reservation?" he asked. "No, I don't. Do you have any vacancy?" "Sure do, we don't get busy down here for another couple of weeks when Bike week and Spring Break start up." "How much are the rooms?" I asked. The old guy pointed to a board against the wall to his left. I read what it said. Standard rooms, $79 a night for single occupancy, $99 for double and $129 for a family. Rooms facing the beach are $109 a night for single occupancy, $129 for double and $159 for a family." "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me," I said. "Still off season, though its supposed to get pretty warm this weekend, so you should luck out with the weather. How many nights you staying?" "Probably check out Sunday morning," I answered. "Just you in the room?" he asked. Looking at the board, I thought I would save us a few dollars and answered, "Yeah, just me."

"Young lad like you should have no problem finding a pretty lady to share the bed with," he said, typing the keyboard of a computer. Reviewing something on the screen, he added, "I have a room facing the beach, has a patio. You want it?" "Sure," I said, laughing a little at the old dude. Why do old people often hint at sex with young people? Maybe they like to think they were young again and getting some. "I'll need a credit card and license, please," he requested. As we took care of the paperwork, the guy told me there was an outdoor pool in the back and a hot tub. The pool is not heated, so it's a little chilly he warned. He handed me a key and told me to pull all the way to the back to unload the car, top floor, room 217. I thanked the guy, took the key and left the office. The sun was almost up at this point. I got back in the car and Adam was still snoozing away. I didn't have far to move the car. I would have left it where it was, actually since we didn't have any bags. But I didn't want the old guy to see Adam get out of the car. Back a little further, we would be out of his view. In another parking spot by the stairs, it was time to get Adam up. Instead of just calling his name, I put my hand on his leg, high up on his thigh, almost at his crotch. I had to touch him after being this close to him for so many hours. Shaking his leg, enjoying the feel of his meaty legs, I said his name. He was sleeping pretty deeply, and I was able to get another few seconds of leg before he stirred.

"We're here," I said, removing my hand before he opened his eyes. "Really, awesome," he responded, taking a second to wake himself, opening his eyes and lifting his head. I got out of the car, walking around to Adam's side and opened the door for him. Cracking his neck, he slowly stepped out of the car. "Damn, it's chilly," he said, standing up. Like me, he had on a T- Shirt and jeans. We had been wearing sweaters and jackets back home, but we shed those off in the car. Adam gave a huge stretch, raising his hands to the shy. As he did so, his t-shirt lifted, revealing his lower stomach and belly button, treasure trail coming out from under his jeans. I was sleepy, but my dick was awake. At the site of Adam's skin, my dick lengthened. This was going to be a difficult weekend. I was going to have to pull one off and get rid of some of my horniness, cause Adam was making me horny as hell. "Yeah," I replied, taking my eyes off of Adam's hard stomach and
 looking at the sky. "Guy at the front desk said it was supposed to warm up, so hopefully we'll be able to use the beach some." "I hope so," Adam said, "Otherwise, we're going to be doing a lot of drinking." He was looking more awake. "What do you mean, ¡¥otherwise', we'll definitely be doing a lot of drinking either way." "I knew you'd say that."

"Let's get to the room and catch some Z's, I'm exhausted from driving." We grabbed our sweaters and jackets and walked up the stairs to the room. We came upon room 217 and I opened the door. The room was on the smaller side, bathroom to the left and then a small closet. Stepping further into the room, there was a couple of dressers, a wicker love seat and only one king sized bed. Adam noticed that as well and said, "There's only one bed." "Damn, I said single occupancy to save a couple of dollars, but I still thought there would be two beds," I explained. "Huh?" I told Adam about the prices on the board and how I thought I could save about 30 dollars a night. But I thought that they were charging by the number of people, not the number of beds. I assumed that there would still be two beds. And for you, the readers, really, I did think just that. This wasn't a plan of mine at all, although I was completely content with the way this had turned out. Unless, of course, Adam wanted to get another room, which I had to offer. "Later today, when the guy who checked me in is gone, we can get another room with two beds," I suggested. "That's cool, whatever," Adam said as he walked past the bed to a set of sliding glass windows covered with drapes.

