07-10-2025, 02:56 PM
The way to school. I had been taking the bus for two years. Five times a week. Day in, day out. Always the same procedure. Getting on and looking for my seat at the back of the bus, plugging in the iPod and then immersing myself in my music. Now just switch off for 30 minutes, so that I can then concentrate for seven hours at school. That may sound as if I'm looking forward to school, but I'm just like everyone else. Getting up in the middle of the night feels like it, then half-asleep on the way to school, hoping that you can catch up on the hours of sleep you've missed.
I don't know when I first saw him. It was definitely just after the summer vacation. He got on MY bus about halfway to school. My heart stopped. Really cool with Ray-Ban sunglasses. Casually holding out the monthly ticket to the bus driver. After scanning the other passengers, he pushed the aforementioned sunglasses up into his shoulder-length blonde, curly hair and then walked straight towards me. I felt both cold and hot at the same time. I hadn't been listening to my music for a long time. I was electrified. I wanted to look away so as not to embarrass myself here. But somehow he captivated me. He came closer and closer, stopped just in front of me and sat down in the empty seat in front of me. Then he rummaged in his shoulder bag to pull out some kind of document. He began to study it extensively. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His black jeans were hanging at half-mast, actually I didn't like this fashion. But with him it looked just perfect. Was it because I got to see his retro shorts just before he sat down? Dark blue with light, fine horizontal stripes. These stripes emphasized his well-formed butt. I would have liked to have spontaneously grabbed it. Now I was sure that I was gay. This sight was definitely 1000x better than any dressed up 'tits décolleté' of my many female classmates, who probably wore it like an application according to the motto 'take me'.
He scratched his chin while reading the letter. From my point of view, I could admire his smooth and spotless skin. And those well-formed ears were to bite into. Not really bite, but nibble and trace the beautiful shape with the tongue. I didn't even notice that my iPod was no longer making a sound. Battery dead. Anyway, who needs a battery in such a situation? I almost missed my stop to get off. It was with a heavy heart that I got up, walked to the exit, not without taking a deep breath to absorb its lovely smell. I didn't dare to turn around again when I got off. And just like that, it was all over. I stood at the bus stop for a long time, looking after the bus. If only I hadn't been so cowardly...
At school, I thought only of him. Would he take this bus every day? I thought about the next school day, or rather the bus ride before the next school day, with mixed feelings. In the evening before going to bed, I stood in front of my wardrobe trying to decide what to wear tomorrow. Until now, my mom has done that for me. But suddenly I had grown up and was thinking hard about what to wear. Should I shower before going to bed or is it better in the morning, even if the already too short time would be even shorter then? I decided on in the morning and set my alarm clock 20 minutes earlier just to make sure not to miss the bus. I think I'm going crazy right now. There I was, lying in bed, unable to fall asleep because I was imagining that he would hopefully get on the bus again tomorrow. He would then approach me purposefully, to show me his most beautiful smile and sit down next to me...
At some point I must have fallen asleep after all. The alarm clock rings and I snap at it. Then I saw his face. No, not the alarm clock's face, although I still have a really old one with a grinning moon face on it. I saw him getting on the bus. Startled, I jumped out of bed, grabbed the clothes I had laid out the day before and stormed towards the bathroom. My sister's door opened and she looked at me as if I were a burglar (my sister, not the door). Then she asked me if I was sick. Without an answer, I stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I took a long shower and then applied sunscreen. I had borrowed the cream from my stupid sister. I smiled mischievously into the still slightly steamed up mirror. Oh God, I look stupid. I definitely need a cool pair of sunglasses like that. The banging on the bathroom door startled me out of my grimace show. Something like idiot she called me, my stupid sister. I quickly got dressed to leave the bathroom. Oops, that look from her could have killed me. She stood close to me and asked me, breathing deeply, if that was her expensive cream she smelled on me. I just looked at her bored, turned around and stomped into my room. Only 30 minutes left for the bus. Quickly got into the rest of my clothes and headed towards the kitchen, where it already smelled of coffee. My cocoa and the obligatory Nutella sandwich were not yet in place when I entered the kitchen. Startled, my mother turned around. To her stupid question of what I wanted here so early, I replied, slightly stressed, that I had lived here for 15 years. Stunned by my early appearance, my mother now hectically made me my bread and the much-needed cocoa. I stuffed the bread into my mouth as best I could in one piece. I wanted to wash it down with the cocoa, but it was too hot. Ouch! It's usually only lukewarm, I complained to my mother. She just replied, 'No, son, otherwise you'll come to the kitchen so late that it'll be cold again'. I was just about to leave for the bus when suddenly my sister stood in the doorway and held the empty tube of cream in front of my face. “What do you think it costs?” she asked me. “Money, probably, or what else do you usually pay with?” was my reply. She was about to get angry when my mother shouted in between. I took advantage of this situation to quickly grab my school bag and disappear. Outside, the sun was already shining. I took a deep breath and ran to the bus. At the bus stop, I looked at my watch and saw that I still had over 10 minutes to spare. Normally, I reach the bus totally rushed or only see the tail lights. Can be 10 minutes long.
