Justin's Life... August, 1996

Justin's Life... August, 1996

August 16, 1996

12:30PM Based on Notes Taken

I made it!... but more on that in a minute.

From Tuesday, July 30, 1996

Late Tuesday night Mom called to say that she'd just received a call from someone looking for me. She said his name was Sean but fumbled over his last name. I didn't know any Sean's... especially not any with a last name like that... and then it hit me. I'd been cleaning and noticed postcards which I'd saved from Sean, the red head in Utah who wrote me last year. It seemed too coincidental to be true, but Mom gave me his number and I called... to get no answer.

I checked my e-mail and found three letters from Sean in Utah. It was, indeed, the same guy who'd called. He wrote:

I was browsing through the internet and decided to read alittle about what you had done in your life lately...well, the truth is I have been thinking about you alot lately, and I've decided that my decision to write you off was a terrible one. It's been quite a while hasn't it? I'm not going to sit and compose a big apology however sorry I am, I'm not big on apologies, I like to hope that is suffices to say that I am just really sorry. I've missed your voice, and your pictures, and your letters...just everything.

I read that you are moving, or have already moved to L.A.? I am happy that you are alot closer to me, but you probably haven't even thought about that, have you? As a matter of fact though, I will more than likely be attending college in L.A. within the coming year for school. It was a big decision, but now that it is made, I think that life will go alot smoother for me.

There is just one more decision for me to make, what to do with the other part of me that I thought I could just forget about. I've decided that I will not be forgetting about it any more, and the sooner that I get to L.A. the sooner I will be more comfortable about it.

Well, I've already written more than I had planned. I miss you Justin...I really do. I have missed you for the passed year. I would like to be your friend again, I could use your help and advice.

Take care


I'm sorry if I am flooding your mail box with messages, but I haven't been able to stop thinking of you today. I just refreshed my memory of what you look like and I have those same intense feelings for you again...I just NEED to hear your voice....I wonder if you hate me now, or if you will ever be able to forgive me for being so insensitive? I am so worried about it that I get butterflies in my stomache....

I went back and read your diary back when I was writing and calling you so much....I can't believe I was such a fool to break it off. I was selfish, and immature. I have to tell you that I am not out yet...the key word being YET.....but I feel that it is getting easier for me to be alittle more open about it to select people. I am no longer a member of my church...by my own choice for the most part...I still believe in it...in most of the teachings that is....but I can't be a member and gay too...atleast that's what they tell me.....I wish you could get on your computer during your trip so you could reply to me, so you could maybe stop and say hello...so I could hug you and meet you in person, face to face...I miss you so much Justin, atleast I miss the idea of you. Tall dark and handsome, careing, generous..did I spell that right?..great voice, did I mention handsome?

I have to go now. Please forgive me.


I just wanted to leave you my phone number..just in case..

801-###-####...please call me if you want, or if you want to drop by on your way through to L.A.


Once I'd read those, I called Sean's number once again and he answered. I'd forgotten his accent and the way he said certain words, like "sorry." We flirted and flirted. He told me that he was shirtless standing on his deck and that he was only wearing shorts without any underwear. It was pretty intense and by the time I said good-bye over an hour later, he'd told me that he was in bed, aroused, without any clothes. --I did think it was a tad odd that he'd missed me so much since we hadn't even met, but I had fun flirting with him on the phone... and being a rather intense person myself, it didn't really bother me that much.

From Wednesday, July 31, 1996

Wednesday was another day of packing, packing and more packing. Of note, Sean called late and we talked about thirty minutes. It wasn't as intense as the night before, but it was still pretty darn fun.

From Thursday, August 1, 1996

I sent out the first shipment of packages via UPS. My apartment was nearly bare. Sean didn't call and overall it was a boring, lonely, isolated day.

From Friday, August 2, 1996

Friday night was to be my last in Boston and I hadn't seen Curt but once during the week I'd been home. He'd been busy with job interviews, work, and such, and I'd been busy preparing everything for the move, but I needed to say one final "good-bye" and give him my furniture. I couldn't ship the computer workstation, the dresser or the futon, so it became Curt's... and I was glad to give it to him. I'd somehow felt less than perfect in my relationship to Curt. I guess I'd become so used to guys treating me like crap when things didn't work out, his much nicer, more amicable acceptance of my leaving made me feel guilty.

Before Curt arrived, I went to Tower Records and picked him up a $25 gift certificate. I would have gone to Glad Day, the gay bookstore in Boston, and gotten him something there, but I knew he was coming over with Adam (a straight friend of his who he would be picking up from the airport, who didn't know Curt was gay, and who would be having dinner with us).

Curt and Adam arrived at around 9PM and I handed Curt the gift certificate. When we took the first load down to the car, he handed me a metal film reel which contained a T-shirt. I thought of it as just a present, but Adam mentioned something about how it was in a film container because I was going to Hollywood. Curt had put a lot of thought into what to get me.

When all the furniture was carried to Curt's Explorer, I asked if the two of them would like to have dinner on me. They said yes and the three of us began walking. When we'd passed Copley, Curt said something about going to the Hard Rock, but we'd already agreed on Bertucci's and I wanted to spend my last dinner with Curt in a quiet, more relaxed atmosphere.

As we walked into Bertucci's, we were greeted by an obviously gay host. I went up behind Curt and said, "Got a dead cat?" He started chuckling and Adam looked confused to which I explained that Boston was a very gay city --He said, "I've noticed."-- and that Curt and I'd taken that phrase about swinging a dead cat as our own... to mean that a gay guy was nearby.

