07-10-2025, 01:00 PM
Man, I felt awful. Back pain without end, only the damn painkillers made my life bearable.
So, pills in, into the shower, quickly two coffees and out of the house at six o'clock, so that I could get to the nearest big city by car on time.
It takes at least half an hour to drive to this terrible workplace.
I had been working in a hospital pharmacy for a good two years, and I had expected so much from it.
Finally public service, finally regular working hours, good social benefits, no more hassle with a boss who is also the salary payer and of course always wants to squeeze the most out of you...
At the time, I thought, this is your chance, start a new life with a new job.
Unfortunately, that didn't work out.
At some point, my nice colleagues and the boss started ganging up against me. At first, it was only small things that they found fault with me for, but I kept looking for the mistakes in myself over and over again, convincing myself that I had to pull myself together... get better.
Far from it. I was being bullied mercilessly, which I realized in a flash at some point.
Too late. I was a victim. I was already mentally and physically broken and it was easy to foist various things on me, to insinuate that I was a fag, would only just about manage to pass the exams, so that in the end my GP took me out of circulation to prevent anything worse from happening.
I am still grateful to him today, because they stopped at nothing.
Eight weeks of psychosomatic rehabilitation, antidepressants, group and individual therapy broke down the wall I had built up over many years, gave me the courage to finally stand by myself and to focus only on myself and my well-being for the time being.
All of this helped me to get rid of my pain completely.
Ok. I always knew it, I was gay. I now had to radically change something in and about my life, otherwise I would perish.
I began to accept myself as I should have done when I was 20.
That was, as I saw it at the time, my last chance.
To some extent I became selfish, that's how I felt at the time.
So I sat down at the computer, did a bit of surfing to see what gay communities were out there, and registered with the blue pages.
I had to do it all secretly, because I had a girlfriend...
Yes, I had had a girlfriend for many years.
We had both cut ourselves off from each other a bit over the long period of time, but each of us was there for the other.
I didn't find that particularly strange, it was no different with my homophobic parents.
For decades, I had seen every day how people could live past each other.
They had almost perfected this over many years of marriage.
The fact that she had been playing role-playing games online for hours on end until late into the night for a good year now was just the way it was. I thought it was normal to a certain extent.
Later, I would think differently.
After rehab, I was on sick leave for a while.
Burnout...
Back to the bullies? No! Look for a new job? Get well first.
I was actually well past the gay sell-by date, but maybe that's why I still had some brain in my skull to realize relatively quickly... this is only about sex.
Sure, I wanted to, but I didn't want to immediately.
I wanted to meet someone who understood me, shared my interests and with whom I wanted to do more at some point when I was ready.
It was sobering.
I sat in front of the computer for three months, looking at great washboard abs, great pectoral muscles and, of course, the rest that I could see thanks to my Plus account.
Going out on the scene? I might have been recognized...
As they say, at 38 I was still a perfect virgin and a closet case, and of course I was in the closet.
A quickie? A quick date to get to know each other? Nah. Maybe I'll meet someone by chance while shopping?
So the days went by, and I was about to unsubscribe when someone without a picture in their profile messaged me.
I don't know why, but we liked each other immediately.
He was interested in ME?
So two weeks went by easily.
Every evening I waited for him to come online.
I only noticed one thing:
He asked me from front to back.
At some point I turned the tables, laughed and also at some point we exchanged our facepics.
Mhmmm, I thought to myself. He looks very gay. Wait? What does a gay guy look like? It's me, isn't it? Shouldn't I be more tolerant?
At some point we exchanged numbers and talked on the phone for hours every evening until we decided to meet up.
First date? Canceled by him.
Second date? Also canceled.
I was so disappointed that I didn't want to give him another chance... I let him wait for a few days.
So it finally came to a meeting on the third time, although I didn't really expect anything anymore.
I saw him coming from afar, tall, slim, athletic, blond and he made no secret of it... everyone could see it on his face... he was gay, full stop, exclamation mark.
Mhhhmmm, what now? I could still leave quickly, he probably hasn't spotted me yet.
