The Nomadic Life

A Whole New World

TRIGGER: WARNING ADULT CONTENT

ALTERNATIVE LIFESTYLE

HOMOSEXUALITY REFRENCES

Chapter 15

I have spent the past twenty years trying to understand who I am. Some days, I feel like I’m getting closer to the truth, and on others, I wonder if I’ll ever know what it is to feel complete and happy. How can anyone truly know themselves when they have never taken the chance to explore all that life has to offer? In one prophetic thought I find the truth. Maybe that’s what I’ve been searching for all along. The chance to experience everything the world and life has to offer before I make such an important decision about the kind of person I’m meant and want to be.

Over time I have accepted a few truths about myself, yes. But to say I have a solid grasp on my identity…, I cannot. I know I’m a good person, one with a decent heart. I don’t want to hurt anyone, physically or emotionally. I never want to be that asshole who ruins someone else’s day with a careless comment or an inconsiderate action. But I must admit the temptation is there, especially when I find myself surrounded by idiots and bigots who wear their narrow-mindedness like a badge of honor. It is all I can do to suppress the destain I have for that kind of individual. Often, I must fight the urge to lash out verbally towards them.

I distance myself from others to protect myself from the outside world. However, I do not want to be alone, either. I am careful when it comes to choosing friends and tend to gravitate towards people older than I. Those who aren’t trying to prove something to anyone. The average Joes, who are not interested in and do not have time to, impress anyone. They exude a certain comfort in their simplicity and how they navigate this world. But even around them, I feel like I’m holding back that part of me that shame will not allow me to share. Am I really one of them? Or am I just pretending to fit in?

At Twenty years old I am still a virgin. It is not something I boast about, but neither is it a source of shame, only a quiet truth that lingers at the edges of my self-perception. In the past, when I dated a girl long enough, the opportunity for intimacy would eventually arise. But when it did, something in me faltered. My hands would turn clumsy, my breath would become uneven, and my body would betray me, soaking me in sweat and anxiety.

For as long as I can remember, girls always told me that I was a great kisser. It was nice and reassuring to hear those words, and for a moment, they were comforting. But kisses were safe, as long as they led to nothing more. Once things became physical, their comforting words did nothing to ease my tension. I would be overwhelmed by hesitation and uncertainty.

Fear gnawed at my very soul. I had no experience, no knowledge of what was expected of me beyond the vague, impersonal lessons I absorbed from movies, whispered conversations and inuendo. What if I wasn’t enough? What if I was no more than a huge disappointment? I would not be able to handle being laughed at and rumors spread about how awful I was in bed.

All the teenagers I grew up with had stumbled through this awkward stage years before, and somehow managed to live through the embarrassment, but I never had. Instead, my insecurity clung to me, keeping me at arm’s length from intimacy. More than once I wanted to cross that threshold, to silence the doubts in my head. But every time I stood at the edge, ready to take that step, I found myself frozen, trapped in fear and convincing myself that I was already too far gone.

I’d never kissed a man, but I imagined it would be the same, right? Well, sort of. There was something about the scent of a man that excited me, something primal and deep within that I couldn’t deny, even if I wasn’t sure what it meant.

His name was John. Over twenty years older than I, he would be my first in more ways than I ever could’ve expected. My first kiss, my first real experience, and the first of many bad choices I’d make as an adult. I never imagined someone like him would become a key part of this new chapter of my life. But life seems to always find a way to throw your once calm and safe life into complete chaos.

I met him at work. Flipping eggs and cooking breakfast for drunks at the Steak and Egg. He came in one evening at the start of my shift. This greasy spoon restaurant is very much like the others. I was visible to all customers as I cooked their hashbrowns and flipped their eggs. On the graveyard shift there were only two employees, the waitress and the cook. If by some miracle we got busy, I would help my coworker out and wait tables as well. That night we were busy, and he sat at the counter. There was something different about him. It was more than his impeccable wardrobe, and aqua Velva aftershave. It was his self-confidence and demeanor that caught my attention. He was polite, well-spoken with a smile that set you at ease and a full head of white hair that said, “I am wise, I am safe.” My first impression of him was that he looked like Phil Donahue, only more approachable. He would show up about once a month, never announced, but I was glad to see him. At times he would stay, drinking coffee and telling me about his life in Jackson. I listened intently, visualizing what it would be like for a small-town boy like me to live in such a large city.

