From the time I was 14, I could make the boys in my class question what it meant to be straight. Sleepover bump in the nights, after-school 'Im-not-gay-but-I-want-to-try-it-for-kicks', locker room sessions that would cause an old pedophile to die of cardiac arrests--you name it, I've probably done it and I might be responsible for the gayification of half the men in my northeastern metropolis.
I hail from the upper east side and that's also where I went to school. I can't say I know why I did what I did, but I think I used sex to fill the void in my heart (or the hole in my butt sometimes; so what? I'm blunt)... I think I did it in preparation for the loneliness that would manifest later.
Even though I'm in college, I still make high school boys jizz their pants. The college boys are no better. I think I'm meant to be liked, but not loved.
Even out here in Iowa, straight doesn't mean narrow. And I think that's God teasing me, telling me that He would rather make normally homophobic boys love my flesh, but hate my soul. Sigh.