Brett

I was thinking about Brett. Brett is one of two skaters I had over my apartment not too long ago. I had seen their add on craigslist - young guys, Brett is 18. There add was quite the same as that ratty kid you see on the street corner at 3AM trying to get picked up, but not quite sure how to approach a john. Something I'm sad to say I know something about, but not exactly from that angle - meaning I've neither been in that exact situation, though one quite close. Actually quite a few situations close and perhaps worse.

The point is their stipulation "Generous guys BIG +" was kind of a tip off, so I sent them a message. Now it should be said that I go to craigslist to look at the pictures - most of which are revolting, and to thank god that I have managed to avoid that scene - though again one would say I've been in worse scenes than that, which I suppose is true.

So I messaged Brett. Emailed him, sent him my phone number and said I was willing to be generous - in the neighborhood of $100.

Now I will also fully admit that such a deal tempted me extremely, I'm not claiming utterly honorable intentions, but before they arrived the next day I had come to the idea that I would give them the $100 and send them on their way.

They arrived, Brett was alright looking, my type more or less. His friend, well you know when you were a little kid and you saw an awesome toy on TV and just had to have it - got it and found it to be poorly made, cheap, ugly, and not worth much... well ya... harsh but true.

Once in my apartment they were both nervous. I too was shaking a bit, but for different reasons. I saw before me two youths who were walking a very fine line which once crossed can be quite destructive to one's soul.

I had The Departed on the TV, which is a bit of a reminder of home for me, Boston being oh so close to my home, and also being the home of my best friend.

They took up position on the couch and I say across from them. I quite liked Brett, I'll admit that, and I was tempted - I knew that I could do just about anything right then and it would be mine to do. Thats a powerful feeling, one that I at a time enjoyed - back when I was cold hearted - back when I was dead to the world around me, a long time ago it seems.

We talked, as we talked it came to light - not surprisingly - that they'd never done anything like this before. That they were just trying to get back to California, and they were out of money. Now these kids had been around, but not around the block. The 80s term was to "have seen the elephant" they hadn't seen the elephant. I've seen the elephant. 

As we spoke I knew I didn't want to happen to them so many of the things that could. They'd been careful - set up a separate email account, used a pre-paid cell. But they were still sitting in my apartment, alone in a strangers apartment, someone they met off craigslist, and they were there for money, which meant that I had an upper hand. 

If you don't know better, this kid Brett could pull down $600 for less than he thought he was going to get $100 for. And he didn't know better? How could he? He's innocent, and he needs the money. That makes things much worse, for him. His companion looked more the type who will end up paying for it in a few years himself, not worth a nickel to anybody. I do sound harsh, but I know.

So we talked. I explained without any detail that I'd been around. It pained me to see these youths sitting there trying to look calm. It pained me more to see that Brett had a solid resemblance to a boy I once knew who fell over the edge. A friend if you will. 

I asked them how much they needed to get home. I was given the number $600 in a somewhat dejected way. My generous $100 would have them seeing at least a few more guys, and I am quite sure that they'd have gotten themselves fucked up. It's not hard to hurt a kid. It's really quite easy. 18 makes you legally an adult. I don't give a shit, these were kids. 

I asked if they got the $600 if they would be posting any more craigslist adds. No. No more stranger's apartments? No. Good. I told them to stay - pointed when I did it - and went back and got the $600. I can't afford it, and I should be kicking myself. I should be. 

But I'm not. 

The things I have seen. The things I have done, been asked to do, been forced to do, that I have done because at some point I was just so numb... I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. I can say with utter truth, truth that you can't share unless you've had a loaded gun at your head, that I would die for my friends. I don't think I'd die for Brett, but $600 is a small price to pay at the chance of saving an kid's innocence. You can give things away, innocence, but having it taken from you...

The chance that they could have gone next to some stranger's apartment and gotten spooked, said No, and been pushed into something anyways, very likely. 

So I put an end to it. We agreed to meet again, and I emailed Brett that night and said No, because to be frank I don't trust myself to do the right thing twice.

Their being here effected me considerably. Brought back a lot of stuff I have neatly tucked away, on top of the stuff I can't tuck away no matter how hard I try. 

I knew they were safe with me because I have been unable to be with a guy in any regards in 10 years. I'm still bisexual, for sure, but there is so much pain. Too much pain. 

As to women. It's slightly different, but not really. I can be with a woman if I'm paid for it. If its business then I can do it. There's no pleasure in it, it's like flipping burgers at Friendly's. But I can do it, and do from time to time, did a lot back home, because the money was excellent and I tend to be too sick to hold a job. 

But no relationships. No touch, with anybody if there's a chance that it could be more. It has taken me the last 5 years to be able to shake hands with people without my entire body wanting to curl up into a ball. It took my father's death to be able to hug my family and the occasional friend again. 

When you want more than anything to not grow old alone, to be able to cuddle, or just sit close to someone, and yet you are terrified beyond words at the very idea of it. 

When the few people who know everything look at me its in wonder that I'm still alive, that I still function (more or less) and I have a hard time accepting that, accepting the "you're so strong" and all that. Because most nights when I lay awake like I am right now in fear of closing my eyes, I just wish it was over. 

That's why $600 is nothing. To prevent ANY of this, the chance to, is priceless.

I felt bad, Cam and Zero - two of my closer friends down here asked "Who were they" and I told them friends of friends I used to work with. It's not really a lie, because it's true.

There is a deception there, I will tell anyone I'm not gay. Because I'm not. No one here knows me well enough to know the correct question is "Are you straight". 

I had to be careful when I first moved here, careful about who knew what, and nobody knows that I know of, unless they read here. I haven't had to say to a friend "I'm Bi" in 7 years, I'm a bit out of practice and it terrifies me again that I might have to repeat the process at some point with those I care about down here.