2025-07-10, 03:55 PM
Shocked, I looked over at Andreas and I felt the anger rising up inside me. Anger directed against myself. How could he? How could I? I was totally distraught. ‘He knows. He knows everything,’ it shot through my mind. I couldn't believe it. Just once I hadn't paid attention, just once. What should I do now? What should I say? Andreas didn't seem to feel very comfortable either. Slowly I noticed how the strength that had given me some control in the last few seconds was fading, and I sat down in my chair, or let's say I fell into my chair. How could I be so careless? My big secret was no longer a secret.
How it all began
For 19 years, I had not wasted a single minute thinking that I might be gay. I had never used that term in my thoughts and when others talked about it, I always felt like they were talking about something I would never relate to in life. It was only today, when I consciously thought about it, that I realised that even earlier on I had always felt more for boys than for girls and that I had always looked at my classmates with great interest when we were in the shower after sports. Even the fact that I liked my best friend Sven much more than a normal friend would be liked, I simply didn't perceive. Maybe I didn't want to, at least I didn't consciously suppress it. I was just the way I was, and of course I would have vehemently denied that I was gay even back then, because I wasn't aware of it myself. I wasn't worried about the fact that I didn't have a girlfriend yet and never looked at girls because it didn't interest me at all. That will come someday – I thought. ‘I'm just a little late, but I'm not the only one, so what the heck.’
I had really made it 19 years without ever thinking about whether I was perhaps a little different than our religion teacher thought was good and only right. 19 years until that week, which I will never forget.
I had just spent 14 days doing civilian service in a home for the disabled when I received an invitation to spend 6 days in Berlin. ‘Invitation’ doesn't sound bad at first, and it was only in the last lines of the letter that it was mentioned that it was a seminar for all new civilian service providers and was not intended for recreation. Well, it doesn't matter, I don't have to pay for it after all, and it's a nice change.
In Berlin, I was staying in a nice double room and was just putting some things from my bag into the cupboard when suddenly HE stood in front of me.
‘Hi, I'm Markus. Are you here for this weird seminar too?"
I looked in the direction from which these words came and suddenly felt as if I had been struck by lightning. I stood there with my mouth open and must have looked very strange, because the sight of Markus had totally confused me. I had never met such a cute boy before and it was actually the first time that I consciously realised what a look from such a sweet guy could do to me, and that made me speechless for the moment. Of course, I hadn't thought of words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ yet, I was just fascinated and didn't really know how to deal with this feeling. These eyes that looked at me so wonderfully had done it to me from the first moment. I don't even remember what I answered Markus, but I think I must have talked a lot of nonsense, because I was much too busy looking at him and listening to his beautiful calm voice.
From the first moment, there was something between us that bound us together. It was as if it had always been that way. Everything Markus said, everything he did, his movements, his gestures, I was simply addicted to it and couldn't get enough of it. He didn't make it difficult for me either, because he didn't leave my side for the entire six days. Whenever possible, he sought my company and already on the first day we tried to outdo each other in touching the other, even if only very briefly and as if by chance. With each of these very small approaches, even if it was only a very light brush against his body, I would have liked to scream out loud with happiness. It was a completely new but wonderful feeling.
It was the second evening. After dinner, we went to our room. We sat down on my bed and talked about the events of the day. We slid closer and closer together and Markus put his hand around me at some point. We had actually only talked about quite trivial things and without noticing, I suddenly found myself completely in Markus' arms. The last words of our conversation became quieter and quieter until it was almost a whisper. It was only when we were both silent for a moment that I really realised our situation and I was afraid that Markus might not feel our situation as beautiful as I did. I looked a little uncertainly into his eyes, but I could tell from his expression that he was enjoying it just as much as I was. His loving smile gave me a sense of security and I now dared to put my arms around him and pressed my cheek firmly against his to feel the warmth of his body all over. He stroked my body very gently and timidly with his hand and I felt his first kiss, as light as a gentle breeze. We lay down and just held each other. We tried to be as close to each other as possible. I closed my eyes and only sometimes, very carefully, did my fingertips check to make sure Markus was really there and that I wasn't just imagining it. We snuggled up close and I didn't perceive anything but the scent and warmth of his skin.
I had never heard someone say to me, ‘I have fallen in love with you,’ and it was the first time that I said it to someone and felt how much more these words can mean than when you hear or read them anywhere else. We lay like that until the next morning because neither of us wanted to let go of the other.
