His name was Kieth.
He was 6"2' at least, only a bit taller than me. He was long of limb and something about his body was not quite right; proportions were off somewhere, he was a little awkward, and uncoordinated. He had some tone, but I could tell he used to be heavier, still had a barely noticeable paunch about the belt-line. He had been clean shaven with dark hair, brown maybe dirty blonde I can't really remember anymore.
The face he wears in my memory is not true anymore, I know. I can only see flashes, his mouth mostly. I like to think he had amber eyes, though in truth I don't think so. Some details have gone. I can't recall the scent or taste of him, but remember the strangeness of it; the difference of another's body. Other details remain. I can still feel the hair on his thighs against my palms. Gripping him in both hands. exploring the shape of him with my tongue. Only vivid flashes, pieces of him remain. His hand clawing at the sheet beside my face, arms and body fading into darkness. The warmth of his naked body against mine. Adrenaline racing through me. The feel of him inside me; strange, exciting, new. Kieth's hands all over me, seeking purchase before the end. Sitting on his couch, running my fingers through his hair, watching, guiding.
The ghost of the man I knew stalks my memory...
Keith was kind.
It hurts me to know that someone who played an important role in my life is fading from me, into obscurity. Only the important things remain. I could tell you of our awkwardness, all of the cringe worthy memories I have tried to bury and forget. Those memories that remain are for us. I prefer to think of how he tried to hold me and tell me I was beautiful. I didn't believe him-I never grew accustomed to the compliments, it was my fault. Never too insistent, he waited for me with a smile. He talked me through some of the most confusing moments in my life, held my hand, comforted me. Ultimately, I rejected him. Did I break him? I like to think not, he had more heart than that; knew me too well to be more than momentarily sad. I'm sure he thinks of me fondly.
What remains of Kieth.
The story that follows is for him as much as it is for me. I am happy with the life I have made, the woman I love, the dreams I've followed. I only wish to preserve something of my past, the impression of who we were, what we wanted. Everything I have told so far is true. Kieth is a real man who exists as I have described him. Some of what follows is true, most of it is not. Believe what you will. Wherever he finds himself now, maybe he will find himself here. This is a future that could have been, was not; a wish. The men we were, idealized as what we wanted.
Kieth & the Heart of Dark.
I met Kieth in the theater. I was the master electrician for our small local community college. Basically, I hung lights from catwalks and bars suspended over the stage. The title was really rather more impressive if you didn't know what I was doing. Kieth was taking a class that required him to help back stage for a certain number of hours. I needed help, he was available, and so we struck up a conversation as we worked. It wasn't long before we were laughing and joking around.
"Nice ass," Kieth remarked once while we were in the catwalks.
We had been joking around off and on for an entire week. "Easy there, nancy. It'll take more than flattery to get into my pants."
"No really," he smiled. "I think you actually have a nice ass."
"Uh, okay. That's weird. Thanks, I guess?" I shrugged it off and didn't think anything more of it.
It wasn't long before he finished the hours he needed for his class. On his last day helping me hang lights, he invited me to come watch some movie at his place. He had mentioned he had a large TV and surround sound, both things my apartment lacked. As it turned out we both lived in the same apartment complex, though his building was on the opposite side from mine. Soon we were hanging out after classes, watching movies, and bullshitting like old friends would do.
I was at his apartment one day, and both being fans of the theater, he had suggested we watch Rent. We had both seen it before, it played quietly in the background. I wonder if he had suggested it by design or if mere happenstance led us forward. One way or another, the conversation inevitably led to sex, as it always seems to.
"God you have such a nice ass," he blurted again as I walked into the kitchen to get another drink.
I stopped, equal parts confused and embarrassed. "Are you gay?" I asked bluntly. Then quickly trying to back peddle, "I mean, I don't care if you are, but you sound really serious when you say that."
"No," he grinned mischievously.
Satisfied for the moment I sat down next to him and pondered his smile, his silence. "So, You're straight?"
"No."
"I don't understand," I was genuinely confused. "I thought you said you were engaged to a woman back in Texas. So, which is it?"
That grin again. "Neither."
"Okay," I drew the word out. "You have to be one or the other. What else is there?"
"You really don't know?"
"No," I said flatly. I really didn't, as odd as that sounds today. Other orientations, genders, and the like were never really discussed when I was a kid. It was either you were normal and straight or, if you were different in any way at all, weird and gay. Those were the binaries that ruled. I had probably learned, maybe in sex ed, that other orientations were possible. Somehow, it still never occurred to me to think otherwise.
Maybe I was sheltered and naive, or maybe I was still too ashamed of my own adolescent experimentation and fantasies. I felt that my 'gay' desires were a darkness that I had to silently harbor and suffer with. I couldn't admit there could be anything more than simply being straight.
"I'm bi," he raised his eyebrows expectantly.
I thought it over for a bit. I had never actually met anyone that was bisexual, as far as I knew. "So, you're bi. How does that work? I mean, I get that it means you like both, but.. I don't get it. If you suck dick... you're gay."
"Why not both? Seriously, its not that difficult to understand. I see a hot woman, I want to fuck her. I see a hot guy, I want to fuck him. That's it. Really not complicated at all."
The conversation continued throughout the movie and well into the next. All the while Kieth tried to dispel my naivete which I held onto fearfully, stubbornly. Over the next couple of weeks, sexuality soon took over all of our conversations. I was more curious than I could admit to myself, and somehow, Kieth always managed to make it easy to talk about.
He told me of himself. It turned out that, while he had initially hidden how he felt, his engagement ended when he 'came' out. He moved from Texas and in college he had began taking gender studies classes in addition to his ordinary course load.
In turn, I told him everything including the shame and guilt of what I had done; buried deep away inside myself. About how my first sexual contact was a boy whose name I never learned at a sleep-over birthday party for Anthony, the son of a family friend. We were fourteen, young and full of hormones. A game of late night 'truth or dare' that quickly deteriorated. About how, after that night, Anthony and I had continued for several years. I told him about the girls I had dated, and how I'd never been kissed. Despite that, both of my high school girlfriends had let me finger them, give them orgasms, but neither had ever reciprocated. I told him about my first blowjob in high school. We had traded blow jobs in shed behind his house after school one fall day. About the years of fantasies that just wouldn't go away.
"You might be bi," Kieth had said afterwards. "Although, you're so deep in the closet its almost painful."
"No," I laughed. "I'm definitely straight."
"Dude," he drew the word out. "You've never done more than finger a girl, you fantasize about fucking men, you've jerked off other guys, and sucked off at least the one. That's gay, if not at least bi."
"I was a kid," my face was beginning to flush. Despite every thing we had talked about, I was still incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of my desires. "That was just... experimentation. I can't be gay."
"So gay." He shook his head and grinned.
Finals were approaching and I saw less and less of Kieth. Occasionally one of us would text the other, but more often than not class or work interfered. The week before finals was known as 'dead week'. There were no classes the week before finals, ostensibly to study. The library and all nearby coffee shops stayed open twenty four hours all through dead week and finals week. Some people studied, a lot of people partied all week. I always became like a cloistered monk at the end of the semester, holing myself in my room or the library to study. It was the middle of dead week when he texted.
Kieth: hey its been a while. wyd atm
Me: just studying for finals why?
Kieth: nm thought you might be able to help
Me: maybe whats up?
Kieth: its ok it can wait
Me: really... i'm not getting anything done anyway how can I help?
I waited for several minutes but no response seemed forthcoming. I tried calling him, but it just rang through to voice mail. Something was out of place so I made up my mind to walk over and see if he was home. I had just locked my front door when he finally responded.
