Looking For A Boy Like Me Pt 1 (True Story)

I had been with girls but I couldn’t stop looking at boys, and in my heart of hearts, I had that vague loneliness a gay boy feels growing up. I wanted to find another boy like me, a boy I could love.
* * * * *
My mom died giving birth to my little brother. I don’t even remember her, but it affected me. It affected me, if for no other reason than it left my dad as my only parent. I didn’t like him.
It wasn’t a love-hate thing. At least I don’t think so. But he favored Jason, my little brother. Add to that the fact that my dad is a seriously type A personality, and I’m a seriously type Z, and it was easiest for me to just avoid him all I could.
Dad made some attempts to be fair. Like when we moved back to the States and into a big house while Jason and I were still in grade school. When Dad put in a twenty-five meter lap pool because Jason had developed an interest in swimming, he also added a little gym for me in two bays of the garage because I had an interest in gymnastics.
If you hadn’t guessed, we had money.
Unfortunately, I outgrew gymnastics — not because I lost interest, but because I literally outgrew it. I was six feet tall when I was fourteen.
I had always been shy, and being tall didn’t help. My aunt was sure that my shyness was because of losing Mom. But I was also shy because I was gay.
I don’t know if it had anything to do with it, but while we were overseas, Dad worked for almost two years on a mining project for my grandfather in the Ukraine. The site was remote and the young farm girl...