I Always Knew I Was Different

I knew I was gay very early in life. There weren’t words to describe it and I wasn’t really sure what the words meant in relation to me when I did hear them. But I did know I didn’t want to be different. Life is hard enough. So I hid. I lied to myself and denied that I was a sexual creature. Rather than make a choice to lie or sneak around, I simply went without. I found enough pleasure and release with my own hand to survive. So I went off to college a virgin and very closeted. While there I decided to grow and actually live my life. I had three sexual encounters my sophomore year: a sneaked blow job in the research section of the library, a quick, nameless fuck in the bathroom in the biology building, and a mutual hand job under the bleachers at a baseball game.
That summer I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue that nameless screwing around. I don’t know whether I waited too long to experiment or else I just wasn’t meant to go from guy to guy for a simple, mindless release. I didn’t even know any of the three guys’ names. Thank God I used condoms. So I decided to be honest with the world. I wasn’t going to sing out on the rooftops that I was gay, but if asked, I would tell the truth.
Junior year started with a new roommate. His name was Justin and he was a cutie. He had gingery hair but without the ruddy complexion of a redhead. There was just enough gold in his hair to keep him from being overly freckled and able to hold a tan in his skin. He was about six-two and I’d say close to 200 pounds....