F. Jason Whitaker Writer

Dreams linger. Early morning. Watching the sun slowly appear. The darkness slowly replaced by the light.  Today is a new day. I greet the day.

I watched a show yesterday that made me sad. Not depressed. Just sad. I was sad the rest of the day. Most of the time I avoid things that would make me sad because I will be sad for at least the rest of the day. There's something about going to sleep at night, dreaming, and waking up a new person. I mean refreshed. I mean renewed. For me that middle section, the dreams, is the most exciting part of my life. In my dreams I am surrounded by people, I go places, and I have a life. In the other parts of my days I do not. Sometimes I look forward to dreaming all day.

Snow. Snow falls around me. I stand in the middle of the road. There's no one else on the road. I spin in place. Snow lands on my shoulders. It's cold but I have no desire to go back indoors. The sounds of a snowy day surround me. The winter wind blowing through bare tree branches. The sound of snow crunching beneath my feet.  If only everyday was a snow day.

The darkness of my room surrounds me. The silence inside, the noise of the world outside barely audible. My thoughts fill me. Memories and dreams and hopes and prayers. I remember things gone and things I hope to be. A random meeting in the past. A random man, older man, his mouth devouring me. It feels great. What's nice about this memory is that he left afterwards. I filled him and he left. There was always something missing. Love. Effection. Desire beyond my imagination. I imagined myself with a boy my age while the older man was down below. Times gone.

Stars above. I walk down a path in the local park. It's nice outside. I walk with no destination. The silence of night surrounds me. It's not a true silence as in an absence of sound but a calm that soothes me. My feet move forward. My mind is miles away. My mind is in the past. When I was younger I was in this park. I met an older man. He took me back to his place after a brief conversation. Small talk. In his apartment he undressed so quickly. He had hair on his chest. He took my hand. Guided me to the bed. Lowered me back onto the bed. His bed was soft and inviting. He undressed me slowly as if he were trying to hold onto each second. He wanted me. I looked down after he finished. My clothes were tossed somewhere. His lips explored my neck. His tongue moved as if tracing my outline. His tongue teased my nipples. His mouth moved further down. I was shaking from nerves. This was the first time I had ever been with anyone. I watched as his mouth consumed me. I could feel his wa...

Saturday night. What am I doing? Looking at myself in the mirror just in case I actually go out tonight. My flat is boring to me but going out is not much more enticing. My computer sits on my desk. I could chat a bit but I would have to come up with something to chat about. Will I go out? I am a single gay boy. I have chosen to be single. I am single because it's best to be single. The truth is not so grand. I am single because I am afraid of asking a boy. I watch the clock. I watch each second pass. It's like I'm counting down to nothing. Will I sit here the rest of the night? I grab my key. I lock the door. I go downstairs. I am ready to get the night started, but first I shall take a brief walk in the nearby park.

I'm sitting in my room, on my bed, waiting for my parents to knock on the door. I am rehearsing, in my head, that conversation. The conversation where they either tell me that they accept me for the person I am or they reject me. They might consider ways to fix me or change me. I am nervous. I am also excited. I have a boyfriend.

Silence. The sounds of people eating.  I stop eating. I clear my throat. Everyone stops eating.  This is my moment. I will not mess this up. "This is Matt. He's my boyfriend. I'm gay." Silence. The silence continues for a moment then everyone goes back to eating. I'm not sure if they did not respond because they found it to be not a big deal that I'm gay or they are not sure what to say. I decide to wait and see if anyone says anything after dinner.

I'm not a turkey guy. I eat it every Thanksgiving but the rest of the year I do not eat turkey. I'm considering the best time to tell everyone that the guy next to me is my boyfriend. His hand lingers on my leg. His hand keeps my leg from shaking. I eat, trying not to choke, waiting for that right moment. 

My parents have this idea that he's just a friend. This is my fault. I was going to introduce him as my boyfriend. I was going to come out and introduce my parents to my boyfriend in one sentence. I did not. He is seated next to me. From time to time he sneaks a hand beneath the table. He touches my leg. Sometimes, for a brief moment, his hand lands upon my penis. It's hard. It has been hard since I sat down. I was able to keep it down up until that point. The rolls are being passed. The turkey sits waiting to be carved. I sit waiting to have the courage to come out.

It's Thanksgiving morning. I have decided that today will be the day. I will tell my parents about everything. Well, maybe not everything. I sit in my room. In my mind I rehearse what I will say and how they might react. I am nervous. I already told him. I know that I still have not named him here. What does that mean? I pace uncertain. I want to get it all over. 

I'm happy. I think. We've been together for almost a year. I wonder if this is real. I wonder why it tooI k so long to find him. I sit on the edge of my bed. He's asleep. I watch him. His chest rises and falls. His mouth is slightly open. He's dreaming. I'm dreaming. I imagine reaching over. Tracing his form with my finger. My lips press against his skin. I take in his scent. His nipples between my teeth. I nibble. Not too hard.  His hips. My tongue moves with his skin. I want to taste all of him. I don't want to rush.  I watch him sleeping. He's hard. In my mind I'm next to him. My mouth just below his belly button. My lips against his skin.  I stop dreaming for a moment. I want to have this memory to keep forever. I will think back to this moment whenever we're not together.

We're on a date. We're watching a movie. We're holding hands. Every so often I turn and watch him. I wonder if this will go on forever. I don't mean forever as in living forever, but us being together for the rest of our lives. Last night we were in bed. He climbed on top of me. I could feel him pressed against me.  The movie ends. We remain in our seats. The credits end. He stands. Our hands together. I stand. He doesn't want to let go as much as I don't want to let go. My fingers grip the sheets. He kisses my neck. My legs wrap around him. I never want to let him go. We walk out of the auditorium. I want to repeat what happened last night, every night, for the rest of our lives.

