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Epilogue - Growing up, coming out, getting wet

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Posted by Patrick on January 02, 2023 at 01:40:54

A couple people have asked me to share what ended up happening with me and Willy. So I'll share this epilogue to the story. I apologize if it sounds corny - I'm not the most romantic person.

Today, with the benefit of being older and at least a little bit wiser, I fully believe that Willy and I were compatible, and if it wasn't for geography (i.e., the fact that we lived on different continents), I truly think that we could have gone the distance and lived happily ever after, together. Alas, that wasn't to be. I don't believe that any person has only one other soul-mate in the world. And, today, both Willy and I are living happily ever after with our own partners, whom we love very much.

After Willy went back home, I had the typical teenage reaction to my first relationship being over. I was convinced I'd never meet anyone like Willy ever again, that I'd just be miserable my whole life. I'd dream about reuniting with Willy, but it quickly became apparent that just wasn't in the cards, for either one of us. My untreated depression and anxiety wasn't helping. With Willy, it felt so easy and natural to connect with him. Once he'd left, though, I struggled enormously to have the courage to even talk to someone, much less move things forward to a date, much less any kind of remotely sexual encounter. My parents pushed me to "go meet a nice guy," and whenever I'd make the mistake of admitting I was nervous, didn't know what to do, or screwed up a young relationship, they'd tease and even berate me. It put me into a very dark place. Not to mention, the gay dating scene in my small town was rather limited.

Willy and I did stay in touch, and became friends, as we promised each other. First, we used AIM, then Facebook, and now WhatsApp. As rough a time as I was having in high school, Willy was having his own issues. I guess his homophobic parents caught him in the act with another guy, which prompted his dad to kick him out of the house. He dropped out of school, and his so-called friends in whatever small town he was living in ostracized him. I guess he bounced around a bit between friends and distant relatives, then landed in the city of Frankfurt, where he was able to finish school, and land a good job with a financial firm. He also has had a steady relationship with his current partner, Franz, for several years now. Franz seems absolutely wonderful and they both seem quite happy.

I've never had another partner who was interested in swimming fully clothed. That was unique between me and Willy. I actually did briefly date a guy with a feet kink like Willy had. With Willy, I thought it was weird but kind of cute and I'd come to like it. I had a more negative reaction with this other guy, though, and (for this and for several other reasons) that relationship didn't last long.

By the time I was in college, my life was starting to get better. To start with, for the first time, I got professional treatment for depression and anxiety, which has made a huge difference for my mental health. Also, the dating pool got bigger, and I have been with my partner Alex for 6 years now, and we love each other very much. I've been honest with Alex about all of my past relationships, and have talked about Willy, and how that relationship was very important to me at a very dark time in my life. I explained that I stay in touch with Willy, and we are friends - but only friends, and nothing more than that. Now, I love Alex, and if he ever tells me I need to cut off contact with Willy, I'd do it. But, the truth right now is, we ARE friends, and JUST friends. A few years ago, all four of us, me and Alex and Willy and Franz, did a video chat and had a virtual happy hour, and we seemed to all enjoy getting to know each other.

A few years ago - before COVID - Willy texted me. His company was sending him to the USA for a conference, and he and Franz were going to take some vacation time afterwards. Would Alex and I like to meet up with them? I talked to Alex about this, and he was suspicious at first - and I completely understand why he would be. In fact, I was uneasy myself. Willy for the past several years had been a good friend, but also mostly a pen-pal. I wasn't sure what might be stirred up if we'd see each other in person. The last thing I wanted was to screw up my relationship with Alex, or see Willy and Franz's relationship strained, or ruin my friendship with Willy. We spent a few weeks - all four of us - having some honest conversations, and setting some boundaries. We agreed that none of us were interested in an "open relationship," this would be strictly a visit between friends. Ultimately, we decided to try it, and we booked an AirBNB near the beach, and soon enough Alex and I were on a flight to California for a long weekend. (One of the boundaries that Alex and I discussed was that any swimming or water activities would occur in normal swimwear, and not clothes. So, sadly for the readers of this forum, there won't be any wetlook in this epilogue.)