Finally on the bus, I sat down as I do every morning and turned on my recharged iPod. Excitedly, I chewed on my fingernails and couldn't wait for the bus to arrive at the stop where this guy had picked up my angel yesterday. As the bus approached the stop in question, I could already see him, again with sunglasses on his nose. Like yesterday, he scanned the bus as he boarded and sat down in the same seat again, to my delight. Here I could secretly gaze at him again. He took a book out of his bag. The same math book as I used in this school year. So he must be my age. He went to a different school though, otherwise he would get off at the same stop as me. Today he was wearing a different pair of black and white checkered underpants. Would I soon get to see all of his underpants? I watched him, engrossed in his schoolbook. He kept running his hand through his hair to tame it a little. However, they kept falling back into his beautiful angelic face. He had a cute snub nose and it twitched from time to time like a rabbit's. Unfortunately, the bus arrived at my school way too quickly. In my thoughts, I said goodbye to him with a 'see you tomorrow' and got off the bus. Again, I watched the bus for a long time.
So one day passed after another. He had a large selection of sexy-looking underpants. His jeans were all similarly cut. He also had a good selection of hoodies in different colors, and on top of that, his black leather jacket. Every piece of clothing looked great on him. I noticed that I was looking for the same underpants when I went shopping with my mother. Had I gone unnoticed and become a retro shorts fetishist without realizing it? My mother just said that I used to be very embarrassed when we looked for underwear for me.
I noticed how this boy crept more and more into my thoughts. I even dreamed about him from time to time.
He always stood in front of me with his sunglasses, slowly pushed them down to the tip of his nose, looked at me with his beautiful ocean-blue eyes, winked at me, and then pushed these cool glasses back up with his index finger. He asked me out...
My dreams with and about him were like this or similar.
Then the fall vacation began. Two weeks without my sunshine. Even the weekends were unbearable, and now it would be two whole weeks. Oh my God, I didn't think I would be able to survive this. During this vacation, I occasionally took the bus, but only to get off at the stop where he always got on. I started asking around about the neighborhood. I didn't know where he lived or if he lived here at all. I crept through the streets and looked at all the houses. They were beautiful old houses with green gardens around them. Most had old, wrought-iron fences and large old trees. I walked leisurely past all the properties, reading the nameplates here and there, and hoped that he would live somewhere here. I don't know what I would have done if he had suddenly stood in front of me, though. I would have probably wet myself spontaneously or something. In any case, I would have behaved totally stupid. Would he have even noticed me, let alone recognized me as the boy who secretly pined for him on the bus all the time? After what felt like 10 hours, I made my way back home. I repeated this procedure for several days until I convinced myself that he had probably gone on vacation with his family.
On the first day after the vacation, I sat on the bus, waiting for the stop where he would get on again. I was close to tears when the bus passed the stop without stopping. I couldn't concentrate on school. I even missed my stop and had to walk back the one station, promptly arriving late. I failed the class test and in gym class, I got the basketball full in the face. Who had put me up to this used day? I arrived home feeling down and went straight to my room. The next few days were similar. Nobody got on at his stop. I thought I would never see him again. I was also terribly worried about what might have happened to him. Had he moved, gone to a different school or was he just ill?
The following Monday, he was back at his stop. I wanted to jump up and give him a big bear hug, beaming with joy. Happy to see him again, I was all smiles inside. He sat down again at his stop and coughed, took a drink from his water bottle and then blew his nose. Now I would have loved to be his personal nurse and help him take his temperature. No, no, no, I would have had a modern thermometer that you just have to hold to your ear, although......
