Very early in my coming to grips with being gay, I met the guy who I would lose my virginity with, the one who would be my boyfriend. For privacy purposes (I don’t know if he is even still alive) I will refer to him as “Jason”.
I met Jason through a mutual friend and was immediately enamored though he was only sixteen and I was twenty-one. We immediately hit it off and I invited him to spend the night. We ‘experimented’ as he had thought about it and I was only too eager to participate with him. Of course I wasn’t ready to admit that I was gay, because I knew what happened to all gays.
It would be almost a year when I ran into him again at the convenience store I worked at. I had my own place then and he was only too happy to come home with me. It was then that I found that I had my father’s and my mother’s addictive personality. My drug of choice? Gay sex. But I wasn’t ready to admit I was gay. I was ‘experimenting’. It was very exhilarating and I was high off the experience. I thought it would happen again the next time. It didn’t, not that it was bad, but it couldn’t compare to that first time. In the mean time I was getting more depressed. By the third time I just wanted to die again.
Instead of taking my own life though, I found God.
After my perceived rejection by Christians (this was all deception by Satan), I fully embraced the gay lifestyle. It was a living hell. But having embraced the life, I thought I had to have a boyfriend, and being that Jason was willing we got together. But we were anything but monogamous (as I found out that most gay men aren’t). I would be immediately jealous if I found out that he was with anybody else, even though I had been myself (pretty hypocritical of me).
Not long after one of my affairs offered me money to continue to have sex with him, I broke up with Jason and moved away, trying (in vain) to get right with God. But he continued to show up in my life at the most inopportune times and we always wound up having sex.
I knew he wasn’t good for me, as he was very manipulative. I smoked a total of seven cigarettes, and every one was after sex with him. I always wound up initiating whatever sexual contact that we had, but then he would take control and he would be the only one who was pleaured and I was left feeling like his slut. He knew I was seeking God, so he got into the act, would talk about God and then we would wind up having more sex. Several times he talked about how holy our encounters were. It was just a ruse to get me into bed, taking advantage of my weakness.
The last time I saw him was right immediately after a fight with my wife (yes, a same-sex attracted guy can be with a woman) over of all things – laundry. She was lucky I knew how to run a washer, as my mother did not teach me many of the life skills I needed. He showed up again and we had sex again. It was something I still regret. Not only was I unfaithful to my wife, I had acted again on my homosexual urges.
After it was over I told him it could never happen again. He just laughed and said that I was only good for sex anyway. I never saw him again. He wasn’t looking too good…