Alex and I got to the AirBNB first, and anxiously waited for Willy and Franz to arrive. When they did, my nervousness only increased. I was, of course, thrilled to see Willy again in person - his hair was cut a bit shorter than I remembered, and he bulked up a bit, but had the exact same face and eyes. And his English was much better - you'd think he was an American, he barely had any trace of an accent. After introductions, we decided to go out for dinner. Everyone was on edge, and I think we all needed a drink. Things loosened up during dinner, and we all realized that we were happy for each other, not looking to wreck each other's relationships, and on top of that, we all actually liked each other and enjoyed spending time together.

We went to the beach the next morning, but due to bad weather, only got to enjoy for it a couple hours before rain and storms started. So, we improvised, did some tourist stuff. Our AirBNB had an outdoor pool and hot tub and an awning covering the pool and patio, so we were able to enjoy those without being bothered by the rain. We had another nice dinner that night, with probably too much alcohol.

The next morning I'd woken up early, and padded into the kitchen in search of coffee and Tylenol for my headache. Willy was sitting alone at the kitchen table, nursing his own cup of coffee. We smiled and sat across from each other. "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Yes, its great to see you and meet Alex." "And Franz?" "He thinks you and Alex are perfect for each other." "He seems wonderful, you must feel very lucky to be with him." "He is, and I am." I was beating around the bush a bit, and asked him, "Can I tell you something I've never told you before?" Willy nodded, looking a bit concerned. Over the years of our friendship, there's very little that I haven't told him before. I went on, "that summer when we first met. And the couple years after that. I was... not in a good spot, with my mental health. I had untreated depression, anxiety, I had no self esteem. I was disgusted with myself, and was convinced that it was my fault that I was so miserable." Willy nodded kindly, I'd shared this with him before. Now I shared what up until now had been a secret: "There were some days - actually, a lot of days, where I was suicidal. I'd put... a lot of thought into it. I had a bunch of pills that I pulled out the trash that my parents and other people had thrown away. I had a kitchen knife in my bedroom. I... was ready." Willy paled a bit, but I went on. "But I'd think about you. Or I'd text you and just say anything, and that was enough. I finally threw those pills away. If it wasn't for you..." I trailed off, and smiled at him. "I wish you would have told me that, Patrick," Willy whispered. Then he dropped his own bombshell. "After my parents threw me out, I think I told you that I had moved in with a cousin or something. I lied about that. None of my family wanted anything to do with me. I'd went to Berlin. Maybe you've heard the stories of the kinds of trouble that young gay boys could get into there?" I hadn't heard those stories, but as Willy continued talking, I got a pretty good idea. Willy went on, "I was sleeping on park benches, or in the subway stations. If I went to the authorities for help, they'd send me back to my parents. The fact that my parents wouldn't take me back didn't matter to the police." He paused, and half-laughed, "We Germans aren't very creative problem solvers, I guess. Now, of course, there were ways that I could sleep in doors, in a real bed. But, of course, I had to... I think you Americans would say that I had to 'pay my own way.'" I realized what he meant. "Some of the men were violent. I got bruises, welts. The ones who weren't violent were still creeps. This went on... longer than I'd have liked. I couldn't find a real job, Berlin back then was not what it is today. I knew I had to get out, and get to western Germany. Yes, today its all one country, but its still different, the west and the east. I'd stolen some money, and bought a train ticket to Frankfurt, because that was as far as I could afford to go." We both had tears running down our faces, and Willy's normally-bright and beautiful eyes were dark, his mind was clearly somewhere else, somewhere very, very ugly. My mind had wandered to a different place, too. I was thinking back to that summer we met, sitting on the edge of the dock at the summer camp lake, Willy playing footsie with me as we dunked our feet in the water. And those times in the shower house, and how beautiful he was and how innocent we were. Back in the present moment, I said, "Willy, if you'd have told me what was happening, I could have helped. My parents would have gotten you a plane ticket, you could have lived with us. My parents have their own issues, but it would have been better than what you lived through." Willy smiled, "You know, I did think that. But even if your parents agreed, and even if I could have afforded it, there was a practical problem: my father had stolen my passport from me." I shook my head. "But there wasn't, like, social services, or something that could have helped?" Willy laughed cynically. "The official position of the Government of Germany was that I was nothing more than a disobedient child, and if I wanted to go anywhere, it would only be back to my parent's house." I shook my head, incredulous to hear his story. "But, Patrick, why I tell you this..." I noticed that Willy still had the same habit he had from when he was younger - his German accent and grammar would come through when he was emotional. "Those days, when they were real bad, I'd find a computer. I have to go to the library and wait in line, then they'd give me 20 minutes that I could use the internet. I'd send you the instant message. And I knew that, no matter what, you would never judge me. You'd never criticize. You'd never demand anything. The only thing, Patrick, the ONLY thing that you ever did... was love me."

