During high school I tried, with limited success, to date girls. I was in denial, my sexuality locked in a closet so small and dark that I thought I was "safe". Dating girls was expected of me, of course, given my upbringing and social environment. Even in the early 80's, being gay in school was a real problem, being different in any way was a challenge. I suppose that's the same, today, but overall there is a much more permissible environment for expressing one's sexuality. My children probably won't be bothered one bit if they learn I am gay. Process that for a moment.....

So, I dated, and eventually I lost my virginity at 17 to a girl I thought I loved. I graduated not much later and, lacking other viable options, enlisted in the Army.

The Army was good for me, lots of discipline, hardship, I matured. I was still an insufferable little bitch when I let my guard down but I learned in the Army to further suppress my true nature. I almost convinced myself that I was "normal", except for the fact I wasn't getting laid. A thing happened that almost caused me to let my guard down, though. I was assigned as the driver for a brigade commander, an O-6, full bird Colonel. It's a pretty choice assignment for an E-3, got me my promotion to E-4 and an Army Commendation Medal. My roomie did something else, I can't remember now, but our schedules meant that we rarely saw each other. I don't know why but one day he left his wardrobe open so I decided to peek inside it. It was a mess but I noticed some magazines stashed on the upper shelf. Thinking they were Penthouse or something, I grabbed one to look at.

They were all gay "art" magazines, just naked men posing, some erect, no sex, nothing overtly sexual beyond erections. I stroked to those magazines for almost a week, they revealed a whole new world I didn't know existed. I knew it was "wrong" and I'd get in trouble if anyone found out I was aroused by that sort of thing but I was, incredibly so, and I couldn't keep myself from jerking to them every single day. Well, like I said, I our schedules were really different and I didn't see him at all for that entire week. I was resolved to tell him what I'd found, what I'd been doing, thinking that maybe he'd....I don't know. I wanted to be a part of what I was seeing in the the magazines and I guess I thought he'd help me figure it out.

Turns out, he went AWOL, missing for three days. Our platoon sergeant, a good guy I was on good terms with, did some sleuthing and found him at some house in a Tacoma suburb. Sarge told me there was a "gay fucking orgy going on, just naked dudes all over fucking". My roomie was one of them. Remember "don't ask, don't tell"? He was court martialed and dishonorably discharged. His possessions were cleared out before I had a chance to snag the magazines. I was so scared about what happened to him, I probably wouldn't have. I went back into my closet and stuffed my new-found feelings and emotions deeper down than ever before.

My second, and last, duty assignment was in Germany. It's only mentionable because we lived in WWII-era barracks with one large shower room for everyone, maybe 9 nozzles total? There was a separate waiting area, where consensus had everyone keeping towels around their waists but once you were in the shower, it was swinging dicks, everywhere. It's probably a good thing I am near-sighted because all those naked men were just blurs to me. I knew nothing of the vibrant gay scene in many German cities and only learned about gay movie theaters shortly before my term of enlistment was up. I was honorably discharged in 1987 after a very long streak of missed opportunities and continued confusion and shame.

After a couple of years of going to college while living with my parents, I accepted a job offer where I had been working as a temp, moved into my own apartment, and continued my life of celibacy (is it celibate if you jerk off every day?). It wasn't until three or four years later, at about age 25, I stretched my legs, so to speak.