Watching Him Go

Giving up belief in religion liberated my mind on so many matters. The belief that my day to day routines and actions weren’t being noted by some omnipotent/omnipresent figure surprisingly adds some relief to life. Well for myself anyways. One outlook that seemed to take president in my new view on life was my sexual preferences. Now I say that with no intent to imply ‘oh I was in the ‘closet’ but thanks to atheism I now feel I love male genitalia not female.’ That just simply is not the case. Perhaps a childhood recollection will help clarify things.
I recall rather well a time when I left a friend’s house as a young teen and thinking ‘If you ever have thoughts like that again hang yourself.’ Now that is the mindset of a child, I say ‘child’ not sparingly as growing up amidst a homophobic/nazi sympethizer father and family riddled with religious attributes one can only describe my teen years as childish in most regards. However I shall not dive overly deep into that as I imagine anyone with enough life experience will know they are never truly adults until life is seen through your own eyes, not another’s. (That includes not only real life but movies, music, books and other art forms.) That’s not to say other people’s perceptions are wrong but how can you ever know yourself unless you see, feel and touch what another has done and simply conjured up words to shall we say, paint a picture for you?
So when it came my turn to turn my back on god as it were, life became that little bit more interesting. I was allowed to see beauty in both male and females; however one can only spend so long in the grasps of a homophobic environment before people begin to class you as one of their own. So when the night came that one of the figures, mainly my father, drove me from the house with a bottle of jack daniels; upset and bitter. It was no real shock when within the hour I was doing things with a gay friend of mines that let’s just say, would have earned me a trip to the gallows as a wayward boy.
From there on in I’d crossed that boundary. Spat in the face of religious oppression. My only gripe now was that I had begun to imagine that I wasn’t actually all that interested in the male of the species. Sure beautiful males are in abundance just as females are but knowing beauty doesn’t mean you want to sleep with beauty, does it? I never closed my mind though. It remained open as I’d shared sleep and oral sex with men and it didn’t feel wrong, nor right, but not every woman I had been with felt right.

The time approached for my parents to go their annual holiday abroad. I don’t recall what destination it was but it took them away for three weeks which suited me fine. I’d sent copious amounts of text messages round my friends, informing them of the empty house situation. Few got back to me but that worried me not all that much. My friends were odd like that; two would reply but ten would show up.
A week passed with minimal appearances by my supposed friends. The odd couple would appear not long before I’d given up hope and decided upon retiring to bed and being the sort of person I am I would consume a large black coffee and welcome them. The same routine carried on into week two of my parents being away. The routine grew old, quickly. So I found myself browsing the internet for a casual partner that would make it worth my while staying up until midnight. Sure they wouldn’t be as sincere as my friends but you can’t, well I felt I couldn’t, ask a bunch of men’s men for a cuddle or heart to heart. You could try but I could safely assume that I might earn more alone time than together time if I had.
As the end of the week approached I’d registered with some internet website in hope of finding a mature woman to spend time with. I would send tonnes of messages with no real results, all my profiling site’s again returned nothing too worthwhile pursuing. Back to late night black coffee and nostalgic ramblings with my friends I went.
Week three had arrived with much resentment on my behalf. My parents had been gone for a fortnight and all I’d managed to do was watch movies, smoke, drink coffee and self please to what may have been. Feeling sick to the bone didn’t cover how I felt. However I tried my best to see the positive side of things (there weren’t but the mind is a marvellous spin doctor).
What drove me to sign into my messenger program under my job email address was more than likely boredom. However it was to my surprise that people had been adding this address. I was receiving these invites to chat to people that were either; A. Old college acquaintances. B. Random folk who might of added me from a profiling site. I accepted them all as with the last week already bringing up the rear I’d have to act fast if I didn’t want the three weeks of bachelorhood to be a complete ruin.
I scrolled through all those who had added me and only one (imagine that...) was of particular interest to me. We shared similar interests; both rather tired and pissed off at the world, sick of model friends and felt restrained by family practises. That in mind not a lot of time passed before we decided upon meeting the next day. Quick work on my behalf? perhaps so. That’s if it had been me who initiated the rendezvous. The internet being the internet however, one can never truly call a spade a spade until one has laid eyes upon said subject. That in mind, the hours that lay in wait for our meet were somewhat strenuous upon the ol’ nerves.