I reeled back. All these years, I'd danced around telling Willy "I love you." When we met, I knew that we were too young. As time went on, and we only communicated with instant messaging and email, I didn't know whether what I was feeling was 'love.' But Willy knew. "I did love you," I blurted out before I could think about it. "I still do. I love you." There, the cat was out of the bag, and I felt like I was a teenager again, my heart beating out of my chest. I knew I was on very dangerous ground here. Willy smiled, "I have loved you since we met, Patrick, and I love you today." I said nothing. "And I am so grateful that we both... survived what we did. And I love that you are with Alex and you are happy, and that I am happy with Franz. And that we are all here together... ugh, in English, I can't think of how to say.... I am happy that we are being happy." I breathed a sigh of relief. Despite some of the beauty of Willy's words getting lost in translation between German and English, I was relieved that we seemed to share the same understanding of our relationship today. And we hadn't violated any of the boundaries that we'd agreed to for this risky trip together.

We'd both been sobbing, and I was terrified that Franz or Alex would walk in. We collected ourselves, and I got up to refill my coffee. And not a second too soon - Franz walked in and saw that both of us were upset. "Ist alles in Ordnung?" he asked, looking concerned (his English was not as good as Willy's.) Willy answered him in German, and he took a seat next to Willy, and they embraced. I poured Franz a cup of coffee and silently left it in front of him, then poured one for Alex, and carried it back to our bedroom. Alex was just waking up, and groggily thanked me for the coffee, which I set down on the night table next to him, then climbed in bed and laid down next to him. Alex realized I'd been crying, and asked what was wrong. I explained that I'd been talking to Willy about our teenage years. "I told him about the pills, and the knife." Alex nodded, "I'd thought you'd already told him that." "No," I shook my head. "I've only ever told you that." Alex looked concerned, and I continued, "And Willy had some stories of his own to share, that I didn't know about." I shivered, and Alex embraced me. "Are you OK? Is Willy OK?" he asked. I nodded. "It was just kind of a heavy conversation to start the day with." Alex nodded. I was relieved to see that his face, so far, was showing concern, and not anger or suspicion. But, I had one more big question for him.

Alex leaned in for a kiss, but I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Wait," I said, "I need to ask you something." Alex frowned. "Love... Alex, I love you. I'd do anything for you. You're the only person that I love this way." Alex nodded, silently, waiting for me to continue. "When I met Willy... you know, that was at a very dark time in my life. And it was for him too. And, at that time and place, we only knew each other. And we.. we did, we loved each other. And without that... Please, I'm not being melodramatic, but without that, I'm not sure we would have survived. At least, I wouldn't have." I'll admit, I was crying now. "Sorry, I don't know what my question actually is..." I trailed off. I was scared, because I couldn't quite read the expression on Alex's face. He didn't seem to be hurt, or angry, but he was silent, thinking. Finally, he spoke. "I don't know what you're asking. But I think the answer is, I believe that you can love a friend, as a friend. Especially a friend who shared what you two have shared. Its just different from how you love your partner. Or how you love your parents. Its just a different kind of love."

I felt like a huge weight was taken off my body, and I breathed a massive sigh of relief. "I love you, so much, Alex," I said, as we embraced and kissed.

THE END (for real this time!)

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