After a week of despair, everything went back to normal. I even caught myself starting to bet with myself as to what underwear he was wearing. Well, that's how far I've come. I even dragged myself to school with a slight flu-like infection just to be able to secretly gaze at my crush on the bus. My mother certainly thought I liked going to school.
It was getting colder and Christmas time suddenly came upon me. What could I give him? Not that I did it, just the thought. What kind of hobbies did he have? What kind of music did he listen to? What kind of friends did he have? How good was he at school? Was he gay too? All questions to which I might have gotten an answer if I hadn't been so cowardly.
Christmas and the New Year were history. I enjoyed every day. Sometime in the spring, he surprised me with a new hairstyle. The blond curls had given way to a jaunty short hairstyle, with a bit of gel at the front to create a tousled look. Now that I had finally decided to grow my brown hair, he cut off his beautiful curls. If I had known which hairdresser he went to, I would have sacrificed all my pocket money to be able to call his locks my own. No, I wouldn't have had them implanted, but I would have built a 'Dreamboy shrine' with them. I would have even picked up every piece of gum he spat out immediately.
After Easter, it got warmer and summer was just around the corner with warmer temperatures. The school year was slowly coming to an end. I tried hard to study for him in case he ever spoke to me on the bus. I would never have spoken to him. You know why by now.
Then the summer vacation began. Six long weeks without secret adoration. I had even considered secretly photographing him. But that would have been a bit much. So I didn't even dare to do that. I hoped to run into him somewhere by chance during the holidays. At the swimming pool or something. But nothing happened. I even went for occasional walks in his neighborhood without catching a glimpse of him. I spent two weeks at the North Sea with my parents and my stupid sister. There were also some pretty boys around, but none of them came close to my bus crush.
New school year, new luck. I just had to dare to do it. I made a firm decision on the last day of vacation to talk to him. Ask for the time or just smile at him. I don't know.
The first day of school in the new school year. Business as usual. I sat on the bus and waited at the bus stop, his bus stop. Had he changed during the six weeks of vacation? Had he also acquired a healthy summer tan like me? It would be time soon. I could already see a figure standing at the bus stop from a distance. But the closer the bus came, the more different this person looked. It wasn't my boy getting on the bus now. I didn't even find him interesting. Short black, slightly greasy hair. A pimply face. Even his flat, boxy nose didn't look appealing. All of his clothes looked one or two sizes too big. He was probably going to grow into them. To make matters worse, he also sat in HIS seat. I would have liked to have chased him away from the place. But I didn't even dare to do that.
The next few days were similar. At first I thought that he had just extended the vacation a bit or was sick. But one week after another passed and I became more and more sad. I even started to hate myself for being a coward. According to statistics, the probability of meeting a gay boy was 1:10. I should have approached him, but it was probably too late for that now.
Two months later and I was still grieving. My mother was worried. Even my sister noticed that something was wrong with me. During our usual arguments, I just left her and went to my room. “What's the matter? You can't even be argued with anymore,” she shouted after me.
Then there came a point when I couldn't take it anymore. When my mother asked me during Sunday dinner what was wrong with me and that she was worried, I just started crying and didn't stop for a long time. My mother came over to me and just held me in her arms and tried to calm me down. It felt like hours before I had myself under control again. I looked into the confused faces of my father and sister. And again I had to cry. My sister even apologized out of desperation because she thought that the eternal quarrel between us had been the trigger. I just shook my head and tried to smile at her. A few minutes later I had calmed down enough to talk. Slowly, quietly and beating around the bush a little, I confessed to my family that I was gay.
I hadn't expected their reactions. My mother, who had been sitting next to me the whole time, immediately took me in her arms again. “You are and will remain my favorite son,” she told me. Flustered, I just replied questioningly, “You only have one son, don't you?” The ensuing laughter from everyone present eased the tension. My father also promised me his full support and said that he was proud of me for confiding in them. However, I was most pleased with my formerly stupid sister, who said she wanted to interview a friend because she had a gay brother. I felt really good again for the first time in a long time. After our memorable lunch, we sat together for a long time and talked about all kinds of things.
A few days later, my sister gave me the address of a gay youth group nearby. With a pounding heart and also a little fear, I entered the facility and was pleasantly surprised. Although all activity in the room froze from one second to the next and many pairs of eyes looked at me curiously, I immediately felt at ease. The group leader came up to me, shook my hand and led me through the facility under the curious eyes of many boys. It was here that I later found my first boyfriend.
