Justin's Life... March 1-12, 1996

Justin's Life... March 1-12, 1996

March 1, 1996

4:24AM Technically March 2, 1996

Mom mailed me the college records overnight and I spent all yesterday filling out applications, requesting ACT/SAT score reports, and writing essays.

At a little before midnight, I headed to Copy Cop to fax a USC Transcript Cover Form to my high school. I handed it to a guy I'd never seen before and he put it into the fax machine. While he was waiting, one of the guys I'd worked with during my three week Copy Cop stint started talking to me. He'd since been made supervisor and so when the new guy gave me the fax confirmation report, he responded, "Don't charge him." The new guy said okay and went on his way. I was impressed: I said thanks and we continued to talk for the next ten minutes or so before I walked back to my apartment.

Today, I got up early, went to BU to request a transcript be sent to USC, and then faxed the entire application at Mail Boxes Etc.. It was $13.00 for eight pages, half of what Copy Cop would have charged.

In other news: on the red head front, I got a call today from Ladd. We talked for a few minutes, but I think he's figured out that I don't think anything will happen between us. He's one of the reddest red heads to ever e-mail me (and is pretty darn cute with his goatee and bad boy look ), but when he called a few weeks ago, his voice was just a little too "playful." I mean, he even quoted from Steel Magnolias and Designing Women.

Daniel, another red head and a Disneyland employee, also called today. In my mail on Monday, I found three pictures of him, and we'd e-mailed back and forth to exchange phone numbers. I didn't get a chance to talk to him in person, but when I listened to voice mail, I first thought he was Steve, the guy I was totally ga ga over this past spring. A day at the Magic Kingdom will definitely be in order later this month.

March 3, 1996


Well, a trip to Disneyland may be in order later this month, but I'm pretty sure a red headed escort won't be part of the picture.

Daniel called about hour ago and I don't think I've ever had a worse first talk with someone. His voice didn't quite sound like the one left on voice mail, nor did it match the body of the brawny man I saw in his pictures. I said as much within the first couple of minutes and the conversation just kept going down from there.

Daniel said that he wasn't offended at my comments and I explained that I wasn't trying to offend, that I was just saying what I thought. And admittedly, maybe I shouldn't have started out the conversation that way, but it was the thought going through my head.

So, anyway, he said he wasn't offended and our conversation continued. I kept trying to get a feel for what kind of person he was, but I couldn't. I mean, with Werner and Greg, talking to them on the phone was easy. I never searched for something to say; we just talked and laughed back and forth. With Ladd, we talked on the phone and although I could tell that I wasn't attracted to him, it wasn't painful. He was there, we were talking, no big deal. But with Daniel, it was like we were seeing who could jab the hardest. Suffice it to say that by the end of the conversation, it had gotten down to him saying that from the pictures online, he thought Rob was "ugly" and to me firing back with how Larry thought a couple of the pictures he sent were "untouchable."

March 5, 1996


I was just on the phone with Mom when she asked me, "Are you going out tonight?"

"With whom?" I responded.

"Well, last night you went to Burger King." and pathetically enough, that's what "going out" has come to mean in my life. I had to laugh, though, when Mom said it... like a 10 minute trip to Burger King for a Whopper was going out.

So, I think I may just go to a movie by myself tonight.


I went to see the 7:30PM showing of Before And After at Copley. I wasn't as lonely as I'd anticipated, but I did miss having someone to talk about the movie with afterwards.

March 6, 1996


Today I've been holding at a point of near tears, of near screaming, of near suicidal thoughts. Every day I wake up to no one. I recognize no faces. I touch no one. The two closest people in my life are literally thousands of miles away. I talk to Larry and Mom and that's it. Phone conversations and e-mail are my extent of human interaction.

I wake up at 4PM because it doesn't even matter if I wake up at all. But even when I did wake up early to go to work at Copy Cop, what was the point. I talked to the other workers, but our bonds were no deeper than disliking our jobs. None of them were gay. None of them were people I could see outside of work. I wasn't me, I was just one of the robots inhabiting the same place, saying what I thought the others wanted to hear and they were doing the same.