I awaited his arrival in Glasgow central. His train was coming in around half past twelve. I checked my mobile to see that I was in actual fact half an hour early so made a quick exit out the east side of the station and slipped into my city haunt. Within seconds of being aloft the bar stool the girl was already pouring my Jack Daniels and Coke. I signalled her to make it a double, she nodded and left me staring at the clock. The second hand seemed to have a delay in it’s progression. I continued to stare as I noticed the bar girl in my peripherals.
“It’s a clock Cam...”
I blinked and turned to face her. “I think something is wrong with the second hand...”She didn’t bother turning her full body, just her head to face the clock. “um...Seems fine to me...”I sighed and gave over the three pounds fifty it was for my drink.
Watching the last drop run from my glass into my mouth I knew by the time it tickled my throat it would finally be time to leave but as I glanced at the clock again it was just a quarter past twelve. The bar girl approached and asked if I’d like the same again, I quickly nodded.
“No wait, no. I can’t. I have to leave now. “ with that I said my good-byes and was on my way.
I found myself back on the spot where I had prematurely arrived earlier on. Except this time round my stomach was doing double the amount of nervous summersaults. The clock had barely crept upon twenty past as I checked it again. How I loathed these moments in time. All would be over with a simple hug or peck upon the check from those you wait upon but until that moment.
Just then my phone vibrated. A text from the guy I was due to meet. He informed me that the train was on time.
I exit my inbox and open the games section, starting a game of solitaire to help distract the nerves.

“Cameron...”
There came my stomach into my mouth. I lifted my sight from the mobile phone and found myself face to face with the guy I’d spoke to for all of eight hours the previous night. Only the figure that stood before me was so much more than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine. He stood around six foot, black hair ran round the line of his jaw and no fat bulged from the tight t-shirt and loose fit jeans that he was sporting.
“Sorry I think I have the wrong person.”
My eyes settled on his now. “No you’ve got the right guy. I’m just a little taken aback at you actually being what you described online.”
“I could say the same for you...”
Men don’t blush, not in front of other men. I slapped his arm gently and proposed we head back to mines and get some gaming done.
He smiled and rather stealthily pinched my rear. I turned with wide eyes and watched as his arms rose. “I’m impulsive!” We left the train station with smiles that nerves wouldn’t dare touch.