All that happened a long time ago. Today, I volunteer in the youth group myself and try to help desperate boys as much as I can. Every now and then, I think back to my unknown dreamboat on the bus. I wonder what might have become of him. I hope that he is happy in any case, I wish him that with all my heart.
I don't know when I first saw him. It was definitely just after the summer vacation. He got on MY bus about halfway to school. My heart stopped. Really cool with Ray-Ban sunglasses. Casually holding out the monthly ticket to the bus driver. After scanning the other passengers, he pushed the aforementioned sunglasses up into his shoulder-length blonde, curly hair and then walked straight towards me. I felt both cold and hot at the same time. I hadn't been listening to my music for a long time. I was electrified. I wanted to look away so as not to embarrass myself here. But somehow he captivated me. He came closer and closer, stopped just in front of me and sat down in the empty seat in front of me. Then he rummaged in his shoulder bag to pull out some kind of document. He began to study it extensively. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His black jeans were hanging at half-mast, actually I didn't like this fashion. But with him it looked just perfect. Was it because I got to see his retro shorts just before he sat down? Dark blue with light, fine horizontal stripes. These stripes emphasized his well-formed butt. I would have liked to have spontaneously grabbed it. Now I was sure that I was gay. This sight was definitely 1000x better than any dressed up 'tits décolleté' of my many female classmates, who probably wore it like an application according to the motto 'take me'.
He scratched his chin while reading the letter. From my point of view, I could admire his smooth and spotless skin. And those well-formed ears were to bite into. Not really bite, but nibble and trace the beautiful shape with the tongue. I didn't even notice that my iPod was no longer making a sound. Battery dead. Anyway, who needs a battery in such a situation? I almost missed my stop to get off. It was with a heavy heart that I got up, walked to the exit, not without taking a deep breath to absorb its lovely smell. I didn't dare to turn around again when I got off. And just like that, it was all over. I stood at the bus stop for a long time, looking after the bus. If only I hadn't been so cowardly...
At school, I thought only of him. Would he take this bus every day? I thought about the next school day, or rather the bus ride before the next school day, with mixed feelings. In the evening before going to bed, I stood in front of my wardrobe trying to decide what to wear tomorrow. Until now, my mom has done that for me. But suddenly I had grown up and was thinking hard about what to wear. Should I shower before going to bed or is it better in the morning, even if the already too short time would be even shorter then? I decided on in the morning and set my alarm clock 20 minutes earlier just to make sure not to miss the bus. I think I'm going crazy right now. There I was, lying in bed, unable to fall asleep because I was imagining that he would hopefully get on the bus again tomorrow. He would then approach me purposefully, to show me his most beautiful smile and sit down next to me...
At some point I must have fallen asleep after all. The alarm clock rings and I snap at it. Then I saw his face. No, not the alarm clock's face, although I still have a really old one with a grinning moon face on it. I saw him getting on the bus. Startled, I jumped out of bed, grabbed the clothes I had laid out the day before and stormed towards the bathroom. My sister's door opened and she looked at me as if I were a burglar (my sister, not the door). Then she asked me if I was sick. Without an answer, I stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I took a long shower and then applied sunscreen. I had borrowed the cream from my stupid sister. I smiled mischievously into the still slightly steamed up mirror. Oh God, I look stupid. I definitely need a cool pair of sunglasses like that. The banging on the bathroom door startled me out of my grimace show. Something like idiot she called me, my stupid sister. I quickly got dressed to leave the bathroom. Oops, that look from her could have killed me. She stood close to me and asked me, breathing deeply, if that was her expensive cream she smelled on me. I just looked at her bored, turned around and stomped into my room. Only 30 minutes left for the bus. Quickly got into the rest of my clothes and headed towards the kitchen, where it already smelled of coffee. My cocoa and the obligatory Nutella sandwich were not yet in place when I entered the kitchen. Startled, my mother turned around. To her stupid question of what I wanted here so early, I replied, slightly stressed, that I had lived here for 15 years. Stunned by my early appearance, my mother now hectically made me my bread and the much-needed cocoa. I stuffed the bread into my mouth as best I could in one piece. I wanted to wash it down with the cocoa, but it was too hot. Ouch! It's usually only lukewarm, I complained to my mother. She just replied, 'No, son, otherwise you'll come to the kitchen so late that it'll be cold again'. I was just about to leave for the bus when suddenly my sister stood in the doorway and held the empty tube of cream in front of my face. “What do you think it costs?” she asked me. “Money, probably, or what else do you usually pay with?” was my reply. She was about to get angry when my mother shouted in between. I took advantage of this situation to quickly grab my school bag and disappear. Outside, the sun was already shining. I took a deep breath and ran to the bus. At the bus stop, I looked at my watch and saw that I still had over 10 minutes to spare. Normally, I reach the bus totally rushed or only see the tail lights. Can be 10 minutes long.