I don't know what I'm doing this fall. I have trouble seeing myself at BU for another year. Larry says that if I don't go to college, I'll end up at home in Kentucky and back at the video store. So be it. At least I'd see Mom, Dad, my brother, and my cats every day. At least I'd see some friends from high school. Sure, they wouldn't be anybody close, but it would beat the hell out of this life now. I'm sick of living in a miniscule apartment, seeing no one, and having to limit the people I might see to those that live in a five block radius. Without a car, friends are limited to those that can walk home or those that can spend the night. If Rob had lived any farther away than he did when I first moved back to Boston, I would have seen him as much as I see Helen or Erika at BU; once a month. Less than a mile away, but the distance, T-schedule, and cab fares keep me from seeing them more often. If this were Kentucky or anywhere where a car could be had, I'd be able to see people a mile away without thinking twice.

I don't know how much longer I can take this. I'm now beyond the point near crying: Tears are coming down and I can barely see to type. It still amazes me that I can be this lonely in a city this large.

March 7, 1996


I woke up to find over 20 letters from guys telling me to cheer up... and I have. To think that that many guys would write long, detailed letters because they were concerned about me, put me in a better space. I got a couple letters from guys giving me their phone numbers so I could call and talk, and a couple more from Boston area guys who said we could get together if I wanted. So far, I've replied to a letter from Andy, a reader who I met this past November to see Jeffrey with. He asked if I'd like to go to Manray and after thinking about it, I agreed. But now I think I'd rather go see a movie or something. I haven't heard back from him, but I will do something with someone tonight.


I still haven't heard from Andy.


Still no word. I did get e-mail from a guy asking if I'd want to meet him tonight. I e-mailed Andy a few minutes ago and told him "Hey dude. It's a little after 8PM, and I haven't heard from you. There's another guy who'd really like to meet me tonight and not that I'd rather meet him than you, but I'd rather meet him than sit here home alone. If I don't hear from you by 9PM, I'll probably meet him...".


Time's drawing near and I still haven't heard anything from Andy. I wonder what the heck happened to him.


I just spent the last hour and so on the phone with Curt. We're going to meet at Tower Records in about thrity minutes. --He's not red headed.

March 8, 1996


Curt called from his cellular phone to say that he was near Tower and I headed out. I walked inside to first assume another patron was him, but noticed that he wasn't wearing the Timberlane cap that Curt said he would be wearing. --Curt said he was a 5'9" thirty-six year old with dirty blonde hair.-- I then saw Curt and smiled. He smiled back and we shook hands.

After talking for a bit, I suggested we go to J.P. Licks and we did. There, we each had some ice cream and Curt told me more about himself. I'd known from his description that his hair was thinning, but during the conversation, he removed his cap for a second, and he had more than I expected.

At a little before midnight, J.P. Licks was getting ready to close, so I suggested we walk through the Pru and Copley to talk some more. We walked the length of the mall and back before agreeing to go to the nearby pizza place. We ordered a small pepperoni pizza and talked for the next two hours. Curt had only recently come to terms with himself and so during the conversation, he asked me the standard gay questions, like "How did you know?". I told him what I could and sorta got a kick out of being his "gay mentor."

At somewhere around 2AM (I think), the pizza place was getting ready to close, so I asked Curt if he had any suggestions as to what to do now. He'd mentioned on the phone that he didn't have a problem staying in and order pizza, so I didn't think he was apprehensive about going back to my apartment, but I didn't know if I wanted to take him back to my apartment. From what he'd told me about his hobbies and coaching high school track, I knew he was just a big kid at heart. He definitely didn't seem like the type of guy that would hurt me and considering that I was much larger than him, I decided it would be okay.

March 9, 1996


So we headed back to my apartment and eventually watched The River Wild. During the movie, I moved my foot over to touch his, but his leg was out of reach. A little later, he moved his foot on top of mine and we played footsie. As the movie continued, we kept getting closer. Soon, my left arm was over top of him and my side was next to his. I then noticed the hair on his arm as it was poking out of his cuff. I commented on how much there was and he pulled up the arm of his shirt to show me. His arms were hairy... like an inch long hairy. I gushed about his arms for a bit, asked him if he resentted being so hairy below but having little hair on the top of his head, --He said yes.-- and then we continued to watch the movie.