And as soon as we sat down, the inuendos rampaged. Adam was closer to my age than Curt's, so I felt completely comfortable with him and as such, fired one comment after another about the large gay population of the restaurant, about the waiter's disposition, about him ordering cherries in his coke. It was pretty fun and I could tell that Curt was comfortable. He'd said earlier how Adam didn't know that he was gay, but that if he found out, it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Before dinner was over, I'd said everything I could possibly think of to indicate that Curt and I were gay... without actually saying it. Heck, as we walked away from the restuarant, Adam was talking about gay walks and I said that gay guys walk all different ways, like "that" when I pointed to Curt and like "that" when I pointed to me.

Our next stop was J.P. Licks; we each got a scoop then headed back to my apartment. There, we talked for a while longer, but it was getting late and they needed to head home. I hugged Curt one long, final hug then gave him a kiss on the cheek as I pulled away. Adam walked out the door and Curt turned around to give me one final quick kiss on the lips. He then walked out into the hallway and I shut the door.

I looked around my empty apartment and decided to hang out the window to yell good-bye as Curt and Adam passed through the alleyway. Either they took another route or they'd already walked through... and then it hit me. That was the last time I was going to see Curt. I started full-fledgedly crying. (and I'm even getting misty-eyed as I write this now two weeks later) When I realized he was gone for good, I missed him... and bad. I called his voice mail and left a tear filled message just so he'd know how much he meant to me, that I did love him and appreciate the few months we spent together. I then called Larry to occupy my thoughts, but before I could get any meaningful words out, I started crying. He asked why I was crying and I sobbed that I missed Curt: All he could say was that he thought it was sweet.

Before long, I pulled myself together and said good-bye to Larry. I called Curt's voice mail once again to tell him that I was ok, for him not to worry about me... and apparently my second message tripped the system to call Curt's pager. Before he'd gotten home, he called on the cell phone to say that he'd heard what I'd said. We talked a few minutes more then said good-bye.

August 25, 1996

9:21PM Based on Notes Taken

From Saturday, August 3, 1996

After spending the night half awake on a sleeping bag, I got up, packed the last of the things into one final box, then crammed my suitcases tight. When I'd looked around to make sure everything had been packed, I called a cab, packed the phone, then headed out the door.

As I got on the plane, I wasn't sad. In fact, except for Curt, there was nothing in Boston that I'd miss; the public transportation, the walking everywhere, the pure lack of a car. I mean, I was glad to have experienced Boston for two years, but when I was sitting on the plane, thinking about things, sadness was not an emotion I had.

When I got to the Cincinnati airport, Mom wasn't at the gate. She'd been there every time before, so we'd never discussed what to do if she wasn't. I walked around the terminal for a few minutes then decided to go to baggage claim. But on my way down the escalator, I saw her frantically rushing towards the terminal. She was running late and doing her best to be there for me. It was a really koool feeling to see her again and to remember how much she cares about me.

Normally, Mom and I would have driven back home to Kentucky, but she, Dad, and my brother were at a horse show (My dad trains horses for a living.). So, instead, she and I drove to Dayton to watch the show. I hadn't been to one in years, and had no desire to break that record. As a kid, I spent nearly every weekend awake until 2-3AM at a horse show. I never liked horses in the first place and having to stay awake for horses which I hated was... well, bad.

So anyway, Mom and I drove to Dayton for the horse show. After we'd been there for a while, I walked down to the ring with my brother's girlfriend. She and I began talking about my brother and someway or the other, we ended up talking about sex. She had her say on why my brother and she were having a rough time then when it came time to give my "two cents", I said, "You've seen my web page, right?" She nodded, then I said, "So you know I'm so inclined?" and she nodded again.

We talked for a few more minutes and she said that my brother knew that I'm gay (something that Mom, Dad, and I'd assumed for some time... but we'd never said the "g" word around him). She added that he loved me and all, but that he didn't like thinking about it much. I mean, I knew as much --as I've written about here--, but it was a nice feeling to actually have my assumptions confirmed.

Before the night was through, I'd been enlightened on several subjects. My younger brother and I had both passed into adulthood... and he before me.

From Sunday, August 4, 1996

Sunday morning, Mom and I woke and headed home in my car. During most of the two and a half hour drive, we talked about my life. By the time we got back, I'd confessed everything. I told my mom that I'd lost my virginity... to Larry... and that Lance, Larry, and I had had a relationship... that we'd all slept in the bed together... naked. She seemed remarkably unphased: It's still so weird to be treated like an adult.

From Monday, August 5, 1996

On Monday, I talked with my brother about his relationship with his girlfriend. It was awkward trying to have a serious conversation when most of our 19 years together were spent "Retard!"ing and "Faggot!"ing each other. Nonetheless, we had a semi-serious conversation where I told him that he needed to keep things "at home." It was hard for me to say that I cared and didn't want him to screw up his life, but I managed. In response, he told me how one of Dad's clients had slept with the barn help, a virtual "that's nothing; you should hear what so-and-so did." I talked a few more minutes and said what I could, but I doubt I changed anything.

From Tuesday, August 6, 1996

Tuesday afternoon, I worked at the video store and watched Powder. For the rest of the day, all I could think was how I need to make my life count. And what I realized more from Powder is that I long for someone that extraordinary in my life. Part of the reason I want a red head is that I want my soul mate to be as extraordinary and unique on the outside as he is within.

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© 1996 Justin Clouse

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