Finally on the bus, I sat down as I do every morning and turned on my recharged iPod. Excitedly, I chewed on my fingernails and couldn't wait for the bus to arrive at the stop where this guy had picked up my angel yesterday. As the bus approached the stop in question, I could already see him, again with sunglasses on his nose. Like yesterday, he scanned the bus as he boarded and sat down in the same seat again, to my delight. Here I could secretly gaze at him again. He took a book out of his bag. The same math book as I used in this school year. So he must be my age. He went to a different school though, otherwise he would get off at the same stop as me. Today he was wearing a different pair of black and white checkered underpants. Would I soon get to see all of his underpants? I watched him, engrossed in his schoolbook. He kept running his hand through his hair to tame it a little. However, they kept falling back into his beautiful angelic face. He had a cute snub nose and it twitched from time to time like a rabbit's. Unfortunately, the bus arrived at my school way too quickly. In my thoughts, I said goodbye to him with a 'see you tomorrow' and got off the bus. Again, I watched the bus for a long time.
So one day passed after another. He had a large selection of sexy-looking underpants. His jeans were all similarly cut. He also had a good selection of hoodies in different colors, and on top of that, his black leather jacket. Every piece of clothing looked great on him. I noticed that I was looking for the same underpants when I went shopping with my mother. Had I gone unnoticed and become a retro shorts fetishist without realizing it? My mother just said that I used to be very embarrassed when we looked for underwear for me.
I noticed how this boy crept more and more into my thoughts. I even dreamed about him from time to time.
He always stood in front of me with his sunglasses, slowly pushed them down to the tip of his nose, looked at me with his beautiful ocean-blue eyes, winked at me, and then pushed these cool glasses back up with his index finger. He asked me out...
My dreams with and about him were like this or similar.
Then the fall vacation began. Two weeks without my sunshine. Even the weekends were unbearable, and now it would be two whole weeks. Oh my God, I didn't think I would be able to survive this. During this vacation, I occasionally took the bus, but only to get off at the stop where he always got on. I started asking around about the neighborhood. I didn't know where he lived or if he lived here at all. I crept through the streets and looked at all the houses. They were beautiful old houses with green gardens around them. Most had old, wrought-iron fences and large old trees. I walked leisurely past all the properties, reading the nameplates here and there, and hoped that he would live somewhere here. I don't know what I would have done if he had suddenly stood in front of me, though. I would have probably wet myself spontaneously or something. In any case, I would have behaved totally stupid. Would he have even noticed me, let alone recognized me as the boy who secretly pined for him on the bus all the time? After what felt like 10 hours, I made my way back home. I repeated this procedure for several days until I convinced myself that he had probably gone on vacation with his family.
On the first day after the vacation, I sat on the bus, waiting for the stop where he would get on again. I was close to tears when the bus passed the stop without stopping. I couldn't concentrate on school. I even missed my stop and had to walk back the one station, promptly arriving late. I failed the class test and in gym class, I got the basketball full in the face. Who had put me up to this used day? I arrived home feeling down and went straight to my room. The next few days were similar. Nobody got on at his stop. I thought I would never see him again. I was also terribly worried about what might have happened to him. Had he moved, gone to a different school or was he just ill?
The following Monday, he was back at his stop. I wanted to jump up and give him a big bear hug, beaming with joy. Happy to see him again, I was all smiles inside. He sat down again at his stop and coughed, took a drink from his water bottle and then blew his nose. Now I would have loved to be his personal nurse and help him take his temperature. No, no, no, I would have had a modern thermometer that you just have to hold to your ear, although......