 I followed him to the doors as he pulled the drapes open. The doors led to a small porch over looking the beach and the ocean. Directly below us was the pool and hot tub. "Nice view," Adam said, stepping out to the porch, waves crashing the only sound in the early morning peace. The porch has a table, umbrella and set of patio chairs on it. "Yeah, beautiful," I replied looking to the left and the right, endless miles of empty beach and water visible in every direction. "Well, I'm going to try and catch a few hours of sleep so I don't sleep the entire day away tomorrow," I said. "No man, don't crash yet. The sun is about to rise, sit on the porch with me and watch it come up," he offered. "OK, good idea." As exhausted as I was, how could I say no to such a thing. And so Adam and I sat on the porch, chair next to chair, watching the horizon as the sun came up. It was a spectacular sunrise, bringing in the new day. I watched Adam as much as I did the sun, his handsome face staring out to sea as the sun came above the water line. As I was looking at him, he turned and looked at me. "Nice, huh," he said with a big smile. "Beautiful," I answered, but I wasn't talking about the sun. I needed to get to bed before I did something stupid in my grogginess. After watching for another couple of minutes, my eyes began to close. "Adam, I can't keep my eyes open, I need to get some sleep." "Go ahead," he said, "I'm going to sit here a little while longer." "You can have the bed, I'll crash on the floor," I suggested. "Nah Bro, you did most of the driving, you take the bed. I'll crash on the floor." "You sure?" "Yeah." "OK, thanks," I said. I turned to go into the room, but stopped.

Looking at Adam over my right shoulder, I added. "You can get in the bed too, if the floor's like totally uncomfortable or something. It's not like this is the first bed that we shared." It was awkward, the way it came out, but I felt oddly comfortable offering Adam to share the bed with me. "Cool," was all that Adam responded. The room was a little chilly, so I left my t-shirt, pants and socks on. I pulled down the covers and got in bed. After all that driving, the bed felt amazing. I was excited about the three days that Adam and I would be spending together, just the two of us. And that is what I was thinking about as I fell asleep. Some hours later, I heard the door to the room close, waking me. I opened my eyes and came upon the alarm clock. 12:37 the alarm clock read. I looked around the room trying to identify what the noise that woke me up was. Adam was standing by the dresser with a bunch of bags in his hand. "Hey Adam," I said, sitting up in
 bed and rubbing my eyes. "The zombie is awake," Adam answered. "Yeah, you sleep at all?" "I fell asleep for a couple of hours, then ran out and picked up some stuff for us." "Stuff?" "Yeah, toiletries and shit. I  picked up some clothes too." "Nice. How is it out there?" "It's nice, sunny, like 70 degrees. Not hot, but a lot warmer than home." "Warm enough to use the beach?" "I think so, yeah. I don't know about going in the water, but I guess we'll see. I'm going to jump in the shower. I got some coffee too, I know how you need your coffee in the morning." Adam knows me all too well from sleeping over the House after parties. I can't get myself moving till I get come caffeine in me.

"Damn man, you're on the ball, thanks." "No problem," he said and went into the bathroom. Before getting out of bed, I noticed that the other side of the bed had been slept in. When I had got in the bed, I only pulled the covers of my side, the other side still made. But now the sheets were tossed and the pillows shifted. So Adam had slept in the bed. No big deal, but it was nice to know that Adam had slept next to me. I got out of bed and grabbed my coffee. After a few sips, it hit me. Shit, I got to call Evan. He's probably freaking out. I went to the phone and dialed our number. He was probably in the Student Center, but I'd leave him a message. I did get the machine. "Evan, hey, it's John. Listen man, I'm in Florida with Adam. We just started driving, like a spontaneous thing, and we ended up here. We should be back on Sunday, but I'll try and catch up with you later. Tell Matt for me. And if my parents call, don't tell them I am in Florida, just tell them I am out. Laters man."

I went through the bags that Adam brought back. The boy went to town. He bought two bathing suits, 4 surfer shirts, two pairs of flip flops, and two beach towels for the day. He also purchased clothes to wear at night, a couple of Khaki shorts and nicer t- shirts. A few minutes later, Adam came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. I was sitting on the wicker couch, drinking my coffee and looking out the patio doors. "Shower was awesome," Adam said as pulled the clothes out of the bag. "Yeah?" I asked, checking him out nonchalantly as lay the clothes out on the bed. "Hot shower felt good after being in the car for so long. You see the clothes I got?" "I did, nice job." "I figured we're about the same size, so hope they fit you." Adam was standing facing the bed, and I was kind of behind him. He dropped his towel, exposing his naked ass to me.

