History: Theo

 Today, I am back to writing about my personal history.   We had gotten up to March of 1977.  I ended last time with me being back in bed with Mike and getting fucked, while Theo, the man I really wanted, was down the hall with my brother.  My journal quote: “I really do care about Mike, but just can’t make the commitment he wants.  I feel like myself so much more around Nancy or Theo…  I don’t know where I’m headed.”

My solution was to avoid it.  I just stopped having sex—and didn’t really look for it.  I was in a show at school that showcased me very nicely.  Throwing myself into the production was a great distraction from sex.  On free nights, I still occasionally joined my brother at the Rubaiyat, the dance bar.  I just wasn’t going home with anyone.

But I heard all-about my brother’s drama.  He was in love again.  And not with Theo.  Mark was a short, good-looking guy.  He had the kind of hairy chest I envied.  His once blond hair was darkening.  He must have been maybe 25.  A nice guy.  My brother wanted to move him into my Grandparent’s house, where he was still living with Mike, (who he called irresponsible and who was getting on his nerves.)  Well, Mike pitched a fit.  He was angry enough to try to steal some of my grandmother’s china.  My brother caught him—and that, as they say, was that.  Mike moved out and Mark moved in—and everyone was happier.

The semester ended and I was in a great place academically.  I also had my summer job back at Greenfield Village.  This year I was working occasionally as a tinsmith, but more often I was taking tintypes of the visitors.  I crushed on one of my co-workers—a very hairy young man with a goofy smile—but we were good friends, not bed mates.  I did ask my brother for a couple of his explicit sex magazines.  He happily lent them to me so I had relief back home for the summer.

As if I didn’t have enough to do, I put together a performance for my church using friends from my high school drama department.  It threw we into daily contact with Theo.  There was angst occasionally, but we were settling down to be ‘just friends.’  The performance went well—and both of us went right into a community theatre production.  It was being directed by our beloved high school drama director—so there was even more time spent together.  This time, I caused the angst, by crushing heavily on a guy from another school.  Theo was not pleased.  Suddenly my attention was elsewhere.  Nothing came of the crush—he was straight and I knew it—but Theo was often unhappy that I was no longer pining for him.

After this production closed, I went with my brother and his crowd on a couple of different bar crawls in Detroit. One time we started at Tiffany’s and went on to the Woodward.  I went home tired, not horny.  Another time we started at a new bar, 5 West. On the outside, it looked like an old White Castle, but it was nice enough inside with blond wood paneling, mirrors—and cheap drinks.  There was even a small dance floor.  We went on to Menjo’s—and there was the construction worker who had given me his number.  How I wish I had pulled him into the men’s room and sucked him off—but, of course, I just nodded to him and that was that. 

A more interesting time at a disco was Theo and I joining my brother and his new lover, Mark (and a few others) at the Rubaiyat.  Theo was anxious—but Mark totally won him over.  They talked and danced for hours.

Two days later, after a leisurely picnic with Theo, he asked if I wanted to spend the night as his parents were out of time.  I write that “we were both relaxed, caring and ourselves.  It was so nice.”  If memory serves, it was an oral evening…me doing the work as Theo hated sucking cock.  Was this brought on by his realizing my brother was no longer an option?

After another trip to the Ann Arbor disco, my brother took me back to the Flame, the neighborhood bar.  There was Mike with his new lover, Tom.  A good man had really changed Mike.  It was great to see him happy at last.

As summer wound down, Theo and I went on a second trip to Stratford Ontario.  We saw seven shows.  Maggie Smith was back for her second season there.  Her performance in Richard III was great. The Guardsman, a light comedy from the 1920’s, showed off everything she was famous for—being able to twist an unfunny sentence by adding the slightest pause in just the right place—sending the audience into gales of laughter.  And her Rosalind in As You Like It was, well, perfect.  It was the most romantic production I have ever witnessed.  (So good, I have chosen to never see the play again.)

We both came home to our campsite from As You Like It with our heads in the clouds.  I didn’t want to talk about it—I wanted to revel in it.  We each took a walk, going in separate directions.  I went to the small lake.  I walked around it, with the moonlight dappling the water, and just tried to imagine myself in a production so splendid.  I finally sat in the lifeguard’s chair and watched the slight breeze ripple over the water as I sang some Cole Porter under my breath…

We eventually met up, cracked open a bottle of wine and talked about the production.  Theo, slightly tipsy, asked me to fuck him.  A tent and sleeping bags are not my favorite way to have anal sex, but we were horny.  It seemed to make him happy—though I was very aware that likely the last man up his ass was my highly experienced brother.  I tried to bury that as I kept working my way into his tight hole…

It was the last time Theo and I had sex.  We really did shift to friends.  He was headed to the same university, on the same scholarship that I also had.  For better or worse, we became roommates.  But my junior year was going to be very different than the first two.  I would meet the man I’d spend half my life with…