Better Than Good, Lane Hayes
Almost three years ago now I met someone who changed my life. Everything about me. My direction, my plans for a future and ultimately how I viewed myself. I fell in love with someone so bright, so beautiful and so completely the opposite of me it was difficult for my to process the magnitude of my attraction. I fell hard. I was frightened on one hand but I was also compelled and more determined than ever to have some connection with him, anything he’d give me. I was convinced I would have even settled for friendship. Thankfully I got more. For the first time in my life, I pursued someone of my own sex.
When I first acknowledged to my friends that I was bisexual it came as a surprise. They asked the inevitable questions… Are you just curious? Are you gay for him? The answer was no. I was bisexual. No one knew. I never said a word. But I knew. The truth is I never had to say anything because I never met a man I wanted as intensely as I wanted Aaron. That doesn’t mean I’d never been tempted. I fought the feeling any way I could.
When I was in high school and even college, I studied harder, I practiced longer. I did anything to avoid acknowledging the attraction I sometimes felt toward members of my same sex. I figured my saving grace was that I still got turned on when I saw a really beautiful girl. I didn’t have to be different if I could just control my urges.
I know now I was born this way. Like a gay man is exclusively attracted to men or a straight man is to women only, I was wired to be an equal opportunity lover. I’m attracted to women, yes. But now I’m honest about the other side of me. I am and always have been attracted to men also.
I knew something was up (literally) when I fifteen and couldn’t take my eyes off of the captain of the varsity football team. Chad Corcoran was our high school quarterback. He was tall but thin, with a winning smile, a handsome face and a killer bod. One of my buddies at the lunch table caught me gawking at him one day and asked me if I had a crush on him. It wasn’t a polite inquiry. I was being taunted. I think I shoved my so-called friend hard, called him a name and generally berated him for even suggested I was gay. Then I coolly said I was interested in becoming QB, that’s all.
Throughout my high school years I began to notice for every two girls I found pretty, there was at least one guy who made me tongue-tied and would usually feature in my late night masturbation material. I won’t lie… it freaked me out. I came from a large loving family I knew supported me no matter what, but what would any of them say to a bolt out of the blue like that? I couldn’t even begin to fathom the awkward conversations. The thought of dealing with their disappointment and disgust was more than I could bear to contemplate. It was hard enough navigating high school without adding the pressure of questioning my sexuality. So I chose not to explore my “gay” side. If I liked girls and was able to perform, there was no reason my interest in men would ever be an issue. I could steer my thoughts away from firm bodies and hard abs, control my compulsion and live the life I wanted. The one I was expected to live. I would finish law school, pass the bar, get a great job in the city and eventually marry, buy a house and start a family. I had it all mapped out.
Then came Aaron.
We met at a gay dance club. I was there with my out and proud roommate Curt. There was a group of us and we’d been partying for a while. Our stop in the gayborhood of DC was a lark. We were supportive of our friend and considered ourselves liberal minded guys but we didn’t frequent gay bars or clubs. This was an anomaly. Needless to say, meeting the man I would fall head over heels for wasn’t something that sprang to mind.
I’ve never met anyone like Aaron. He was unique… insanely beautiful with dark hair, olive skin and gorgeous hazel eyes. He was small (five foot eight to my six one) and lean, but toned. The first thing I noticed about him on that dance floor was how he moved. He was so confident and sure of himself. I was mesmerized by him. And later, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Eventually I caught on that this feeling, this longing wasn’t going away. When I met him by chance the next time, I did everything I could to get him to stay with me, talk to me, be near me. I loved hearing his voice, watching his hands move in rhythm to the stories he wove. Everything about him was magnetic. I could barely string two sentences together, I was so overwhelmed by his joie de vie.
He didn’t trust me at first. Who could blame him? I’d broken up with a recent girlfriend and was by all intents and purpose a straight man to everyone who knew me. Loving him the way he deserved would take a fuck load of courage on my part. But the alternative…. that was unfathomable. We took a chance on each other and it’s paid off a million times over.
In the past three years, I’ve weathered some serious changes. Mostly positive. When I met Aaron I met the other half of me. The part of me that demanded a voice. The gift of love is the greatest of all… so we’re taught. Its power is not to be questioned or quantified. It simply is. Coming out to myself was a difficult process. It took almost a decade for me to accept who I am. Coming out to my friends and family was harder. My friends were relatively easy. My family… well, they’re a work in progress.
At the end of the day, this is my life. No one else lives in my head or wears my shoes. I never expected to meet someone like Aaron. I could never have predicted falling so hard for someone so out of my league. I count myself unbelievably fortunate he feels the same for me. How could I ever give this up? How could I ever deny myself simply to make others feel more comfortable. I won’t. I am a bisexual man in a gay relationship I will do everything in my power to make last a lifetime. And I am proud.