Oh, what the hell, if you leave now, you'll never know, so go for it, was my thought.
You can always leave later...
We went to a gay café, where we were both asked for coffee directly by the counter fag... and... already fucked?
I almost sank into the comfortable plush armchair and, I think, was as red as one could possibly be.
He was no different. Ok, I thought, if he's blushing too, he can't be that hard-boiled.
Out, everyone knows and sees it and still a bit shy.
My knees were shaking... pay up, get out of here, eat something first, but not there anymore.
So off to the next bakery, where we also met people who stared at me like I was the seventh wonder of the world.
Apparently he was known everywhere, but that was clear, he had lived here for a long time.
Nowhere could you find peace and quiet, I thought to myself, but didn't say anything, just watched him closely the whole time.
He seemed to enjoy being seen with me, like a parade hete, which I wanted to portray at the time and could also portray credibly.
My whole brain was somehow glued together, as if I had eaten a whole jar of Nutella...
Was that love somehow? Despite, or maybe because of his presence and the strange situation, I no longer felt in control of my senses.
Hmmm, I realized only one thing, I needed to get some fresh air.
Finally get a clear head.
So we walked then as if compelled, trying, almost aimlessly through the city, I bought CDs, we didn't talk much anymore.
I was annoyed that he was always on his cell phone.
But somehow I was fine with that, taking deep breaths, twenty-one, twenty-two.
I couldn't make sense of my feelings at all; my head felt clearer again by now, but I was so nervous.
Ice-cold hands, ice-cold feet, it was February, after all.
I didn't want to wander around this strange city anymore.
So I offered to drive him home. He still lived with his ex, which made me wonder over and over again, why?
You can't live in a shared flat with an ex, can you?
He pulled me out of my ruminations. He seemed to have noticed that something was bothering me a lot.
He thought it would be great if I took him home, so we could spend a few more moments together.
Together?
Was I ready yet?
All right, into the car.
I was so nervous that we didn't talk at all, he just described the way to his, or rather to their shared apartment.
I was just about to leave and forget the whole thing when he asked me in for a coffee.
Okay.
I didn't want sex on the first date, I made that clear, at which he blushed again.
I should have known better...
He presented me with his well-formed butt in his tight camouflage pants because he absolutely had to look for a CD in the closet, and I got all hot.
I sat on the couch like a rabbit caught in the headlights; I couldn't have gotten up even if I'd wanted to... I had a massive bulge in my pants. I didn't want him to see how horny his appearance made me right away.
When he turned around smiling and presented me with his slightly up-slipped shirt his flat, beautiful belly and his belly button piercing, my good intentions were gone like a soap bubble and I started licking his belly and his piercing like a complete idiot...
I didn't know this side of me at all, but I was out of control at that moment.
In no time at all, my trousers were down and my cock in his mouth...
It was the best thing I've felt in a long time.
We couldn't get any further.
Boom, the front door slammed, his ex had to come home any minute.
I couldn't have cared less, but I did.
I said goodbye very quickly, got into the car.
I was shaking all over.
Was this what I wanted?
I had turned off my mind, like the bedside reading lamp.
No. That wasn't me, I didn't want to be like that.
The decent, honorable person who was always there for everyone but himself.
I wanted to be that person again.
I wanted to be in control again. I would not let them out of my hands again.
I don't remember how long it took me to get home.
I didn't sleep a wink that night. I had a heavy, moral hangover.
I had cheated on my longtime girlfriend.
Tell her? Admit that I was weak, that after all these years I was just a fag and I even had sex with a man?
Never in my life. I had to get these crazy ideas out of my head quickly.
Why was I so careless as to give him my cell phone number?
Who could I talk to about this? No, I didn't want to talk to anyone.
I might be betrayed.
The next day he called and asked if we could meet three days later in the evening, he wanted to take me to the movies. He had fallen in love with me and it was his birthday the next day.
At first I didn't know what to say. I was too cowardly to say no.
I was extremely nervous, a nervous wreck.
We arranged to meet at the Macces.
It was a nice evening, we didn't see much of the movie, Benjamin Button, but the other people around us all the more.