We have not been together for days. My parents are out for the night.  The first thing we do when I open the door is kiss. We kiss all the way to my bedroom. How is it that time apart makes you want one another that much more? I devoured him. I held him. We spooned. So much in one night. Then he left. My parents came home. I went to bed and dreamt of him.

Nothing. When I am not with him I am bored. I spend my time away from him thinking about him. Class is class. I do more homework. I count the hours until I see him again.

The mountains. Clean air. What could be better? Wifi that works. Don't get me wrong, I love the mountains, but having no wifi is less than ideal. My parents want to have a fun family time in the mountains. I want to stalk my boyfriend on Facebook. I know that sounds bad. I know you're judging me. You'd do the same if you were me. Miniature golf. It's like golf but smaller. There's also obstacles, which I love, but it's also boring like golf. I try to have fun but all I can think about is... You know what I'm thinking about.

My parents decided that we need a family holiday. I hate these. It's forced love. Not that I do not love my parents. I love them. I guess. I just do not want to be forced to have this family time. We're in the car heading down the freeway. We had the radio on but no one could agree on the genre of music. I like all sorts of music. My parents are the ones that can never agree. They have always been like this, they never agree about anything, but they have love. I want to tell them that I have love as well. I want to tell them that I am gay and that they do not have to worry about me so much. I brought a magazine to read but all I really want to do is stare out the window.

The days apart only make the nights together so much better. When I'm not with him I dream of him. I imagined having a boyfriend so often before having one but having one is different than what I imagined. We text all day. I see his Instagram posts. He is with me even when he's away from me.  A knock at the door. "Your mom told me you were in your room." "What did you tell them?" "We're working on a class project." He closes the door behind him. He stands in front of me. We're so close that we're touching. I can feel him. He's hard. I'm hard. I did not imagine this happening.

The rain continues outside. Inside I sit up in bed. I watch him. He dreams as I dream.  We've been together for a month. My parents are not home. They don't know. They don't want to know. It's all a game. They pretend. He comes over when they are not home. They've never met him. I want to change that. I want them to know. Telling strangers I'm gay is easy but telling my parents is almost impossible.  I have imagined the moment for years. I practiced introducing them to my boyfriend. I finally have a boyfriend. Now what?

We sit. We're on our second date. We're in a small coffee shop. Silence. Neither one of us wants to be the first to speak.  I think we're officially dating. Not that I am an expert. We're not fighting but we're not speaking. The awkward second date is worse than the first date, especially after you have sex on the first date. I want to ask how I was but that seems weird. Maybe I should make comment cards for sex.   His lips part. He wants to say something. I imagine his lips parting. I imagine his lips parting as her consumes me. I imagine him. He's in front of me yet I am dreaming of the him that I was with only a few days ago. I want to kiss him. I want to take him in my arms. I do not care that we are in public.

Alone. In my room. The night after. Replaying every second of our time together.  I watch my phone. I know it's too soon to expect a call from him. I count the minutes since I left his place.  My parents are not home. I'm in my room waiting. Waiting for the weekend to end. 

I wake up to his alarm. Yes, i am still in his bed. He's asleep next me. I can feel him next to me. I want to remain here all day. I lay there until he wakes up. He stretches, turns on his side, and kisses me. Kisses me once. Then he gets out of bed. I watch him as he goes into the bathroom. He showers. We sit and eat breakfast together. Eggs, toast, nothing fancy. Coffee. I'm not a coffee drinker but I find it difficult to say no to him. I walk home with a smile. I cannot help myself. I'm in love. I think I'm in love.

I've dreamt of this moment, but this moment is unlike my dreams. I am nervous. I want to slow down time. I want to enjoy every nano second. This is my first time being with another boy. I want to cherish every moment. I lay on his bed. I want to do something. I remain motionless. He's already removed my shirt. I think I feel cold because I am shaking but it might be because I'm nervous. I feel the warmth of his mouth against my skin. The tip of his tongue on the place just below my belly button. I'm harder than I've ever been.  This was not what I expected. It feels too rushed but it has so long been imagined that I do not want to stop. My mind debates the issue. Is this about finding love or is it about having sex for the first time?

I count the cars passing as I wait. It's during times like these that I wish I were one of those people that arrived late or even on time. I am one of the few people that insists upon arriving early wherever I go. I see him. I would recognize him anywhere. I have studied his profile for hours. I have imagined things. Now, he's here in person. Maybe I am somewhat nervous now that this date thing is real and not just another date on my calendar marked with a big circle. "Hello, you must be..." "Yes. I am he. I mean I'm your date." "Good. for a moment I thought I was here to meet that older man sitting at the bus stop over there." I wonder if he's telling jokes because he's nervous or he tells jokes all of the time. It was not in his profile. A pause in conversation. A conversation already so short and I wonder if it's over already. Is he disappointed after meeting me in person. I'm not. I mean he's funny and cute. I also caugh...

I sit upon the wall of rocks. The traffic passes on the road below. A song is stuck in  my head. It's a song from a commercial I've seen again and again. I wait trying to avoid glancing at my watch. He's not late. I'm early. I hate to wait. I hate to be late. I imagine the clouds as the things they represent. A teddy bear floats overhead. I had a teddy bear once when I was a child. I'm a teen now but sometimes I miss that bear. Whatever happened to Mr. Rufus I shall never know. I hate dating. Is this a date? I think it could be a date. I said so when I chatted with him. I hate meeting guys like that. Online. I like to meet in person. How do you meet anyone in person or in general? I have seen his photographs. He's very cute but sometimes photographs can be deceiving...