"I Just don't fit"

                                                    I Just Don’t Fit

                                                                                         Marty Livingston

      “I just don’t belong anywhere,” Tim said.  “Even my wanting to talk to you like this is something real guys don’t do.”

      “I like talking to you,” Richie interrupted leaning forward.

      “I know that.  I really like talking to you too, but-“

        “But I’m gay.  Is that it?  I’m gay so I’m no a real guy.  I don’t count,” Richie interrupted again. 

        “That’s not it. Damn it.  Let me get a thought on the table.  Let me finish!”

            “Okay, I’ll slow down and let you finish, but you hurt my feelings not counting me.”

          “That’s what I love about how we are together Richie.  We can tell each other when we get hurt.  I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to devalue you.  I just don’t know where I fit.  I’m no like the guys on the basketball team.  They just want to talk about conquests or sports.  I have to act tough with them.  I don’t even fool around the way they do.  In the locker room they flick a towel at each other’s balls and think it’s fun.  I get mad.”

      Richie nodded and continued to listen.

      Tim went on as his voice began to crack.  “Does my being different and so sensitive man that I’m gay?  Does it make me a momma’s boy?  I always used to like hanging around home when my mother was there.  I loved to talk with her about books I read and things like that.  I like spending time with girls.  Other guys seem to be in a hurry to get the girl to bed.  I like to talk with them.  Sometimes they seem impatient for me to get on with making out.  It’s not that I don’t want to do that.”

      Tim’s inner stage flashed a movie at this point.  It showed in a matter of seconds, but seemed much longer to Tim.  He saw himself as a child.  “I don’t want to go out and play in the snow!  I don’t want to play with those kids at all.  I want to stay home with you Mommy.  Read to me!  Please read to me!”

      “Not now Timmy.  It’s important for you to play with other boys, to make friends.  Snow is fun, all the boys love it.”

        “I don’t want to go out.  It’s cold and the kids don’t like me.  They throw snow at me and I get all tight inside.  They think it’s funny.  I don’t.  I want to smash them, knock them down and wash their faces with the snow.”

          “You have to go out and stay outside for at least a half hour.  Only sissy’s stay home with their mommy.  Boys go our and throw snowballs, build fortresses.”

          “I want to stay inside near you, or at least to stay in and read, or play with my trains.”

          “No Timmy, at least a half hour, then maybe you can play in the basement with your trains.  After you play in the snow, then you can bring a friend in to play.  But first go out for at least thirty minutes.  That’s reasonable isn’t it?”

            “I guess so,” Timmy said out loud.  To himself, he thought, I hate the snow.  I’m not a sissy.  I’ll show you!  I’ll go ouot and be mean.  No one will dare call me a sissy.

            Pushing Timmy out the door, his mother adds, “I’m so glad that you are reasonable.  You don’t need to stay with mommy all the time.  Only sissy’s stay inside with their mommies.”

          “Okay Mommy, I’ll go play outside,” Timmy says.  To himself he adds, But it won’t be any fun.

          Richie listened long and well.  After Tim paused for his inner movie, Richie asked, “Are you attracted to me?  I feel tender and affectionate towards you.  I also find you very attractive:”

        Tim tightened a bit.  “I’m drawn to you.  I would really like to hug you more, but I don’t think that I want to make out or anything like that. I’m confused.  My head is spinning.  Again, I don’t quite fit, even with you, but I’m glad that we can talk.  I hope you won’t push me away now.  I’m not sure who I am or where I belong.  Whew, I’m glad that I got that all out.”