QColumn: A Gay In The Life: The Agreement

The Agreement
By Steve Prince
He clutched my hand as if it were a lifeline. Peter felt nervous; I could tell by the shortness of his speech and the way his eyes darted back and forth. I wanted to be sympathetic, I really did.
“You’re quiet,” I said, trying to make small talk.
He smacked his lips, his mouth dry from nervousness. “Not much to say,” he said flatly.
The pathetic tone of his voice melded itself around my heart; pity crept into my chest and began to burrow itself into my stomach. I did love him, but was that sustainable? It’s odd. It’d been so long since I’d been in a relationship. I think the longer you’re single the more you begin to think about a relationship as idea or a thing—a goal to achieve. Yet once you have one you have it, that’s not the reality at all—it has you. The relationship is a process you both take and there’s no endgame; to succeed you have to keep changing with it.
Things weren’t changing with Peter and I. When I thought of our relationship, images of moss clinging motionless over still water ebbed in m mind. We felt stagnant, stuck in our issues.
I was still bitter from Cracked Xmas and the realization that my friends could all be in “out” couples still stung. I needed Peter to not only be my boyfriend, but to be proud of me. Still, I didn’t want to push him. All too well I remember being outed and still feel resentment towards the man who did it. It was as if that man had taken something from me that was my own; I couldn’t do that to Peter.
Peter’s hand twitched as a car swerved in front us. “I don’t want to go.”

“So why are you going back home for so long again?” I asked.
“My mom needs help moving,” Peter answered. “I really think she’s just missed me and wants me home for longer.”
“Probably so,” I said absent-mindedly.
“Now that I’m gone she has no one to take care of her,” Peter continued.
It was true. Peter’s mom did rely on him—too much if you ask me. It was like he was supposed to take the place of her husband. When Pete was home, she would get upset if he stayed out too late or if he didn’t spend enough time with her. I remember in high school thinking she didn’t like me, as if I had taken Peter from her. It was fucked up and not fair to Peter.
“Then just don’t do it,” I said abruptly.
“What do you mean?” Peter asked.
“Don’t take care of her so much,” I continued.
Peter sighed, “I can’t do that Steve. I’m all that she has.”
“What about her parents?” I said.
“Nana and Poppa are too old to take care of themselves, you know that” Peter said. He sounded annoyed. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t think it is,” I said, my resentment getting the best of me.
Peter’s hand let go of mine, and I put my other hand on the steering wheel.
“Dude, are you pissed at my Mom or something?” he said.
“Not really,” I lied. “I just want you to be able to do what you need to do for yourself. You can’t live your life for everyone else, Peter. You’ll end up with the shit end of the stick.”
“Here we go,” he said with and exasperated sigh.
“Fine,” I said, hurt by his sigh.
“No,” Peter said turning, “let’s get it out. You’ve been acting pissy for a week now and I’m sick of it. You’re fucking ashamed of me and you know it. You have been all along.”
“What?” I was confused now.
“I’ve been weighing you and your friends,” he quipped. “You’ve already gotten your life here in California and I’ve set you back because I’m not ‘out’ enough for you.”
My mouth tightened as he continued. I tried to divert my attention back to driving in an effort to take my anger from the conversation.
“I’m sorry if I’m not the boyfriend you wanted, Steve,” Peter’s voice began to flame with anger. “I’m sorry you can’t prance me around and wear my letter jacket, like some little bitch in high school, but you don’t understand what I’ve been going through…no one does.”
“Peter, yes I do,” I answered, of course I remember what coming out was like.
“Bullshit, man,” he said bitterly. “Look at your life. Look at your family. Your Mom, Dad, and your brother. Do you think my brother would come out for my birthday if he knew I was fucking fag? I haven’t even seen my father in five years and once he knows about this do you think he’ll ever want to be around me again? And my Mom. Dammit!” Peter paused, his eyes misting with tears. “It’ll kill her Steve. It’ll be the biggest hurt she’s ever had.”
He looked at me.
“And she’ll hate you,” he said, the anger falling from his tone. Now all I could hear was sadness and regret.
His sentence almost shocked me off the road. I wanted to look at him.
“My mother won’t blame me for this, she’ll blame you,” he said. “And I love you so much. I can’t have her hate you. I can’t. I love you so much, so much. She’ll never get that. She’ll never get us.”
My hand slid from the steering wheel to Peter’s. Graciously, he wrapped both his hands around mine.
“Ok,” I said softly, knowing I needed to back down. We were almost at the airport. “OK. Let’s just get you home, and I’ll be there a week after.”
For the next five minutes we both sat quietly except for Peter’s sniffles. I pulled the car in front of the Frontier terminal and got out to get Peter’s bag from the trunk. Once I pulled it to the curb, I looked at him. His sheepish smile and red face darted to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” he began to mumble.
“Hey,” I said. “Just shut up and kiss me one last time, because this ain’t gonna happen in Oklahoma.”
He embraced me. I could feel the warmth of his body as the December chill fluttered around us—it felt cold, even for Los Angeles.
We broke apart, and he looked at me inquisitively. “But what about, when we’re in Oklahoma?” he asked. “What do you expect?”
“I expect nothing,” I said and I gave him another short kiss. “I’m following your lead this time. Whole-heartedly. Whatever you need me to be, I’ll be. Hell, if you want me to fingerbang some girl right in front of your Mom, I will. I’ll do it.”
Peter through his head back, “Eww, Steve. My Mom!”
We shared a much needed laugh.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said squeezing my hand.
“You will,” I answered squeezing his hand back.
And then he turned and walked away, blending into the mass of people.
I stood there summoning my resolve. Next week when I went to Oklahoma, it would to be hard to not be truthful. Peter was right—my own family was amazing and they would support me no matter what. As I stood there, I realized that next week; I would need their support more than ever. But I would do it. I can get through this. I will. For him.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch
Here Cums The Rain Again
Dinner For Two
Blow by Blow
Commando
Cum As You Are?
Aftershock!
Caught in the Act
The Great Compromise
The Tipping Point
Cross Country
In Stereo
Get Smart
Blind Faith
The Dirty Mexican
A Few Good Men
Peter’s End
Getting Stuffed
The Good Boy
Cracking Up