Running the Lacrosse field gave Adam a hard, firm ass. It was basically smooth, but you could see that he had some dark hairs between the crack of his ass when he shifted weight on his legs. The sight of which made my dick start to go hard. I watched quietly as Adam pulled the tags off of one of the bathing suits, tossing them on the bed. He turned and faced me and I could see his manhood. I looked for a second, but quickly averted my eyes. It was hardly the fist time I had seen Adam naked, but it always had the same effect on me, instant erection. "I'm going to wear these ones, is that alright?" he asked, holding the shorts up. "Yeah, you bought them, you wear what you want," I responded. He was holding them just above waist level, so I could look at them and his dick at the same time. His dick was full and hanging at about 4 inches, surrounded by a nice bush of light brown pubic hair. "OK, I want," he said, bending down and stepping into them. I watched the nylon shorts slide up his legs. I had to jump in the shower and cool down. "I guess I'll jump in the shower now," I said as Adam stuffed his dick and balls comfortably in the shorts and tied the string of the waistband. "Hurry up so we can hit the beach," he responded.

I made my way into the bathroom, stripped and got in the shower. I turned on the water. My dick was bone hard. I was fucking horny. I grabbed the soap and started lathering my chest as the shower sprayed on my shoulders. I soaped up my crotch, massaged my erection. It felt damn good. I needed to jerk off so that I wasn't throwing wood all day. I typically jerk off at least once a day, usually twice, and spending the entire day in the car yesterday, I hadn't had the opportunity at all. I closed my eyes as I continued to stroke my soap lubed dick. I imagined Adam's ass that I just saw a few minutes ago. In my mind, I got up off the wicker couch and stepped behind Adam. I pushed Adam on the bed, chest down, so that his ass was sticking up in the air towards me. I pulled my own pants down as I rubbed my hand up and down his exposed furry crack. As this scene ran through my head, I began quickening up the pace of my strokes. It was only going to take another 30 seconds before I was shooting all over the shower wall. Getting right to it, in my fantasy, I spread Adam ass cheeks, revealing his pucker. It quivered, inviting me to stick my ultra hard cock up his ass. Adam didn't fight me at all. He wanted to be fucked real bad. "Do it, Walsh," he begged, "I want to feel your dick in my ass.' I gave him what he wanted and drove my shaft right in. Adam moaned like a mad man, but kept his ass high, hungry for more. I started with a rapid pace, Adam grabbing the sheets with his fists at the pleasure pounding I was giving him. Meanwhile, I started fucking my fist in the shower, not stroking, but pushing my slippery dick in and out of my hand with my hips. It wouldn't be long, just a few more thrusts. I felt my dick getting bigger in my fist, expanding at the impending orgasm. I couldn't wait to cum.

"Walsh, you mind if I shave while you shower?" "What?" I asked, suddenly aware that Adam was in the bathroom with me. I immediately stopped stroking, caught off guard. My balls screamed: "No! We're fucking there, a few more strokes." "I want to shave so I can get some color, is that cool?" "Ah, yeah, it's cool." "Thanks," he responded and I heard him turn the water in the sink on. Instead of going down, my dick seemed to get harder now that Adam was in the room and my desire to finish jerking off only grew. Should I? The nasty part of me said: "Hell, yeah. Jerk off while Adam is in the room, that's fucking hot." So I did. I kept my strokes at a non-audible pace, jerking off knowing that Adam was only a few steps away from me, shaving, bare-chested and wearing only a bathing suit.

Back to fucking Adam in my mind, I had flipped Adam over on the bed, so I could see the lust on his face as I pistoned into him. He was biting his lower lip, the muscles of his chest jiggling with the motion of our penetration. Adam started jerking his own hard dick as I drove into him, rubbing his prostate, and he spewed like a geyser. That scene, in my mind, caused me to start shooting in the shower. My legs gave a little and I was light headed as shot after shot of hot jism left my cock. I kept my breathing low so that Adam couldn't hear me. The orgasm was intense and my body shuddered as the warm water ran over my body and swollen dick. Fuck, I wish every jerk off orgasm was like that, it was almost as good as the real thing. And I'm sure that Adam being right there had a big thing to do with that. As my bliss subsided, I began to feel a little guilty. The silence in the bathroom only seemed to add to my guilt, so I started a conversation with Adam as I finished soaping the rest of my body and my dick deflated. "We should grab something to eat and bring to the beach. I just realized how hungry I am," I suggested. "Sounds good to me," Adam responded.