We wanted to have sex in the car, I got a cramp, so that was settled.
From now on, we wanted to meet at his place on Monday mornings. He was free every Monday.
The cliché struck again, he was a hairdresser.
It went on like this for a few weeks, we always saw each other on Mondays, had sex in all its variations and grew closer and closer.
We had been a couple since the cinema.
Neither of us wanted to be without the other anymore, it seemed.
I had the rose-colored glasses on by now and I had to admit to myself that I was in love.
We had sex at a friend's house, who let us use her apartment for the weekend.
We went on a short vacation to a friend's house, where I received a call from my girlfriend, who coldly informed me that I didn't need to come home anymore because she had changed the locks.
Until then, I didn't care about anything. I finally wanted to live my life, finally be free, finally be out.
But now, all of a sudden, I was the one who was supposed to be kicked out? Why? Did I know what she was doing when I wasn't at home? She went to Berlin to meet up with her gamer friends there. What had she done there with whom?
I was probably looking for a justification for my behavior to ease my conscience.
No, this had to be settled. It came out that the old neighbor cow had interfered.
I put my cards on the table, told everything completely and honestly.
I had never cheated on her in all these years, I hadn't allowed myself to.
I've always been an honest guy. Me last.
That should be over now and today.
She was hurt, as hurt as one can be when trust has been broken unilaterally.
She didn't yell, she was very sad and I felt like crap.
And now?
I called her parents... I was just one of them, the assholes.
Introduce a friend? Nah, when I came, they weren't there. They didn't want to see me anymore.
So.
What to do?
After about six weeks, we moved into our first shared apartment in a flash.
Was that right? I thought I had no other choice.
I had no relatives except for my parents, I was an only child, alone with all the worries and problems, as I felt at the time.
And I'm not yet working in my old job again.
All of this ultimately forced the situation on me.
But I wanted it that way too.
Now, with all the consequences.
Eventually the situation calmed down.
My parents finally accepted my boyfriend and me as well, I had a new job where I earned well, and met new people.
My old friends liked my outing so much that out of 15 friends, three remained, the rest left relatively quickly, since I was so valued as a friend who was now more there for himself.
Now things slowly started to move forward again.
I liked my life the way it was.
I lived it up like a young gay man, got a blonde dye job, plucked my eyebrows, went to the tanning bed.
I adapted more and more to the gay scene and didn't even realize it.
I thought I was great and everyone else should think I was great too.
But I think I was just going through a phase that every gay man goes through at the beginning.
We went to gay bars, to gay parties, until I got something in my glass for the first time. I didn't even realize that I had lost part of myself.
I had what I wanted, I belonged, I was allowed to perform on the stage of superficialities as a member.
My mother had a severe stroke, from which she recovered well.
My father passed away a short time later.
That really got me down because he had taken my friend to his heart.
My mother was more of a “she-dog”, she saw more of a practicality in getting her perm done at home.
For two years I suffered from it like a pig.
From then on, things didn't go forward, but very slowly downhill.
I had to work a lot, 60-80 hours a week, was only at home by the hour.
I felt like crap.
I had very little free time.
I wanted to spend the little time I had left with him... I wanted to experience everything that was possible in my little free time.
When we didn't go away, there was drinking and partying on Friday and Saturday, Sunday had to be enough to rest.
This went on for another two years, I got no rest anymore.
I also slept worse and worse, I was only trapped at work.
My colleagues just said, you're so exhausted, it's good that you finally have a vacation.
On the first day of my vacation, I fainted at breakfast.
I only heard a distant beeping when I woke up.
I just thought, that's strange, your alarm clock sounds different.
I vaguely perceived white walls, tubes and cables on my entire body. I must have been in the hospital.
At some point, a man in a white coat approached me.
I had a heart attack.
Me, a heart attack?
I finally had my life, the way I had wanted it for a long time.
Now it was all over?
NO, I was still young, I didn't want to die yet.
But I knew it was coming to an end
The last thing I was aware of was a long beeping, I heard myself screaming, then I saw a bright tunnel where my old friends from the past were waving to me happily.