I don't need to mention that these five days with Markus were more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. As always when something is very beautiful, these days were over before we knew it. When I think of the moment we said goodbye in Berlin, my knees still get weak today. When I was alone again on the train to Frankfurt, I suddenly burst into tears. I don't think I've ever cried so much in one day as I did that afternoon. Markus lives near Bremen, I live in a small village near Heidelberg, and it was only on the journey back that I realised that I would have to go without the feelings that had overwhelmed me so much in the last few days and the wonderful hours with Markus for a long time.
At home, I slowly began to organise my impressions and although I had never kept a diary before, I tried to capture everything that had moved me in those moments on my PC. I had to read it over and over again to believe that I was writing about things that I had experienced myself.
If it hadn't been for the daily phone calls with Markus, I would have quickly dismissed it all as a beautiful but unreal dream.
Writing it down really did make it easier for me to understand these completely new feelings a little, and it was only when I had read my little story four or five times that it suddenly hit me: ‘I'm gay!!!’
Not once since I'd met Markus had I ever had this idea. We'd never even talked about it. What was the point? We loved each other, and what you call it doesn't matter, does it?
At that moment, I started to feel fear. Is this feeling that connects us perhaps really the ‘gayness’ that everyone talks about? I'm not gay. I just love a boy. That's certainly not gay, is it?
The thought wouldn't leave my head and as strange as it may sound, when I called Markus the next day, the first thing I asked him was this probably rather stupid question:
‘Markus, do you think we might be gay?"
To my surprise, he didn't have an immediate answer either and confessed that he had never thought about it so directly either.
During these days, my carefreeness of the last few years took its revenge. All the questions that a young gay man might ask himself over time suddenly came at me in a rush. I was panic-stricken and it was as if a veil had fallen from my soul that had protected me from these tormenting thoughts all this time.
How could I live with something like that? I suddenly felt as if I had been infected by something terrible. I hated this feeling and I loved it, after all, it had given me the most beautiful hours of my life.
I would have liked to talk to someone about it. With my mother or with my father, but you can't talk about something like that. I had tried several times, but at some point I couldn't get a word out when I wanted to start steering the topic in that direction. I was so afraid of the uncertainty that controlled me and of how it affected others.
I wrote all of this down – my fears – my desires – my hopes. A small disc suddenly became something to which I entrusted everything that was going on deep inside me.
And now
Andreas looked over at me:
How it all began
For 19 years, I had not wasted a single minute thinking that I might be gay. I had never used that term in my thoughts and when others talked about it, I always felt like they were talking about something I would never relate to in life. It was only today, when I consciously thought about it, that I realised that even earlier on I had always felt more for boys than for girls and that I had always looked at my classmates with great interest when we were in the shower after sports. Even the fact that I liked my best friend Sven much more than a normal friend would be liked, I simply didn't perceive. Maybe I didn't want to, at least I didn't consciously suppress it. I was just the way I was, and of course I would have vehemently denied that I was gay even back then, because I wasn't aware of it myself. I wasn't worried about the fact that I didn't have a girlfriend yet and never looked at girls because it didn't interest me at all. That will come someday – I thought. ‘I'm just a little late, but I'm not the only one, so what the heck.’
I had really made it 19 years without ever thinking about whether I was perhaps a little different than our religion teacher thought was good and only right. 19 years until that week, which I will never forget.
I had just spent 14 days doing civilian service in a home for the disabled when I received an invitation to spend 6 days in Berlin. ‘Invitation’ doesn't sound bad at first, and it was only in the last lines of the letter that it was mentioned that it was a seminar for all new civilian service providers and was not intended for recreation. Well, it doesn't matter, I don't have to pay for it after all, and it's a nice change.
In Berlin, I was staying in a nice double room and was just putting some things from my bag into the cupboard when suddenly HE stood in front of me.
‘Hi, I'm Markus. Are you here for this weird seminar too?"
I looked in the direction from which these words came and suddenly felt as if I had been struck by lightning. I stood there with my mouth open and must have looked very strange, because the sight of Markus had totally confused me. I had never met such a cute boy before and it was actually the first time that I consciously realised what a look from such a sweet guy could do to me, and that made me speechless for the moment. Of course, I hadn't thought of words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ yet, I was just fascinated and didn't really know how to deal with this feeling. These eyes that looked at me so wonderfully had done it to me from the first moment. I don't even remember what I answered Markus, but I think I must have talked a lot of nonsense, because I was much too busy looking at him and listening to his beautiful calm voice.