He eventually stopped coming in but would call, asking me out for dinner. I truly liked him and was able to be myself around him. Our nights together followed a familiar pattern, dinner, quiet conversation, and then a fleeting moment of intimacy in his hotel room. I grew fond of him, though I never mistook it for love. Back then, I wasn’t even sure I understood what love was. And besides, he had never hidden the fact that he was married.

But I was drawn to him. He was refined, confident, and, above all, kind. He never rushed me, never made me feel small for my inexperience. With a patient, yet controlling hand I had not expected, he guided me through uncharted territory, helping me uncover a side of myself I had been too afraid to acknowledge, let alone explore.

For the first time, I began to accept facts about myself I had denied for so long. Things started making sense. Not just in the way I perceived myself or the desires I had repressed for so long, but also being able to come to grips with a new world of possibilities. At last, I met the man I kept hidden beneath the shame and guilt society had placed upon me. And with that understanding came something I hadn’t anticipated, a hunger for more, a craving for a new beginning and lust for life.

With a steady, gentle push and encouraging words he convinced me Jackson had more to offer young men like me who were just coming into their own. Without him, I may never have taken that step. Every time I had uprooted myself before, moving to a new town or city where I knew no one, “home” had always been within reach, just a few hours’ drive away. In case things fell apart, that knowledge was both my safety net and sanctuary.

But this time things are different. This time, leaving Tupelo will put me over four hours away from anyone I know. There will be no quick retreats, no easy way back. This is not just another move; it is a leap into the unknown and the riskiest decision of my life.

Moving to a large city like Jackson is frightening enough, but to do it and not know anyone other than a married man I know so little about, is something I would never have the kahunas to do alone. But his gentle nature allows me to believe he will never do anything to hurt me. He even makes certain I have a place to live. He explains he has a friend willing to rent me a room, also giving us a place for noontime play sessions. I am smart enough to know dinners and nights out will no longer be feasible. From now on he will be spending those times with his wife and family.

Not an easy decision, even aware of all the facts, I accept the offer, taking the first step towards a new life. I cannot be certain how this will all play out and that alone is scary as hell. Will this be my last move? Have I finally found a place to permanently call home? Knowing me, probably not.

And yet, maybe it is. Maybe this is inevitable. Perhaps fate is guiding me to further discover who I am beyond the comforts and safety of what is familiar. So, with apprehension and caution I spread my wings and take flight, accepting the risk, danger and possible rewards awaiting me.

The drive to Jackson is both exciting and terrifying. My mind reels as I think about the city, how big it is, how different it will be. I was there once, a distant memory from a high school field trip to the state fair. Back then, I was more interested in the rides than the city itself. But now, I imagine it differently. This time it is not about focusing on the sights and sounds of the midway or flashing lights and attractions. No, this time it is quite different, I am going there to learn, to live and to explore a whole new world.

I ask myself what the cost of admission might be this time?  Do I have enough saved up emotionally to afford what the city charges to survive. Am I ready to pay the cost it takes to board that roller coaster and endure the many twists and turns it takes. I have heard many people speak of this dangerous and frightening ride called life in the big city. Am I prepared to throw my hands in the air and enjoy all the thrills and chills awaiting me, or am I going to chicken out at the last minute? The choice was not a difficult one.

The gypsy in me prevails, this time with a different heart, one that still does not quite know itself, but is brave enough to take the chance.

When I look back now, I wonder, "If I could, would I change any of the life altering mistakes I made?" The truth is, I can’t. Every moment, every mistake, each one a lesson which led me to this point. And to change any part of it would mean altering who I am now, a sacrifice I will never be willing to make. For if I were to change even one decision, you would not be reading this story or any of the ones that have come before. For good or bad, I am me, now and always. Regret is for the young, peace and acceptance is what we earn for living a long and interesting life.