...as a French Horn

It all started, innocently enough, with a hypothetical question -- if you could go back to your high school years, would you change anything?

I was having a drink with a friend from high school who was visiting in this watering hole called Bar None at the Marriott here in Singapore. I've been knocking back beers since dinner time at Newton Circus and had a little buzz. Since the common topic which we could discuss was high school and since high school feels pretty much like two life times compressed in four years, we had a wealth of material to get us through the night.

So, he asked me, would I change anything? Of course I said yes. Our high school was coed and the thing I would do which I didn't all those years back was to date this girl named Annette. Annette and I were thick as thieves in freshman and sophomore year. She was nuts. I knew I could tell her all my juvenile worries and apprehensions and she would find a way and the time to..laugh at my sorry ass. Annette had this raspy smoker's voice which was so not unlike Demi Moore's or Chuchi. Things started going downhill for us during junior year, when a classmate revealed to me in confidence that she saw Annette's scribblings on the back pages of her notebook about how she was in love with me. He said that line after line was a declaration of love. Annette even wrote how her name would like with my last name appended to it. I was taken aback, sure, but since this class mate was a piece of shit asshole I didn't believe him. However, all it takes was that grain of information to flourish and thrive in my mind like mushroom kept in the dark and fertilized with shit, and very soon I felt uncomfortable being alone with Annette. Looking back now, what I thought then was just indifference to her feelings borne of unrequited emotions was actually the lack of confidence on my part to meet what her romantic notions and expectations were for me. I know now that I was absolutely afraid of dropping the ball with her. That she would not love me anymore if I screw up just one time. So, I turned my back on what would have been, I think, the love of my young life because I was afraid of fucking up. With this went my friendship with Annette and as a result we barely spoke during senior year.

I told my friend that if I could do it all over again I would give myself and Annette a chance. And that was that. Your turn, I said.

"Do you really want to know?" he said. His eyes were on me like laser beams were shooting out of them.

Uh-oh. When someone asks you that, you don't really want to know, do you?

"Yeah," I said but it sounded more like a question than a monosyballic statement.

"Do you think you can take it?"

Then I knew he was going to say what he was going to say.

"I would have come out back then. The sooner, the better for me. I know that now."

"Um."

"Even then I knew I was gay but I just kept denying it."

"Um."

"When I had my first boyfriend, it wasn't nearly as complete an experience because I had to keep it secret."

"Um."

"But let me tell you. I'm gay. I love being gay. I love being with.."

"Whoa, stop right there," I said. "Really, I believe you. I kinda had an inkling, you know. Actually we all had our suspicions (referring to myself and our other friends) and would make jokes at your expense when you had your back turned, of course. But you don't have to get into detail on what you do with your boyfriends. You're gay. I know. That's enough info for me."

"Are you surprised?"

"It'd be incorrect to say I was but not entirely accurate to say that I wasn't. So all those times we were at strip bars and beer houses, these meant nothing to you?"

"Of course I feel something when I'm alone with a girl but the feeling would last for a moment only. When I think about growing old with someone, it'd be a guy."

"Um."

"So let's just say (I started thinking of the hottest chick I know) Aubrey Miles couldn't convince you to play with our team again?"

"No but Troy Montero can more than convince me to continue playing with mine."

Enough said.