We kept getting closer until finally my arms were around him and I was holding him like a big protector, with one arm around his chest and the other coming down from his shoulder. He wasn't even watching the TV anymore, but just enjoying me holding him.

But I didn't want him to miss the movie, so I re-directed his attention there and it finished before we cuddled some more.

And then it all gets blurry... No, I'm kidding. So the movie was over and I stuck Clueless in the VCR to create background noise. I commented again on how koool his arms were and he remarked, "so they'll merit a couple of smiley faces." I laughed and said yes.

After a while of cuddling, we each took our shirts off and hugged some more. I could see Curt's chest was also furry, so I commented on that and he said his legs were as furry as his arms, then pulled up his jeans to show me his calves. I was in awe.

As we were on my bed, I could see that Curt was looking at my lips and was wondering about kissing them. A couple of times, I just moved my face out of the way so that it wasn't a possibility, but then I called him on it. He said that he was indeed wondering and I told him that I thought he should wait for someone special to be his first kiss. He said okay, but a few minutes later, his face was in mine and he said, "what the hell." and kissed me. He couldn't kiss worth a darn. At first I thought he was going to swallow me and then I thought he was going to knock one of my teeth out with his tongue. Seriously, though, he was a really horrible kisser, so I gave him a couple of lessons, told him to slow down, to be softer.

We kissed for a while and then cuddled. I kept playing with the waistline of the back of Curt's boxers, as a sort of flirtacious, do I dare enter. Eventually, my hand went inside and even Curt's butt is furry. --Don't get me wrong. He's not like some ape. His back's not hairy, nor are his sides or his shoulders: It's just that in the places most guys have some fur, he has a lot.

At a little after 8AM, I was getting pretty darn tired, so I asked Curt when he needed to head into work. He said the place opened at 10AM, but he could go in whenever. I was ready for him to leave so I could go to bed, but I didn't say anything. I mean, by 8AM, we'd been in a near sleep for a few hours, but not having known each other long enough to fall completely asleep around the other, we stayed in our jeans and on guard, basically awake with our eyes closed. Finally, at a little after noon, I said that I had to pee, figuring when I got up, he'd follow, and he did. He put his shirts back on and I walked him back to his car near Tower. He drove me back to my apartment, and after I called Larry to tell him I was still alive, I fell asleep.

Even though Curt stayed a little longer than I'd have preferred, I had a really nice time. It was so koool just to be held by him and to hold him. He's still ga-ga over someone else, a red head believe it or not, and I'm still looking for mine, so I doubt anything serious will become between us, but we both filled a need of the other's. I showed him for the first time that he can be gay and feel secure, that he can have someone hold him, someone that's concerned about him and not just interested in getting off, and he reminded me of the same.

March 10, 1996

12:46AM Technically March 11, 1996

When I woke at 8PM, I found a few letters from Curt. One said he had a nice time, another said he wouldn't mind seeing me again and another dated at 5:35PM said he was still at work. I couldn't imagine him being anything but dead on his feet, so I wrote to say that I hoped he'd gone home since he'd last written and to ask him if he wanted to catch a movie and/or dinner Saturday.

When I logged back on to send the letter, another from Curt downloaded to say, "Good morning sleepy head". Apparently, he'd been monitoring my account to see when I downloaded mail.

Once Curt got my "Are you still at work?" letter, the following e-mail ensued in almost real-time:

Yes I am still here, what are you doing for dinner tonight?

I was just thinking of heading to Burger King. How in the world are you keeping going? Don't you need some sleep? (Not that I'd mind seeing ya. I just don't want you to conk(sp) out.) :-)

So what if I conk out, I would never fall a sleep on you. I am hungry. Call me or e-mail me.

Well, you definitely don't seem to be suffering from Greg-itis. Koool.

What is Greg-itis????

