Get Real

"The strange thing is, after I, done that to you ... all I could think of doing was holding you to make it all right, and I knew, I really knew, that I've never loved anyone so much." -- John Dixon

Continuing the series concerning The Things I Have Learned from the Boys I Have Kissed, I give you the story of Adam: The Mormon from Utah. This boy happened to educate me on the power of forgetting yourself and your ideals for the sake of adventure. This is what established my mentality of moving the story forward. That mentality is important, because it has managed to make my life rather entertaining from time to time, and it is one of the few universal mandates that I observe on a daily basis.


For the sake of exposition and establishment of setting, this story takes place in June of 2005, in the Arizona High Desert, specifically, a simple place called Arcosanti where I spent several years following high school. As I'm sure you can imagine, it's hot outside. On this particular night, I was a quiet, and I mean that, quiet 20 year-old man. At that point, I had only ever kissed three people, and one of them was a girl. I had only had sex with three people, and one of them was unwillingly. I was new to the world, not even 21, which is when I would blossom into the person I genuinely enjoyed being. I was a weekend warrior, my friends and I would have adventures in the shape of parties every weekend and during the summertime, the party-place was the Arbor. It was a nicely enclosed location with a great view of the river, and a sense of inclusion to it. My best friend at the time would be Talullah-Jewel, who taught me to love red wine, and would share drinks with me when we were dancing under the stars. This was one of those parties. 

He's a six foot tall, sinewy 23 year old man of suntanned complexion, with a widow's peaked head of stubbly dark brown hair, buzzed military style, covered in a red and white trucker's cap. His clean-shaven face is accentuated by a pair of wide eyes that return your gaze like a child, unsure, but knowing that anything he does will make you smile. Hair-lipped smiles are heaven sent. In his t-shirt and jeans, he is the god of simplicity. His name is Adam and he wore a retainer. He had been visiting Arcosanti for months, spending his weekend sleeping in his truck in the parking lot, and having adventures with us, always bringing plenty of drugs and alcohol to make sure that our adventures were that much more fantastic. He and I had become good friends, not the greatest, but good enough that he and I had adventures.and went hiking through the desert to find hiding places and hunt javelina. 


On this night, I had a bottle of red-wine that I couldn't quite open. Jewel and I had made our way to the party, hoping that somebody else would have the corkscrew. Sadly, we were mistaken. So, I decided to flirt my way into fixing this problem. Approaching Adam, I jestingly said that I would give him head if he opened it for me. It was a joke. Like I said, he and I had become great friends, and this is how I am with my friends. Lewd sexual commentary and sharp wit are our currency. So, I gave him an offer for head, and he gave me an open bottle of wine. Jewel and I drank it, and he said he'd, "think about it."


It wasn't long before he leaned in to my ear and said, "Sure." Taking me seriously, we went for a walk through the fields of Arcosanti. Just outside of camp, there is a mile-long dirt road that leads to the end of the second field. We followed it back and he said he didn't really want head, he just wanted to talk. So we did. He put his fingers around my hand, and we shared kisses as he explained that he'd only wanted to kiss one guy before. Ironically, that one time had been at a Jewel concert. He had spent the entire concert staring at a boy in front of him in the audience. He didn't feel like that again, until he met me. 


We spent the nect two hours walking back and forth, holding hands, him repeating over and over that he wasn't gay. Then, he kissed me. Up until this point I had always been with rather wimpy guys. This man had muscle though. He was my elder. He was stronger than me. His arms when they wrapped around me were heavenly. We spent about 45 minutes just kissing. He made allusions to sharing my heartbeat between our chests, and passing the breath of life between our lips. 


I didn't want to be this boy again, but it moved my story onward. I had been this boy once before, and didn't want to be that boy for anybody else ever again. It happens rather frequently. I am often the tester. I'm the toy to play with to see if you like it. I have repeatedly played the part of the non-threatening gay man who will kiss and play with straight boys. On this night in particular, I started a two month affair with this man. By the end of the night, my best friend swore that he loved me, and we were comfortably happy.


Eventually, he left, and went back to Utah, and his wife. He tried to keep in touch, and even came back to Arizona once to see me, but I was in Phoenix, not Arcosanti at that point. I forgot about him, but I learned to keep the momentum, and try to live by that mentality regardless of the consequences. Which ends yet another round of the Things I Have Learned from the Boys I Have Kissed. For a slightly longer recounting of this tale, check [these two posts] on LiveJournal.