The hour’s and the predictive awkward moments of two strangers coming together passed rather quickly once home. He never lifted his hand to me as he done in the station. Which arose some minor worries but I soon suppressed such silly thoughts.
After switching the games console off it where he, Chris, that suggested we retire to the bedroom to watch a movie. I never felt shock at the proposal, no. It was more nervousness but the nerves that would come moments before seeing your most favoured band or movie star. So with as little hesitation as possible and a collective response despite inwardly feeling giddy, I told him to go to my room and I’d pour us another whiskey. He did so, giving me a parting kiss as he fled upstairs.
I feel I must comment on how surreal this recollection is becoming, but reader, do believe me when I say you’re not alone on that assumption. I stood with the bottle of whiskey slowly watching the amber liquid dance around the walls of each glass I tilted it towards. I wasn’t the sort to sit and quiz myself...’is this really happening?!’ I knew that I was perfectly awake but I still felt justification in having some doubt as to how well proceedings were actually going. Attractive, intelligent and possessing a devilish side that leaks out whenever doubt crawls through one’s mind. My day dreaming came to an abrupt end when I heard my front door open and footsteps aplenty pile down my hallway. I mouthed ‘No...not tonight...’ but it was tonight. Tonight was, as I had stupidly forgotten ‘Big Fight Night’ My friends always came to mine’s for such occasions as my parents had every channel except adult ones. I rested both hands on the kitchen work top and downed my head, gazing at the moon’s light that danced across the cold tiles. The bellows of already half drunken men travelled into the dining room, all sorts of greetings and jesting insults rung out. I took a deep breath and turned to face them as they came in arms raised.
After a few sluggish embraces I excused myself and went for my room. I could hear some hurried actions taking place behind the door so I softly chapped before entering. It was my own room, sure, but the poor guy’s probably went from being half nude with a DVD in hand to being fully clothed, heart in hand.
“Stay there!” He shouted. “I’ve read about this stuff; Luring a gay man into a situation where he’s only going to leave in an ambulance or boot of a car!”
“Don’t be so silly Chris. After the night we’ve spent together you’d automatically assume such a macabre ending to the evening? They’ve just came over to see the fight, I forgot all about it being on tonight.”“Well don’t let me get in the way.”
He charged past me, not listening to my plea’s.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs my friends began to pour from the living room. Even they made an attempt to talk to him but he slid through them as if they didn’t exist.
“Chris come on...you’re over reacting.”“You think? What about all the things we discussed last night. Do they match up with how things are currently?”
“I forgot about the fight. They always come over for the fight.”
All the while my friends stood, happy to watch.
“Yea I must have forgotten the part where they ‘only come to visit when it suits them.’
Now one of my friends did pipe up. “What’s this faggoty looking bitch saying Cameron?”
Chris held his hands out. “Need I say more Cameron?” The way he said my name felt like someone had just rammed a knife in my back. The only problem was, It wasn’t me who must of felt like there was a knife lodged in my back. He turned, hauled the door open.
“Enjoy your night, lads!” I jumped slightly as the door slammed.
“The fuck was that?”
I would of replied to whatever friend it was that asked the question but all I could concentrate on was Chris’ footsteps as they faded out along the stone ridden drive way.
“Would you like us to leave you alone?”
I knew who the voice was now. It was my best friend, my friend of twenty-three years. I rested the DVD that Chris had dropped on the banister and trudged down the stairs. “Nah, it’s fine. Stay, I need you guy’s to stay.”
“No worries matey.” Neil began. “What was this shit about us only visiting when it suited us?”Surprisingly I didn’t hesitate when giving my reply. “He’s just bitter, boyfriend dumped him due to similar circumstances. Came round here to chill out but I think he assumed the worst when he heard you guy’s arrive.”Ryan then spoke. “Ah, typical queer; everything has to be a drama.”
I grimaced and lead the way back into the living room.
“Don’t worry mate, we’ve got plenty drugs and drink to help you forget that fag.”
“Yea...”
I slid into the recliner and switched the TV as everyone else found their place to sit. After finding the channel I found something else to watch that seemed way more enlightening than men punching the living shit out of each another.
Each one of my ‘friends’ had already helped themselves to food, drink and lay with their feet, still hugged by dirty shoes, upon my mother’s living room furniture. They were right about one thing. I would need drugs to help suppress the fact that the stranger who’s now en route home has more manners than the friends I chose over him. I exited the living room, leaving behind a few enquiries as to where I was off to, slipped my hoody on and quietly crept out the front door. I never stopped running until I found myself within sight of the bus stop that Chris stood at.
I watched his head move slightly to the side, had he heard my quick steps draw to a halt? If he had to made no effort to properly investigate as the headlights of the bus stained the road he stood aside and out went his arm to signal it to pull over. I opened my mouth in protest but remained mute. The bus came to a standstill, the door threw open and the light poured an almost angelic glow around Chris as he boarded. I heard his change rattle into the money device, but not his voice.
“Chris...” I found my voice, and my feet found movement. The doors rattled shut and the driver went into gear. I watched Chris walk towards the back of the bus, mobile in hand, watched him sit, head remaining focused on the front of the bus. My pocket then vibrated.
The text read. “Not nice being left in the dark is it?”
I hadn’t felt my eye’s well up, or felt the tear slide the length of my nose. Only did I notice it when it splashed across the screen of my phone. I pressed ‘reply’ and began.
“I didn’t mean...” No, that wouldn’t do. “Hi Chris, I’m sorry I really didn’t...”
A sudden screech echoed through the maze of streets that I stood centre of. I flipped my phone back over and into my pocket and jogged the few feet between me and the bus stop. Glancing to my right I saw nothing bus amber stained road and pavement. To my left, I saw the same, but with Chris charging in and out of each lights reach. Similar to the buttock pinch in central my eyes widened.
“Don’t think, just run!” He shouted. And in a freakish change of emotion I was now a ten year old running from some angry parent.
We came to a halt under a tree arch. I quizzed him about what had just taken place.
Catching his breath as well as still laughing he replied. “I’m impulsive, it has it’s downsides as well as it’s upsides.”
I smiled and grabbed his hand. “Let’s head back and put that DVD on.”
“Won’t your friends...”
“They will have their chance to prove they are more than residence hunters.”