As in Greg, the red head... never having any time to see me and not paying me hardly any attention. *smile*

After that last e-mail, I called Curt and he said he'd meet me here at my apartment. At a little before 11PM, he arrived and we headed to the same pizza place as the night before. Twenty minutes after that, we returned with a large pepperoni and ate it on the floor.

From there, we sampled my CD collection then started Wes Craven's New Nightmare. As with The River Wild, by the end of the movie, less attention was being paid on it than on the immediate surroundings. Curt and I were holding each other and once again our shirts came off. A while later, my hands went exploring and down into the front of his boxers. --The night before, he'd guided my hand there, but I'd buckled my knuckles so that my hand wouldn't fit past his waistline.-- As my hands were inside the front of his boxers, I was careful not to actually touch anything, but to only flirt around the area.

Pretty soon, Curt's hands were in my boxers and his hand brushed up against the side of me. I took that and his behavior the day before as his signal that it was okay for me to touch him, so I did. Before long, things were getting really hot and heavy. I thought it would be just a few minutes before someone was ready to go, so to speak, so I told Curt that we should take a break.

We paused for a few minutes of just laying in the bed, but Curt's hands had a tendency to keep going back in my boxers. Soon, I asked, "So when were you thinking you'd leave?" Truth is, I wasn't sure where things were headed and I didn't want bodily fluids to come into play. I knew that I'd have A) felt extremely uncomfortable, B) wanted to take a shower, and C) wanted Curt to leave... and you can't really ask someone to leave after that and at 5AM.

I explained myself and we agreed to call it quits for the night. I went to the kitchen and before I returned, I put another pair of boxers on... to keep wandering hands out.

When I got back into the bedroom, Curt was in his boxers and a T-shirt curled up. I hugged myself next to him and we moved around several times trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. During this time, Curt's hands started wandering, and so I said, "I can't sleep if I think your hands are going to be in my boxers." He said he'd keep his hands out and shortly thereafter, we fell asleep. (I knew Curt was just trying to express the many years he'd repressed himself, --He'd found a new toy and didn't want to let go.-- but I also knew Curt well enough to know that if he said he wouldn't put his hands back in my boxers, he wouldn't.)

The next morning, we woke around noon and once again began to hug. It was really nice to be next to him, so after thinking for a while, I decided that it would bring us closer if I trusted him enough to be naked around him. I said something about how since I was awake, I could take off the second pair of boxers, --I'd told Curt about them when I said that he needed to keep his hands from wandering.-- and when Curt thought I was taking off the outer pair, I took off them both.

A few seconds later, I'd told Curt what I'd done and he reached down to check. When he felt that I truly wasn't wearing anything, he took his boxers off as well and for the next few hours, we layed next to each other hugging and caressing.

At a little before 5PM, I'd once again put the halt on the caressing in order to avoid the guilty feelings associated with bodily fluids. I told Curt that I needed to get some things done and he asked if we were still on for dinner and a movie. I was pretty much dumbfounded. This guy couldn't get enough of me.

So I said yes, found that Homeward Bound 2 was playing at 9 o'clock, and agreed to meet back with Curt at my apartment at 7PM so we could eat a Chili's in Copley before the movie.

I typed the previous diary entry and at around 7:30PM, Curt arrived and we went to the Cheri parking garage and purchased two tickets for The Birdcage. --I knew it would take at least an hour to eat and I didn't want to be rushed. Not to mention that Curt had suggested The Birdcage as a possible movie choice when we were checking out the titles before.

Once the tickets were purchased, we walked to Copley and ate dinner at Chili's. Once that was over, we walked around Copley and the Pru. It just so happened that a high school track convention was occuring in one of the hotels and Curt saw another coach he knew. He left me to walk inside one of the doors, then brought his friend back out to introduce me as his friend. (Curt later apologized for introducing me as just a friend, but I told him that he was doing great. He did introduce me and handled the situation better than I could have expected. -- For comparison sake, a similar situation came into play one night when I was out with Greg. He talked for about ten minutes before saying "This is Justin." and introducing me. He continued to talk and never brought me into the conversation. Add to that, I had to completely not write about the incident and how I felt because of the R-A-R-E chance that the other guy would somehow read the diary and put two and two together.)