I was happy.......
So, pills in, into the shower, quickly two coffees and out of the house at six o'clock, so that I could get to the nearest big city by car on time.
It takes at least half an hour to drive to this terrible workplace.
I had been working in a hospital pharmacy for a good two years, and I had expected so much from it.
Finally public service, finally regular working hours, good social benefits, no more hassle with a boss who is also the salary payer and of course always wants to squeeze the most out of you...
At the time, I thought, this is your chance, start a new life with a new job.
Unfortunately, that didn't work out.
At some point, my nice colleagues and the boss started ganging up against me. At first, it was only small things that they found fault with me for, but I kept looking for the mistakes in myself over and over again, convincing myself that I had to pull myself together... get better.
Far from it. I was being bullied mercilessly, which I realized in a flash at some point.
Too late. I was a victim. I was already mentally and physically broken and it was easy to foist various things on me, to insinuate that I was a fag, would only just about manage to pass the exams, so that in the end my GP took me out of circulation to prevent anything worse from happening.
I am still grateful to him today, because they stopped at nothing.
Eight weeks of psychosomatic rehabilitation, antidepressants, group and individual therapy broke down the wall I had built up over many years, gave me the courage to finally stand by myself and to focus only on myself and my well-being for the time being.
All of this helped me to get rid of my pain completely.
Ok. I always knew it, I was gay. I now had to radically change something in and about my life, otherwise I would perish.
I began to accept myself as I should have done when I was 20.
That was, as I saw it at the time, my last chance.
To some extent I became selfish, that's how I felt at the time.
So I sat down at the computer, did a bit of surfing to see what gay communities were out there, and registered with the blue pages.
I had to do it all secretly, because I had a girlfriend...
Yes, I had had a girlfriend for many years.
We had both cut ourselves off from each other a bit over the long period of time, but each of us was there for the other.
I didn't find that particularly strange, it was no different with my homophobic parents.
For decades, I had seen every day how people could live past each other.
They had almost perfected this over many years of marriage.
The fact that she had been playing role-playing games online for hours on end until late into the night for a good year now was just the way it was. I thought it was normal to a certain extent.
Later, I would think differently.
After rehab, I was on sick leave for a while.
Burnout...
Back to the bullies? No! Look for a new job? Get well first.
I was actually well past the gay sell-by date, but maybe that's why I still had some brain in my skull to realize relatively quickly... this is only about sex.
Sure, I wanted to, but I didn't want to immediately.
I wanted to meet someone who understood me, shared my interests and with whom I wanted to do more at some point when I was ready.
It was sobering.
I sat in front of the computer for three months, looking at great washboard abs, great pectoral muscles and, of course, the rest that I could see thanks to my Plus account.
Going out on the scene? I might have been recognized...
As they say, at 38 I was still a perfect virgin and a closet case, and of course I was in the closet.
A quickie? A quick date to get to know each other? Nah. Maybe I'll meet someone by chance while shopping?
So the days went by, and I was about to unsubscribe when someone without a picture in their profile messaged me.
I don't know why, but we liked each other immediately.
He was interested in ME?
So two weeks went by easily.
Every evening I waited for him to come online.
I only noticed one thing:
He asked me from front to back.
At some point I turned the tables, laughed and also at some point we exchanged our facepics.
Mhmmm, I thought to myself. He looks very gay. Wait? What does a gay guy look like? It's me, isn't it? Shouldn't I be more tolerant?
At some point we exchanged numbers and talked on the phone for hours every evening until we decided to meet up.
First date? Canceled by him.
Second date? Also canceled.
I was so disappointed that I didn't want to give him another chance... I let him wait for a few days.
So it finally came to a meeting on the third time, although I didn't really expect anything anymore.
I saw him coming from afar, tall, slim, athletic, blond and he made no secret of it... everyone could see it on his face... he was gay, full stop, exclamation mark.
Mhhhmmm, what now? I could still leave quickly, he probably hasn't spotted me yet.
Oh, what the hell, if you leave now, you'll never know, so go for it, was my thought.
