He Was Pretty, and Witty and...Gay

J.G. [sigh]. I had a crush on him the first moment I saw him. And when he would always make it a point to come talk to me, I was down right smitten. (Something new!)

I didn't run into him too much, because I hung out at one university, mainly with the soccer players, and he played soccer at a different university. But he would stop by on occasion, because he knew the soccer players at the university where I hung out, and he had a couple of friends who attended this college.

J.G. was not just cute with a soccer player's butt (still not quite as cute as James's, though), but he was smart, liberal, well-dressed, and could make me both laugh and quiver. How did I not see it coming?

Anyway, I was the envy of all of my friends when I was the one he would talk to, and one "friend" in particular, whose goal in life was to date a soccer player, couldn't see straight when he asked me for my number. (Same girl, who was a finance major at this university, had to have me explain the movie Wall Street to her. OY!)

He called me the next day or the day after, and we talked quite awhile and he asked me to go to a Blues game and dinner with him. Considering I was 19 at the time, this was a "fancy" first date! I could barely contain my excitement.

So, imagine my dismay when the day of our date, I wake up vomiting. I could not believe my bad luck! I could tell it took him quite a bit of courage to get up the nerve to ask me, and considering he kept asking me, "Are you sure you want to go to a Blues game? Is that alright?" I didn't want him to think that I wasn't interested, so I ate some soda crackers, had hot tea with honey, used plenty of concealer and bronzer and went on the date.

He thought I was one of "those" girls who doesn't eat on a date. So wrong, but what are you going to do? But the thrilling part came when he put on his glasses...I love a guy in glasses! Especially the "school boy" glasses of the 80s and early 90s. I got a goofy grin, and he said, "I have to wear them to see the game."

"No, you don't get it. I looooove guys in glasses!"

He gave me cockeyed smile, a quick hug and held my hand as we walked to the arena.

After that, I was constantly going to his soccer games, going to movies, and basically was just blissfully happy with him. The state of euphoria I was in seemed perpetual, and I was sure we were meant to be together.

My family thought he was great. We were often at one another's house, and everything was comfortable and normal. And after a few months, he told me he loved me.

In fact, he was out without me, one rare occasion, and the "friend" who was so envious that I was dating him to begin with ran into him. Asking smuggly, thinking we must have broken up since he was out without me, how I was, he quickly answer, "I just love Miss Bethie to death." Cha-ching!

We spent all of spring together, including Easter and my birthday. They were very romantic affairs. Of course, I use the term "affair" quite loosely, because while we had many physical encounters, we never did the deed, which probably should have been another indicator.

But his parents, and his father in particular, did not care for me. How could anyone not care for Miss Bethie? Other than the guys I want to date, I mean. Well, basically, his dad had 2 concerns. First, and foremost, was the religious debate. His dad thought he should date only Catholic girls. His dad was devote. And, as a side note, creeped my friends and I out because he looked like Hannibal Lecture from Silence of the Lambs, but didn't have the charm, intellect or charisma.
Also, he thought I was distracting J.G. from everything else. Soccer. School. Church. You name it, I was hampering it.

But J.G., and his brothers, and I think his mom, really liked me. And J.G. would stick up for me when his dad was being a jerk--which was quite often. It seemed romantic at the time.

J.G.'s birthday was in mid-November, and I (again) went all out, (again) with thoughts of S-E-X on my mind. And yet again, I was shot down, BUT, not before he made a toast to me. He told me that I was the most important person in the world to him. He loved me completely (as complete as it can be with out the sex, I s'pose) and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. I make his see what kind of man he really is.

I was teary-eyed and euphoric. How lucky was I to find my soulmate at the age of 20!? I would get my teaching certificate, he would work in business, and we would have beautiful children together. Perfect children. Who would be good soccer players.

So, when the following we, I get the "I am trying to avoid you!" vibe, my heart nearly shattered. He stopped returning calls, was busy all the time and was short when I was able to talk to him.

Finally I was able to get a hold of him. He told me, quite simply, very starkly, that he didn't love me anymore. He didn't know what changed, but it just happened. I suspected it was over a foreign exchange student he was friends with, whom he always said was beautiful. But, now I know that isn't the case.

I was in a funk, and quite depressed. I still would go and visit his brother at his college, where I had several friends. He was a skinny dorky kid, and I always felt motherly to him. I would take him to Denny's and get him carry out after I stuffed him to capacity there. We never talked about J.G. His brother really liked me and I think he was disappointed things didn't work out. (Evidently a theme of mine in the college days).

I ended up dating, and eventually getting engaged to one of the guys at college with J.G.'s brother. I totally thought he was a rebound, be I guess it blossomed from there.

One weekend, when out with the girls, our favorite dance club was closed, very unexpectedly. No biggie. We just wanted to dance to some techno-music and weren't interested in the meat market, so we were happy to go across the street to the gay dance club. We loved it there, anyway, because there was plenty of eye-candy, men who could dance, and great drinks.

Imagine my surprise when I saw J.G. there with a gay friend of his. Their relationship had obviously moved in a different direction. And he had taken up smoking, too!

I felt such closure afterwards, and even grew to feel flattered. He thought I might be the girl to make him go straight! He thought I had that much magnetism! Right?

And I still, to this day, think of his devote father, who wanted J.G. with a Catholic girl. I am sure he would sell his Catholic soul to have a son who was hetero. And J.G.'s youngest brother, who was REALLY cute, was also gay, as fate would have it. I wouldn't be totally surprised, either, to find that his middle brother, whom I used to visit at college, is also gay.

The funny thing is, the man my mom broke her engagement from when she met my dad, turned out to be gay, and both my brothers dated lesbians. Must be in our genes.