Date: Sat, 23 Jan 2010 11:10:58 -0800 (PST)
From: Ryan White <ryanstories@yahoo.com>
Subject: My South African journey

Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a story. First and foremost I
guess that its my duty to tell you that this chapter and all my other
stories are 100% true. All of these stuff that I write about is some of my
experiences sine I came to South Africa in December 2008.

Hope you all enjoy and please let me me know what you think by sending me a
little note at ryanstories@yahoo.com

Well like I said everything I will be writing about in this chapter aswell
as this story will be true. I was born in the United States, in New York.
Went to the best schools, got the best possible education that my parents
could afford. My mother is a psychiatrist and my father is a sports coach.
I had a lot of sexual experiences at highschool. My first was with my best
friend, okay, we shall just call him David, as I don't want to reveal his
real name just in case a closet homosexual who knows him decides to read
this. Anyway, David and I were on the soccer team together and after
practise, we would normally go to one or the other's houses to just chill
or to do homework if we had any. So we were kicking back at my house when
he suddenly suggested that we gotta get girls. Now remember we were 15 at
the time, and if a boy does not have or indeed show any interest in a
certain or a lot of girls, he is concidered to be gay. If not in jest, then
in real bullying. Now, the thing is, after watching Titanic in 1998, and
after that Romeo and Juliet, I realised that Leonardo Dicaprio was the most
beautiful creature that I had ever seen. Now while fully being aware that
thinking this about Dicaprio was concidered to be gay, I couldn't stop
it. I mean, that face, that body, that oh so sweet smile...it was killing
me that I couldn't tell anyone. That afternoon things started to turn ugly
as David started talking about the girls that he wanted, as he put it, to
fuck. Now ofcourse I knew that the hell he was talking about, but in my
very strict upbringing, that word was never mentioned in our house. Even
when my father had the very uncomfortible task about talking to me about
the `birds and the bees', he used words like, "your sexual organ" and
"sexual intercourse". I don't know who was blushing more by the end, him or
me? Anyway David started rubbing his crotch while speaking of all these,
and I have to mention, sexy girls, but obviously I had no interest in what
he was saying. David turned towards me and asked me what girls I liked. I
sat there like a lump of potatoes before quickly saying that I haven't
totally noticed them yet. That afternoon was the turning point in my
life. For the first time I was confronted with bow my life might play
out. My answer in regards to that question would now and forever be..."I
haven't totally noticed them yet." Two years later, at the age of 17, I
ended up in bed with David. His girlfriend at the time had just dumped him
for a guy 5 years older and already at University. He really loved her and
wanted to marry her as soon as we graduated highschool. Well, I did what
any best friend would do. I placed my arms around him to calm him down, as
he began to toss things around in his room, looking like he's gonna break
the fucking room down. So like I said, I grabbed him at the arms and threw
him on the bed. Immediately, anger rose up in him and wanted to tackle me
back, but I jumped on top of him and ordered him to shut the hell up. I
think he saw me angry for the first time in his life and I truly shocked
him to silence. I kinda softned my glare and leaned down slowly, to only
placed him full weight on top of him.

"Now will you calm down, David. Im here for you."

I remember it like it was yesterday. I reached over with my hand and gently
brushed it through his spiky gelled hair. Rough ends of hair mixed with
daily sweat were pouring into my emotions and I could not get enough of the
so called forbidden fruit. He looked up to me with those big blue
eyes...and he smiled. I slowly placed my lips upon his, and for the first
time I knew what it was like kissing another guy. I thought I would always
remain a closet gay guy pretending to be into girls and shit like that, but
ot was really one of those moments that, if you were to take a chance, do
it, and that was one of the best decitions that I ever made. Well, I know
you want me to tell you that we gave eachother blowjobs and that the fucked
until the sun came up, but we did not. My father ame home and unfortuately,
the wrong time and as we were in the heaven to our kiss, we did not hear
him.

Well, what would you say if your father caught you and another boy making
out on your bed? Naturally he told David, im much stronger words, to fuck
off and never set foot in our house ever again. I have never seen my father
so angry before. The whole night futher long I was hearing..."you're my
only son"..."my son can't be a faggot"..."what the hell drove you to this?"
Im telling you guys, I was crushed, I was always sorta hoping that when my
parents eventually found out that they would understand. Oh hell no. Even
my mother, who was by far my favorite of my parents, had a tough time
understanding. The long and the short of the story is that me and my father
could not longer live together in one house after that day. He would always
find something wrong within the house or in my schoolwork to fuck off to me
about and half of the time it was not even worth arguing back.

The funny thing is that when we were divided for a group assignment for our
Geography projects, me and David were in a group together. So, know you
have to know that David and I never spoke a word to eachother since my
father caught us in bed making uot that day, because that bastard that my
father is, he called David's folks and told them what happened. Needless to
say, a lot of tears were shed between us from that day onwards. Well the
task was to pick a country, any country, and discuss the tourist
attractions, languages, their money currency, their different cultures,
etc. Well since me, David and...lets called him Tom, were all into soccer,
we chose South Africa, since the next soccer World Cup would be held there,
and until me and David stopped talking, were playing with the idea to go
over there in the year 2010 to watch, even if the United States did not
manage to qualify, which they thankfully did, and now the plans were up in
flames until we got this assignment. I was glad to discover that they spoke
English in South Africa, so if we went, we would not struggle or shit like
that. The tension between me and David had poor Tom on edge but there was
not way either of us would tell him, the reason.

