08-27-2014, 01:29 PM
My first love...
My first love was probably more aptly called my first crush. His name was Dean Darling, and he was older than I was, which was fourteen at the time. I was lucky because he could have been a guy out to use me and then toss me away in any condition, alive or dead.
Dean Darling (how could you not fall for someone who's last name is Darling, I ask you?) was sweet, talented, and witty to the point that nearly everything he said produced laughter among those of us who knew him. He was gentle with me, and we never did have anything more than a warm closeness. We did not have sex. He drew the line at the age difference between us. But he listened to me like no one else would have. He was the first person I told that I was gay. He held me. And I loved him.
He died of AIDS years after I knew him. I'll miss him, and never forget him.
My first love was probably more aptly called my first crush. His name was Dean Darling, and he was older than I was, which was fourteen at the time. I was lucky because he could have been a guy out to use me and then toss me away in any condition, alive or dead.
Dean Darling (how could you not fall for someone who's last name is Darling, I ask you?) was sweet, talented, and witty to the point that nearly everything he said produced laughter among those of us who knew him. He was gentle with me, and we never did have anything more than a warm closeness. We did not have sex. He drew the line at the age difference between us. But he listened to me like no one else would have. He was the first person I told that I was gay. He held me. And I loved him.
He died of AIDS years after I knew him. I'll miss him, and never forget him.