**** We had a good time at the beach. It was empty, so it must have been evident that we were tourists. It was a nice day, but not nice enough for the locals to hit the beach. Which was fine with me, I wanted the
time with Adam. We pretty much lounged on our towels just talking. We put our feet in the water, but it was definitely too cold to go swimming. Around 4 o'clock, the wind picked up and the beach became chilly. So we picked up our stuff and headed back to the room. On the way, we picked up a bottle of vodka, some orange juice, beer and a deck of cards. Back in the room, we watched some TV and started drinking, which is exactly what I would be doing in the dorms. We played cards for a couple of hours, having a good time. "I must say Adam, I'm very impressed," I said at one point. "At what?" "That you haven't spoken about or called Michele all day."

"I thought about it, but figure, what the hell, if she said we'd break up over this, then we're broken up till I get back." "That's might brave of you bud, or is that the booze speaking?" "90% booze," he said with a smile, "10% bravery." "Well, if you're broken up, does that mean that you will be on the prowl tonight?" Adam chuckled, "I don't know about that."

**** We showered and got dressed and figured we would walk the strip and see if anything was doing. Much like the beach, the bars were empty. But we were kind of expecting that. We were in and out a couple of different places, having a drink at each one. We were at this one bar and asked the bartender where a good place to go was. He said that there was pretty much nothing going on, but on Thursdays a lot of the locals went to one of the hotel bars for Karaoke. Friday was a little hotter than Thursday, so we hit the beach. We walked along the beach to a promenade that was in front of one of the hotels. There was a Fat Tuesday's bar on the beach with some people hanging out, so we decided that we would hang out there for awhile.

The Reggae Band. After having a few drinks we went back to the room. "Dude, let's use the hot tub," Adam suggested. "We can do that. Bring a couple of beers, maybe light a joint up if there is no one out there." "Walsh, there isn't going to be anyone out there."

Adam and I wind up getting really fucked up one night while in FL (after you read the chapter, this will make sense), and fucking. It started off innocently, lying bed. Two horny guys. A touch of the leg, restlessness, one thing led to another, and it ended with Adam fucking me. Adam was an engaged partner, exploring my dody with his hands and he even tried sucking on my dick, though it only lasted a couple of minutes. But we fucked for like a half hour before he came. It was an amazing experience for me, something that I had been thinking about and wanting for a long time. A fantasy come true. But in reality, fantasies don't come true.

We fell asleep, and the next morning wasn't good. When I woke up, Adam wasn't in bed. He was outside on the deck, pacing back and forth. I could tell from the look on his face when he saw that I was standing at the door that there would be no good morning kiss. He was very apologetic, "we never should have done that." After briefly talking about it, we tried to hit the beach. But eventually, after a whole lot of silence, Adam said that he felt like going home. So we hopped back into my car for 16 hours of silence between us. I was so afraid to say anything. I could feel our friendship slipping away. And I thought if we discussed it, in the confines of a car, it would only hurt the situation more. Better to leave it and talk about it tomorrow, after Adam has had some alone time. We had quick conversations in the car, but nothing of magnitude. And after that, things were never quite the same between Adam and I. We discussed what happened, but not really.
 Just "it can never happen again, and we can't tell anyone."

Adam's silence on the issue was enough for me to figure out what was going on. He was full of guilt. I think he really liked it, I know he liked from the look on his face and the moans as we fucked, but was ready to propose to Michele, ready to graduate, and this sort of confusion was the last thing that he needed. And me, I represented that confusion, perhaps a deep, hidden, pushed back feeling that Adam has always know about himself. That he was attarcted to boys and girls. I cried a lot over it actually. He stopped calling me regularly, converations in the student center and parties was colder than it was before, and he started spending a lot more time with Michele. By the time he graduated, we were getting closer to the way things were. But distance doesn't help. I went to his graduation, we hugged good bye. I'll be around he said. But knowing Michele, he wouldn't be around that much. I did see him here and again. We didn't speak on the phone too much.

Adam eventually married Michele. I was at their wedding. Adam became a NJ State Trooper and lives at the Jersey Shore. No children yet, that I am aware of. Since moving to GA, I haven't spoken or seen Adam in probably close to a year. Time heals, but life moves on.

Next semester I was pledge master, and was busier than hell. The younger generation was moving up in the ranks of the fraternity, and although I thought of Adam frequently, I had a lot going on, and my life was about to change drastically... To be continued.

["To be continued" he said...but he has yet to post anything new in more than seven years.]