You can always leave later...
We went to a gay café, where we were both asked for coffee directly by the counter fag... and... already fucked?
I almost sank into the comfortable plush armchair and, I think, was as red as one could possibly be.
He was no different. Ok, I thought, if he's blushing too, he can't be that hard-boiled.
Out, everyone knows and sees it and still a bit shy.
My knees were shaking... pay up, get out of here, eat something first, but not there anymore.
So off to the next bakery, where we also met people who stared at me like I was the seventh wonder of the world.
Apparently he was known everywhere, but that was clear, he had lived here for a long time.
Nowhere could you find peace and quiet, I thought to myself, but didn't say anything, just watched him closely the whole time.
He seemed to enjoy being seen with me, like a parade hete, which I wanted to portray at the time and could also portray credibly.
My whole brain was somehow glued together, as if I had eaten a whole jar of Nutella...
Was that love somehow? Despite, or maybe because of his presence and the strange situation, I no longer felt in control of my senses.
Hmmm, I realized only one thing, I needed to get some fresh air.
Finally get a clear head.
So we walked then as if compelled, trying, almost aimlessly through the city, I bought CDs, we didn't talk much anymore.
I was annoyed that he was always on his cell phone.
But somehow I was fine with that, taking deep breaths, twenty-one, twenty-two.
I couldn't make sense of my feelings at all; my head felt clearer again by now, but I was so nervous.
Ice-cold hands, ice-cold feet, it was February, after all.
I didn't want to wander around this strange city anymore.
So I offered to drive him home. He still lived with his ex, which made me wonder over and over again, why?
You can't live in a shared flat with an ex, can you?
He pulled me out of my ruminations. He seemed to have noticed that something was bothering me a lot.
He thought it would be great if I took him home, so we could spend a few more moments together.
Together?
Was I ready yet?
All right, into the car.
I was so nervous that we didn't talk at all, he just described the way to his, or rather to their shared apartment.
I was just about to leave and forget the whole thing when he asked me in for a coffee.
Okay.
I didn't want sex on the first date, I made that clear, at which he blushed again.
I should have known better...
He presented me with his well-formed butt in his tight camouflage pants because he absolutely had to look for a CD in the closet, and I got all hot.
I sat on the couch like a rabbit caught in the headlights; I couldn't have gotten up even if I'd wanted to... I had a massive bulge in my pants. I didn't want him to see how horny his appearance made me right away.
When he turned around smiling and presented me with his slightly up-slipped shirt his flat, beautiful belly and his belly button piercing, my good intentions were gone like a soap bubble and I started licking his belly and his piercing like a complete idiot...
I didn't know this side of me at all, but I was out of control at that moment.
In no time at all, my trousers were down and my cock in his mouth...
It was the best thing I've felt in a long time.
We couldn't get any further.
Boom, the front door slammed, his ex had to come home any minute.
I couldn't have cared less, but I did.
I said goodbye very quickly, got into the car.
I was shaking all over.
Was this what I wanted?
I had turned off my mind, like the bedside reading lamp.
No. That wasn't me, I didn't want to be like that.
The decent, honorable person who was always there for everyone but himself.
I wanted to be that person again.
I wanted to be in control again. I would not let them out of my hands again.
I don't remember how long it took me to get home.
I didn't sleep a wink that night. I had a heavy, moral hangover.
I had cheated on my longtime girlfriend.
Tell her? Admit that I was weak, that after all these years I was just a fag and I even had sex with a man?
Never in my life. I had to get these crazy ideas out of my head quickly.
Why was I so careless as to give him my cell phone number?
Who could I talk to about this? No, I didn't want to talk to anyone.
I might be betrayed.
The next day he called and asked if we could meet three days later in the evening, he wanted to take me to the movies. He had fallen in love with me and it was his birthday the next day.
At first I didn't know what to say. I was too cowardly to say no.
I was extremely nervous, a nervous wreck.
We arranged to meet at the Macces.
It was a nice evening, we didn't see much of the movie, Benjamin Button, but the other people around us all the more.