From the first moment, there was something between us that bound us together. It was as if it had always been that way. Everything Markus said, everything he did, his movements, his gestures, I was simply addicted to it and couldn't get enough of it. He didn't make it difficult for me either, because he didn't leave my side for the entire six days. Whenever possible, he sought my company and already on the first day we tried to outdo each other in touching the other, even if only very briefly and as if by chance. With each of these very small approaches, even if it was only a very light brush against his body, I would have liked to scream out loud with happiness. It was a completely new but wonderful feeling.
It was the second evening. After dinner, we went to our room. We sat down on my bed and talked about the events of the day. We slid closer and closer together and Markus put his hand around me at some point. We had actually only talked about quite trivial things and without noticing, I suddenly found myself completely in Markus' arms. The last words of our conversation became quieter and quieter until it was almost a whisper. It was only when we were both silent for a moment that I really realised our situation and I was afraid that Markus might not feel our situation as beautiful as I did. I looked a little uncertainly into his eyes, but I could tell from his expression that he was enjoying it just as much as I was. His loving smile gave me a sense of security and I now dared to put my arms around him and pressed my cheek firmly against his to feel the warmth of his body all over. He stroked my body very gently and timidly with his hand and I felt his first kiss, as light as a gentle breeze. We lay down and just held each other. We tried to be as close to each other as possible. I closed my eyes and only sometimes, very carefully, did my fingertips check to make sure Markus was really there and that I wasn't just imagining it. We snuggled up close and I didn't perceive anything but the scent and warmth of his skin.
I had never heard someone say to me, ‘I have fallen in love with you,’ and it was the first time that I said it to someone and felt how much more these words can mean than when you hear or read them anywhere else. We lay like that until the next morning because neither of us wanted to let go of the other.
I don't need to mention that these five days with Markus were more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. As always when something is very beautiful, these days were over before we knew it. When I think of the moment we said goodbye in Berlin, my knees still get weak today. When I was alone again on the train to Frankfurt, I suddenly burst into tears. I don't think I've ever cried so much in one day as I did that afternoon. Markus lives near Bremen, I live in a small village near Heidelberg, and it was only on the journey back that I realised that I would have to go without the feelings that had overwhelmed me so much in the last few days and the wonderful hours with Markus for a long time.
At home, I slowly began to organise my impressions and although I had never kept a diary before, I tried to capture everything that had moved me in those moments on my PC. I had to read it over and over again to believe that I was writing about things that I had experienced myself.
If it hadn't been for the daily phone calls with Markus, I would have quickly dismissed it all as a beautiful but unreal dream.
Writing it down really did make it easier for me to understand these completely new feelings a little, and it was only when I had read my little story four or five times that it suddenly hit me: ‘I'm gay!!!’
Not once since I'd met Markus had I ever had this idea. We'd never even talked about it. What was the point? We loved each other, and what you call it doesn't matter, does it?
At that moment, I started to feel fear. Is this feeling that connects us perhaps really the ‘gayness’ that everyone talks about? I'm not gay. I just love a boy. That's certainly not gay, is it?
The thought wouldn't leave my head and as strange as it may sound, when I called Markus the next day, the first thing I asked him was this probably rather stupid question:
‘Markus, do you think we might be gay?"
To my surprise, he didn't have an immediate answer either and confessed that he had never thought about it so directly either.
During these days, my carefreeness of the last few years took its revenge. All the questions that a young gay man might ask himself over time suddenly came at me in a rush. I was panic-stricken and it was as if a veil had fallen from my soul that had protected me from these tormenting thoughts all this time.
How could I live with something like that? I suddenly felt as if I had been infected by something terrible. I hated this feeling and I loved it, after all, it had given me the most beautiful hours of my life.
I would have liked to talk to someone about it. With my mother or with my father, but you can't talk about something like that. I had tried several times, but at some point I couldn't get a word out when I wanted to start steering the topic in that direction. I was so afraid of the uncertainty that controlled me and of how it affected others.
I wrote all of this down – my fears – my desires – my hopes. A small disc suddenly became something to which I entrusted everything that was going on deep inside me.
And now
Andreas looked over at me: