Indistinct Mumblings of an Unsound Mind

Without saying anything regarding my professor, I have chosen a secondary subject, should he choose not to re-grade the assignment based on the standards outlined in his syllabus and classroom assignments. Being that his main complaint (mind you, not anything academically incorrect, just his preference for subject matter) is that the event I chose to write about wasn’t significant enough (see here), I have re-written the assignment based on another memory that should be, somehow, more significant.

Enjoy.


L***’s Invention 1

Shaping Your Story

Growing up in a Christian children’s home, I have always loved music and plays. I was a member in the church choral group, a part-time director of the church music program, and the audio/visual director for the theatre productions. When I finally had the opportunity to join the school drama club, I was more than happy to banter with them, providing information on my varied backgrounds, and enjoying being part of a team that was more apt and able to produce challenging content – content that I would not be able to find a place for in the home’s church.

Three months into the drama program, I was pulled aside and taken to the initiation. It was something they all laughed about and giggled. I knew there would be a mild amount of drinking, and whenever there was drinking there was, of course, smoking. It was supposed to be a relaxed event where everyone got to know each other better. At least, that’s what they said to me.

Recalling Your Remembered Feelings and Thoughts

At the time, I was very inebriated. We were drunk and had smoked ourselves stupid. The drama teacher was there, but she wasn’t really paying attention. There was just too much going on to take into account all the teenagers there, and we were all on our best behavior, lest she figure out we were plastered. Beside, this was an afterschool, elective club – we were able to come and go as we wished. So I don’t really blame her for not noticing when my best friend, Tara, came by and snatched me up, laughing and joking with me as she duct-taped my hands and arms to my sides. I knew this was coming, but didn’t know exactly what it entailed.

At first, when they put me in the refrigerator box, I was laughing. Laying down flat, on my back, with a pillow under my head and another pillow relieving the pressure beneath my tailbone, Tara was staring, on all fours right above me. Kissing me, she slithered her way out of the box, stopping at the bottom. I wasn’t entirely in the box – my lower half was extending just past the top flaps of the box. The last thing I saw was my best friend smiling and saying, “You’re going to enjoy this.” Then she pushed the flap down so I couldn’t see what was going on and my pants were removed.

Being drunk, I didn’t really care. The next thing I knew, I heard a group of maybe ten people snickering and laughing. I thought, for a brief moment, that they were laughing at my size. I’m not exactly a gifted person in that department. After what seemed like a few minutes, it was obvious they weren’t laughing at me at all, but they were laughing at their plan instead. I could hear them shouting letters. “B!” “S!” “G!” “He’s definitely a B, Jon.” “I’m for a ‘S’ over here.”  Only later would I find out they were placing bets on my orientation.

After everyone began to quiet down, I heard a girl giggle from down below, by my groin, and the next thing that happened outright surprised me. I was on the receiving end of fellatio. Only, I was a lot younger, so I called it a blowjob. It was glorious, one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced. Whether it was the anxiety and the anticipation of not knowing what was going to happen, or the person was really that talented, I will never know. I can’t say how long it lasted, and I’m not going to go into elaborate details.

When all was said and done, they opened the box and let me out. Tara smiled at me again, pointedly wiping her mouth and asking, “Did you like it?” Of course I did, and they all knew it. They watched me as I orgasmed, then they did it to me again. I was feeling a bit vulnerable, and then she said something that turned my world on end, “It’s ok – I liked it the first time a boy went down on me, too. The real question is, “Can you tell the difference?”

It took me a moment to comprehend the question. So much was said with so few words. I was angry at the situation and felt betrayed by my best friend. Worse: I am (potentially) gay. What would I tell my pastor? My house-parents? How could I even go to church anymore? Everything that I had been taught was in question here. If it was so enjoyable, and I couldn’t tell the difference between man and woman, why did it matter? God obviously didn’t strike me down.

A thousand things went through my mind in that moment: Thoughts on God, thoughts on friendship, thoughts on relationships, thoughts on love, pressure from my church, pressure on myself, morals and lessons I had learned from home. All these things weighed heavy on me, but the truth was that I liked it both times, and that didn’t bother me in the least.

That day I learned more about myself and the world than any other day I have lived. I learned that sexual gratification and love are two different things. I figured out that social boundaries are self-imposed: There is no reason why I couldn’t enjoy myself with another man, and that made me go home and think even deeper: Can I love a man? The next day I awoke with the viewpoint that you can love a person, have sex with a person, have a relationship with a person, and never really care about that person’s gender.

Exploring Your Present Perspective

Now that I’m older, I’ve thought about this often. I’ve had many partners: Male, Female, and Otherwise. My life has been fulfilling, and I cannot perceive how much of it I would have missed by holding on to my past prejudices and learned behaviors of the people that raised me. I stopped being resentful about the situation about a week afterward. I couldn’t help but laugh at it. The only other thing I can add is that it taught me openness and learning in all things – even those we may be angry about. I now approach everything with a mind, even the most painful of things. I’m ready to learn and try, and will never be the one set in my ways, unwilling to look at possibilities.

Categories: English

Leave a Reply