We wanted to have sex in the car, I got a cramp, so that was settled.
From now on, we wanted to meet at his place on Monday mornings. He was free every Monday.
The cliché struck again, he was a hairdresser.
It went on like this for a few weeks, we always saw each other on Mondays, had sex in all its variations and grew closer and closer.
We had been a couple since the cinema.
Neither of us wanted to be without the other anymore, it seemed.
I had the rose-colored glasses on by now and I had to admit to myself that I was in love.
We had sex at a friend's house, who let us use her apartment for the weekend.
We went on a short vacation to a friend's house, where I received a call from my girlfriend, who coldly informed me that I didn't need to come home anymore because she had changed the locks.
Until then, I didn't care about anything. I finally wanted to live my life, finally be free, finally be out.
But now, all of a sudden, I was the one who was supposed to be kicked out? Why? Did I know what she was doing when I wasn't at home? She went to Berlin to meet up with her gamer friends there. What had she done there with whom?
I was probably looking for a justification for my behavior to ease my conscience.
No, this had to be settled. It came out that the old neighbor cow had interfered.
I put my cards on the table, told everything completely and honestly.
I had never cheated on her in all these years, I hadn't allowed myself to.
I've always been an honest guy. Me last.
That should be over now and today.
She was hurt, as hurt as one can be when trust has been broken unilaterally.
She didn't yell, she was very sad and I felt like crap.
And now?
I called her parents... I was just one of them, the assholes.
Introduce a friend? Nah, when I came, they weren't there. They didn't want to see me anymore.
So.
What to do?
After about six weeks, we moved into our first shared apartment in a flash.
Was that right? I thought I had no other choice.
I had no relatives except for my parents, I was an only child, alone with all the worries and problems, as I felt at the time.
And I'm not yet working in my old job again.
All of this ultimately forced the situation on me.
But I wanted it that way too.
Now, with all the consequences.
Eventually the situation calmed down.
My parents finally accepted my boyfriend and me as well, I had a new job where I earned well, and met new people.
My old friends liked my outing so much that out of 15 friends, three remained, the rest left relatively quickly, since I was so valued as a friend who was now more there for himself.
Now things slowly started to move forward again.
I liked my life the way it was.
I lived it up like a young gay man, got a blonde dye job, plucked my eyebrows, went to the tanning bed.
I adapted more and more to the gay scene and didn't even realize it.
I thought I was great and everyone else should think I was great too.
But I think I was just going through a phase that every gay man goes through at the beginning.
We went to gay bars, to gay parties, until I got something in my glass for the first time. I didn't even realize that I had lost part of myself.
I had what I wanted, I belonged, I was allowed to perform on the stage of superficialities as a member.
My mother had a severe stroke, from which she recovered well.
My father passed away a short time later.
That really got me down because he had taken my friend to his heart.
My mother was more of a “she-dog”, she saw more of a practicality in getting her perm done at home.
For two years I suffered from it like a pig.
From then on, things didn't go forward, but very slowly downhill.
I had to work a lot, 60-80 hours a week, was only at home by the hour.
I felt like crap.
I had very little free time.
I wanted to spend the little time I had left with him... I wanted to experience everything that was possible in my little free time.
When we didn't go away, there was drinking and partying on Friday and Saturday, Sunday had to be enough to rest.
This went on for another two years, I got no rest anymore.
I also slept worse and worse, I was only trapped at work.
My colleagues just said, you're so exhausted, it's good that you finally have a vacation.
On the first day of my vacation, I fainted at breakfast.
I only heard a distant beeping when I woke up.
I just thought, that's strange, your alarm clock sounds different.
I vaguely perceived white walls, tubes and cables on my entire body. I must have been in the hospital.
At some point, a man in a white coat approached me.
I had a heart attack.
Me, a heart attack?
I finally had my life, the way I had wanted it for a long time.
Now it was all over?
NO, I was still young, I didn't want to die yet.
But I knew it was coming to an end
The last thing I was aware of was a long beeping, I heard myself screaming, then I saw a bright tunnel where my old friends from the past were waving to me happily.
I was happy.......