How I wish it had gone - 1. The Setup

Have you ever had something from your past that you regret? I mean, of course we all do, but something that returns to your thoughts over and over across the years and decades. A proverbial "what if" that must be chewed over and over again, never softening. I believe they stick so strongly, because our subconscious mind can recognize that these occurrences were branches, a chance for our lives to turn out significantly differently than it did. Whereas the type of breakfast cereal one pours 10 years ago would change nearly nothing, had you actually said hello to that cute waiter, or called your date back who had that magical something, maybe life would be different now. Maybe not radically different, but some important memory added to an otherwise empty or vanilla portion of the past. This is a story about one of these "what ifs" Some of it is true, but others are just: how I wish it had gone...

Two weeks before high school started, I read a book that changed my life. It was cheesy, if one were to read it with an adult's perspective, but as a fresh faced 15 year old, it was inspirational. It followed an accident prone boy who followed a dare from a school bully and got into great shape, won the girl, and admiration of his friends. It was just what a doughy social outcast like myself needed. The biggest difference was that I didn't want the girl, I wanted the boy. But being the son of a pastor, attending church three times a week, and attending a private school, well that was a secret I didn't want anyone to know. Not now, maybe not ever.

I wasn't even sure that I was gay, or even what gay was. I lived such a sheltered life, even R rated movies were out, and our home video collection was carefully screened and mostly from Disney. The car radio was constantly set to either Christian, Country, or Christian-country music. I knew Ellen Degeneres was gay, and that was bad for some reason. My dad answered AT&T calls during dinner saying that as long as they granted their same sex partnered employees health benefits, he would never switch to them. Fertile soil for figuring out one's sexuality, right? Despite that, I knew I liked looking at the guy's bodies in my class, if one went to remove a sweater or hoodie, my eyes would dart to catch a glimpse of their exposed stomachs, memorizing the lines of their abs for later fantasies. I even got turned on reading "Lord of the Flies", how messed up is that? But the concept of all those boys, alone on an island without grownups wearing nothing but underwear was incredibly titillating to me despite resembling Piggy more than the other characters. All of my efforts to gain closeness were directed at the boys in my class. I wanted so badly to have a best friend, someone to be with, but at the same time to touch and be touched by. It was as clear a definition of gay as my 15 year old mind could comprehend.

The previous year was a bust. I had moved from another state, didn't know anyone in my class, whereas they all knew each other from attending this selective private school together since kindergarten. Add to that was the fact that every other guy in my tiny class was sporty, fit, rich, and white. I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had never played sports and my body showed it, my Arabic mother assured my features differed from their's, and neither of my parents had well paying jobs. So instead of pulling up in a new model corvette or land rover, I bicycled to school. Boy was that an argument, my overbearing parents were worried about traffic, getting lost, or breaking down; but after many nights of arguing, I managed to gain some freedom by way of two wheels. I even learned how to repair and maintain the bicycle in our workshop behind the house, and the hours spent back there contributed to a new found sense of independence.

So back to the book, my take away was the physical transformation, and I'd worry about getting the guy later. I was chubby, and hated the fact. I didn't realize this till two years before, when I was playing flag-football in Texas, and we decided to play shirts vs skins. I ended up on the shirts team, with a boy who might have been my first crush. I still remember his name to this day, his face, his cute lips and eyes, he had this flip over hairstyle that was really handsome. I remember being excited to see him remove his shirt, he had a tight youthful body. After removing my own shirt, ready to play, he turned to look at me and said, "We don't let whales play". I can't even remember if it hurt my feelings at the time, but I do remember going home that evening to look at myself in the mirror, and grabbing my love handles. I had never really examined my body before that day, but his mean-spirited comment prompted me to really gaze hard at myself in my parent's bathroom mirror. What I saw didn't impress me. I was tall enough, but I had a round face, and a doughy body. Nothing like my crush's tight figure. This marked the beginning of when I was ashamed to take my shirt off in public, when I knew I did not look how I wanted to look.

This next year as I entered high school would be dedicated to sports. I'd sign up for every sport I could do, and start lifting. I knew I could join the soccer team, basketball, and track & field. I had never played any of them before, and having slow reflexes and no endurance, it would be an uphill battle. The plus side is that all the teams were filled with handsome guys, soccer in particular had some of the older guys with the muscle mass and hair a few extra years of testosterone had provided. I made their physiques my goal, I had a few years before I reached their age, so if I threw myself into an exercise routine and maintained it, I could be fit and trim by Senior year.

I knew the gym opened early and I could just wake up an hour before my sister, bike in and lift before school. If I was lucky, I would be the only one there and could avoid any awkward interactions with the much sportier guys. I was about to find out on the first day that I would not be alone, but whether that was lucky, or unlucky, remains to be seen...