School Reunion

I've got my 20 year school reunion invite. OMG! I even got a phone call, which, I guess, makes it important. I was in the shower, however, and missed the call. One of my best friends at school, David B and another guy Stephen S are organising the event. But, Stephen S called me. Why didn't David B call, was my first thought? Not that I've seen him since uni, in our twenties. Silly the things you think, hey?

Egads! Should I go?

For my 5 and 10 year reunions I was overseas both times. I was living in London at five years and I was spending six months in Italy and Greece for ten years. After that, I took it as a sign not to go to any other reunions. You know, the universe put me out of reach... removed me so I couldn't go. I haven't thought about them since, not really.

I don't know? My first thoughts about going could, perhaps, be construed as unkind. Well, not so deliberately unkind as just telling the truth.

You know, I spent 6 years with most of these guys and 8 years with quite a few of them. My boy’s school had the policy, at the time, of keeping us in the same class all the way through school and for some of us that meant we were in the same class our entire school life. We all got to know each other quite well, on camps. Parties. Turning 18. Uni. Engagements. Even if we haven't seen each other since, I'm sure a certain bond would be there.

So, when I tell them I am gay, I'm sure certain questions will be asked, which would bring me to Alex. I spent all my high school years with him.

Alex was the vice-school captain in Year Twelve, on the footy team, a sporty, smart, popular guy at school. I was popular too. Smart. School orchestra, school plays, musicals. He and I had an affair for the last two years of school. Private school boy lovers. Nobody knew. Hotel rooms on school excursions. Bush walking club sharing a tent on weekends away. Various places around the school. The bush walking storeroom. The public toilets at the Kew Municipal office. Alex was into it as much as me. We were daring. I'm surprised we never got caught.

After school, I went out with my girlfriend, Leah, and Alex got married. He went on to send his sons to our school, remaining active at the school because of them and popular. Everybody loved Alex.

Alex died a few years ago, my feelings about which I wrote about in this blog. Apparently, the school community was devastated. So young, blah, blah, blah. I never did find out what he died from, I would at least find that out at the reunion.

There will sure to be questions, you know, we'll all be finding out what we can of the ensuing years. I can hear them now.

So, are you married with kids?

Actually, I’m gay.

Really?

Yes.

Wow, I wouldn't have guessed that?

Would you feel more comfortable if I wore a dress?

Wow, have you always been gay?

I guess? You know, there’s that period of denial in the beginning.

But you had a girlfriend at school, that blond girl what was her name?

Yes, Leah. We went out for a number of years?

So, did you know at school?

You mean in the changing rooms with all you guys?

Embarrassed looks. Blushes. Um, er?

I think school was a part of the denial phase, you know.

So, did you do it with anyone from school?

Bingo!

Alex would die. Well, bad choice of words. He so wanted to remain the upstanding, straight, every mother’s dream son, golden-haired boy.

Even though he went on to get married, I still think that Alex was gay, just not able to come to terms with it. It was actually he who instigated our relationship. I don't know if I have romanticised it over time, but he was just like every gay boy I have ever met since. He was really keen, not just playing at it, if that makes sense. He wanted to as often as I did. He turned up with fellow student, Tom Clarke, and we had a threesome. He said he would. Did I want to? he asked me beforehand. I agreed thinking it was more talk than anything. Then he turned up with Tom. We were all nervous and not a lot happened. Oh, enough happened.

Is it fair for me to publicly out Alex when he can’t defend himself?

It’s probably true that I wouldn't out him if he was alive and was at the reunion himself.

It’s what all boys do, I hear you say. Actually, we were seventeen and eighteen when were having regular sex. We weren't kids, as such.

The problem being is that I want to do it. I guess it's not a nice think to do, but I still want to. I want to see the looks on their faces. I’m not sure why. It's kind of subversive. I think it is setting the record straight, speaking the truth. It’s allowing the real story to be told. You know, so much of the time gay encounters are clandestine, kept secret, not talked about. If every male admitted to their gay relationships/encounters the world would be a different place.