Do we all have a story of a friend who came out to us? I have several, but the one I remember most is a very good friend of mine in college, Tony. We hung out all the time, talking and eating and drinking and just doing what college freshman do. I knew he was gay.  I don’t mean he told me, but I suspected.  Was it in how he talked or dressed? No, not that I can recall. He didn’t have a lisp or swish his hips and he wasn’t overtly feminine in any way. I just knew there was something he was keeping and hiding. At that time I was pretty good at reading people – in fact, I was pretty good at hiding stuff myself so I could see a kindred spirit in Tony.  One night, we were sitting in the lounge in my all girls’ dorm and he said “I’m gay” and I said “I know.”  We went out and bought bad bologna sandwiches from the gas station and cleaned them out of candy and I think we got 4 packs of cigarettes.  We sat up all night laughing and joking and he was Tony.  He was out.  At least to me. Over the next several weeks he came out to others.  And, some took it well, others did not.  This was 1990, and things were not like they are now.  Union College, while a liberal arts school, was not the liberal place I had envisioned college to be, growing up with tales of demonstrations at Berkeley and heavy drug use in Washington Square Park by NYU.

Tony started wearing eyeliner. He started dating a much older guy. He wore smoking jackets and started to become a bit more effeminate.  He drank a lot more. He was figuring himself out.  I was wearing fishnets and combat boots, rallying against the Greek system (which I was more than happy to use for it’s free beer) and was figuring myself out.  Tony, after a while, decided being that gay (as he put it) wasn’t for him. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to be straight. He told me he was straight and in love with me.  I, in my 19 year old state of mind, felt betrayed by him.  I supported him and stood by him while others ran away. He’d been privy to things that most guys would never glimpse, the secret girl world and the secret girl code.  I just didn’t get it.  He was still figuring it out.  But I didn’t get it.  How could you not be gay, then be gay, then not be gay?  You either liked to suck cock or you didn’t.  Now I know, things are hardly ever that simple, especially when you are 19.

I turned my back on him.  He left Union the next semester.

I’ve never told this story before because it is shameful. But there it is.  That was, my friends, my first experience with really fucking things up.