So anyway, Curt talked to this fellow coach for a bit, then we headed back into the Pru to kill a little more time. Once we'd gotten a little past the middle of the mall, we passed a red headed guy walking the in opposite direction. I said it was time to turn around and Curt laughed at how obvious I was.

Before we could get to Cheri, Curt ran into some high school girls that knew him. One asked "Is he running?" and Curt said no. I just sorta hung in the background for the less than a minute that they talked. I was in a sort of awe at how the girl asked, "Is he running?" without ever mentioning a name and both she and Curt knew exactly who was being referred to. I got a major warm fuzzy feeling and remembered how Chris and I had that similar bond. Curt is that synonymous with his version of my Chris.

From there, we headed to the Cheri and got in a major line for the movie. As the doors opened, we quickly piled into the theatre and watched a truly funny movie.

About half way through, I reached down and squeezed Curt's leg. He smiled and in turn, reached down and held my hand for a bit. For a guy that wasn't even out to himself a month ago, he's making great progress.

Anyway, after the movie was over, we went back into the parking garage and once we got into the car, I leaned over to give Curt a kiss. The parking lot was nearly completely empty but he looked around before leaning back over to kiss me. I smiled at his nervousness.

Curt then dropped me off at my apartment. I gave him a few hugs and a couple of kisses and he headed home. Before I went to bed, though, Curt mailed to ask if I'd like him to drive me to the airport... I could definitely get used to this attention.

March 12, 1996

12:21PM Above Lake Ontario

This morning I woke with Curt next to me. He'd arrived around 9PM last night to spend a few more hours with me before taking me to the airport this morning. --Incidentally, last night I once again discussed how I was waiting for my red headed knight. Curt said he understood and I explained that I thought Rob and Adam understood, but they didn't. Who knows? I think he does understand, but all I can do is make my intentions as clear as possible.

So anyway, I finished packing and each of us took a shower before Curt went to pick up his car from the garage. When he returned, we loaded my suitcases and hurriedly drove to the airport. (My flight was scheduled for 11:15AM and we'd ignored the alarm clock, so it was 10:20AM before we left my apartment.)

Once Curt had parked in the American Airlines garage, I leaned over to give him what I thought would be a final kiss, but when we were in the elevator, he gave me another. (Speaking of which, afterwards, each of us, almost subconsciously, looked for a security camera. ) We checked my baggage at the loading station, said good-bye, and I walked to the gate and straight onto the plane.

And speaking of the plane, this flight is pretty sparsely filled. I have the entire row to myself. Quite a change from the flight back from Pennsylvania.


The food cart is nearing and all I can think is "If they offer three selections, what happens to the leftovers?"


Well, I ate my Southwestern Chicken, but before I could finish, I had to get out the video camera and shoot a couple of seconds of the red head about three rows up (like he's going somewhere ) I coyily acted as though I were videoing the view from the window, then quickly panned to the opposite side of the cabin to video the back side of his head. --Yes, I admit it freely: I am obsessed.-- I was so nervous that I'd be caught that the camera was almost shaking. From what I could tell, physically, he's about all I could want; stocky, bright red hair, freckled skin. Now if I could only figure out a way to talk to him.


Barely getting any sleep last night, I was able to take a short nap. Now, we're over what looks like barren frontierland, the kind of place you'd see in a Western. I've never seen anything like it.


The red head is scratching his head and so I can see his arm... covered with orange hair and freckles. I NEED ONE.

Yesterday, I got e-mail from a 24 Hours in Cyberspace writer asking for permission to quote the diary and telling me that I'd probably get a lot of e-mail from the profile. While this exposure will be nice, I care less about it than about the possibility of my red headed knight being one of the new Koool page visitors.


Less than an hour to go and I'm about bored silly. If I didn't have passenger 29A to occupy my thoughts, I'd have already passed the "about" point.

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© 1996 Justin Clouse

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