And the worst was yet to come. When Tom came over one day to chill and play
soccer in our backyard, my father accidently overheard Tom talking about
what's going on between me and David. Naturally he was referring to the
conflict between us, but my father got the twitch of the stick that we were
seeing eachother again. After Tom left, my father did what I never thought
he would. He started beating me, screaming and shouting at me that I was
worthless, that I was throwing my life away and even went as far as
accusing my mother of having an affair, as there was no way that I could be
his son. Well, that's the cold hard truth of what happens if you're
different. I hated being gay, I hated my life. But thanks to my Christian
upbringing I would never attempt to kill myself, allthough I was serverly
tested on that one. Can't people understand that people who are gay DOES
NOT choose to be this way? Oh well, I was nursing my wounds late that
night, when I heard my door open. It was my mother, bringing me a plate of
food. She sat down on the bed with me, and it's at that point when the
tears came. I was 17 years old, but still felt safe when my mom held me in
her arms while I cried. I repeatedly told her im sorry, that it wasn't my
choice and that she must please forgive me, when she kissed my on the
forehead and told me that it was ok. She wasn't a hundred percent ok with
my sexuality, but not enough to turn her back on her only child. She did
however tell me that my father wanted nothing to do with me and that he
gave her an ultimatum. Either I would leave the house, or he would. She
left me that night with a lot of thoughts, and I started thinking of
David. Until that night I never realised how deeply I felt for him. Somehow
in all of this crap that went on in my life, I sat up in my bed and shook
with shock. I was in love with David, my best friend. And I made a choice
right there and then.

The next morning when I woke up, I showered and shaved off a few of the
hairs on my chin and headed down to the kitchen, where I could smell my
mother making my favorite: Bacon and eggs! As she sat the food infront of
me, I hungrily started to eat and during me devouring my orange juice, I
noticed my mother looking at me with a thoughtful expression on her face. I
asked her what's wrong and she just shook her head. I urged her harder,
because whatever it was, was really working on her. Well, I asked for it,
and she told me that my father had moved out, and basicly told her that he
would only move back if I was not living there. I sat there, with the tears
starting to stream out of my eyes. I was planning to tell David that day
that I loved him. I wanted to take him in my arms and feel his love for me
aswell, because somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew he felt that
same. After I finished eating I went up to my room, sat down on my bed and
looked around it. The walls plastered with Manchester United posters, pics
of friends and of Avril Lavigne and Robbie Williams. All of it, was it
worth still regarding this as memories? My eyes floated over our Geography
assignment...South Africa?

The end of the story was that I went downstairs with my mother still
sitting there. If there was any doubt in my heart, it evoporated seeing her
so...alone. Eventually she saw me, and my bags next to me. She looked up to
me with fright in her eyes, and mine confirmed what her's was asking.
Thanks to my parents paying money into a account for me since I was born,
with the meaning that I use that when my University days arrive, I managed
to book me a flight to Johannesburg, South Africa. My flight would leave at
10 that night. I could not break up a 10 year old marriage, just because I
was gay. Many of you might ask, why not fight back against my father and
make him understand somehow? Fact is, I didn't want to. I was sick and
tired to pretend that I was straight and try being something that I could
never be in the full sence of the word. I think, if I remember correctly, I
think it was a little over 4 hours before my flight would depart, that I
texted David and asked him to meet me in the park. The same park that we
use to play football when we were tots. I knew that it won't be long before
I would once again start to cry so I just came out and said it. Im leaving
for South Africa. At once he said that he would come along with me. Believe
or or not, that's what I wanted to hear. I was begging inside my heart to
hear him say it. And as it did, I realised what we would be doing. I
already make trouble in my parents's relationship, I didn't want to
responcible for more heartache. I told him no. After another few minutes of
begging he finally gave in and we were silent for a couple of minutes. It
was getting close to 7 in the evening and the park was deserted. I sighed
as I placed my head upon his shoulders, and we just sat there, looking at
the darkness starting to surround us. It was have been freezing, but we
didn't care. When my mother called me and told me to come home in time for
her to take me to the airport, I knew that the time had come. I stood up,
pulling David up with me. This time it was him who was crying. I embraced
him, with the promise that I would come back for him as soon as I could. He
nuzzled my neck and softly kissed it. Oh my goodness...  and then he told
me for the first time that he loved me. I told him I loved him to, and that
I will be back. Once kiss later, and I was running away from his as fast as
I could, not wanting him to see the snow mixing with the tears on my face.

As I said goodbye to my mother, I wondered when I would see her again. I
knew I had enough money to keep me going for a while in South Africa, but I
was determined to find a job. My mother tried until the last second to
persuade me not to do this, but I knew that my mom and dad were the love of
eachother's lives, and I knew how she felt about him. And it was at that
point where I realised I still, even after all that he had done, I still
loved my father. My flight was starting to board. My new life was just
beginning.

And so, 12 hours later on the 21st of December 2008, I found myself at
Johannesburg International airport. And as we made my exit from the plane,
down to the conveyer belt to get my luggage, I breathed in my first breath
of Africa. I could never have known how fond I would become of this
beautiful country.

End of chapter 1. Again, all of this really happened to me. I'm sorry if I
can't recall of of it exactly as it happened, but I'll do my best. This
chapter was just to give you some background on my situation and how I
ended up here in South Africa. It would also give you an insight to why I
did some of the fucked up stuff once I got here. But that's for chapter 2.

To any South Africans that might be reading, I would especially like to
hear from you!

Hope you enjoyed it!

ryanstories@yahoo.com