Whoops, random thoughts predating high school relating to sexuality

After school, on days that I didn't have band practice, I would watch General Hospital. My mom still was babysitting kids, but at this age, they simply annoyed me, so I would go into my parent's bedroom and watch tv laying on their bed. Now, I really liked General Hospital, but even more I liked Sally Jesse Raphael. Sometimes Donahue was on to. It was ok, but I loved Sally. Ok, I didn't really love Sally. I loved it when Sally had on male strippers. LOVED IT! I told myself that I was going to be a stripper when I grew up. Why else would I be so fascinated by them? My dad would get home early some days. I would smell the coal dust before I would hear him in his bedroom. When I sensed he was there, I would make like I was flipping the channels and not really watching the strippers, just watching General Hospital instead. He never said a word.

I heard talk of folks checking out the JcPenny catalog for the sexy models. I tried to look at the bra ads, but it wasn't right to look at girls in their underwear. I was a boy, and of course, looking at men's underwear had to be ok, right? I might want to buy some one day. I was going to be sexy like that.

Wet dreams began in 5th grade. Her name was Kristy, and because my first little squirt was about her, I knew that meant we were supposed to get married. I wrote her a love note, just explaining how lonely I was on the playground and asking her to "go with" me. (that's what we called it, "going with", not that we ever went anywhere) She didn't want to go with me. End of that. I did up going with her best friend. We sat together on the bus and held hands on a 6th grade field trip to the Greenbank Observatory. She wanted me to kiss her. That did not happen.

At the end of 6th grade, I started going with another girl, Nancy. She really liked me and although I agreed to "going with" her I had no feelings for her at all. I think I was afraid she would beat me up. I prayed she would move away. I also prayed that a guy friend of mine, who was not a "righteous" influence in my life, would move away. They both did. I kept in contact with Nancy. Even though I didn't like her, it was good to have someone to talk to at times. We would write letters and occasionally talk on the phone. After having a really bad day of being called queer or queer bait one too many times, I wrote Nancy a letter. I was shaking so bad when I wrote it. I told her about what everyone was calling me and how maybe there was some truth to it. Could I be gay? I was so hesitant to send the letter. What would she think? A couple days after I sent it, I got a phone call. It was Nancy and we just started chatting like normal. After about 10 minutes, I asked if she got the letter. Yes, she had. Silence. I asked what she thought about what I said. (I could not bring myself to say the words out loud). She said, very firmly, CLARK, you are NOT gay. Oh, the joy and rapture I felt. I was not gay. I was so glad that someone could tell me that. She said if those boys did not stop picking on me and saying those things, she was going to come back and kick their ass. I had doubt that she could.