After a week of despair, everything went back to normal. I even caught myself starting to bet with myself as to what underwear he was wearing. Well, that's how far I've come. I even dragged myself to school with a slight flu-like infection just to be able to secretly gaze at my crush on the bus. My mother certainly thought I liked going to school.
It was getting colder and Christmas time suddenly came upon me. What could I give him? Not that I did it, just the thought. What kind of hobbies did he have? What kind of music did he listen to? What kind of friends did he have? How good was he at school? Was he gay too? All questions to which I might have gotten an answer if I hadn't been so cowardly.
Christmas and the New Year were history. I enjoyed every day. Sometime in the spring, he surprised me with a new hairstyle. The blond curls had given way to a jaunty short hairstyle, with a bit of gel at the front to create a tousled look. Now that I had finally decided to grow my brown hair, he cut off his beautiful curls. If I had known which hairdresser he went to, I would have sacrificed all my pocket money to be able to call his locks my own. No, I wouldn't have had them implanted, but I would have built a 'Dreamboy shrine' with them. I would have even picked up every piece of gum he spat out immediately.
After Easter, it got warmer and summer was just around the corner with warmer temperatures. The school year was slowly coming to an end. I tried hard to study for him in case he ever spoke to me on the bus. I would never have spoken to him. You know why by now.
Then the summer vacation began. Six long weeks without secret adoration. I had even considered secretly photographing him. But that would have been a bit much. So I didn't even dare to do that. I hoped to run into him somewhere by chance during the holidays. At the swimming pool or something. But nothing happened. I even went for occasional walks in his neighborhood without catching a glimpse of him. I spent two weeks at the North Sea with my parents and my stupid sister. There were also some pretty boys around, but none of them came close to my bus crush.
New school year, new luck. I just had to dare to do it. I made a firm decision on the last day of vacation to talk to him. Ask for the time or just smile at him. I don't know.
The first day of school in the new school year. Business as usual. I sat on the bus and waited at the bus stop, his bus stop. Had he changed during the six weeks of vacation? Had he also acquired a healthy summer tan like me? It would be time soon. I could already see a figure standing at the bus stop from a distance. But the closer the bus came, the more different this person looked. It wasn't my boy getting on the bus now. I didn't even find him interesting. Short black, slightly greasy hair. A pimply face. Even his flat, boxy nose didn't look appealing. All of his clothes looked one or two sizes too big. He was probably going to grow into them. To make matters worse, he also sat in HIS seat. I would have liked to have chased him away from the place. But I didn't even dare to do that.
The next few days were similar. At first I thought that he had just extended the vacation a bit or was sick. But one week after another passed and I became more and more sad. I even started to hate myself for being a coward. According to statistics, the probability of meeting a gay boy was 1:10. I should have approached him, but it was probably too late for that now.
Two months later and I was still grieving. My mother was worried. Even my sister noticed that something was wrong with me. During our usual arguments, I just left her and went to my room. “What's the matter? You can't even be argued with anymore,” she shouted after me.
Then there came a point when I couldn't take it anymore. When my mother asked me during Sunday dinner what was wrong with me and that she was worried, I just started crying and didn't stop for a long time. My mother came over to me and just held me in her arms and tried to calm me down. It felt like hours before I had myself under control again. I looked into the confused faces of my father and sister. And again I had to cry. My sister even apologized out of desperation because she thought that the eternal quarrel between us had been the trigger. I just shook my head and tried to smile at her. A few minutes later I had calmed down enough to talk. Slowly, quietly and beating around the bush a little, I confessed to my family that I was gay.
I hadn't expected their reactions. My mother, who had been sitting next to me the whole time, immediately took me in her arms again. “You are and will remain my favorite son,” she told me. Flustered, I just replied questioningly, “You only have one son, don't you?” The ensuing laughter from everyone present eased the tension. My father also promised me his full support and said that he was proud of me for confiding in them. However, I was most pleased with my formerly stupid sister, who said she wanted to interview a friend because she had a gay brother. I felt really good again for the first time in a long time. After our memorable lunch, we sat together for a long time and talked about all kinds of things.
A few days later, my sister gave me the address of a gay youth group nearby. With a pounding heart and also a little fear, I entered the facility and was pleasantly surprised. Although all activity in the room froze from one second to the next and many pairs of eyes looked at me curiously, I immediately felt at ease. The group leader came up to me, shook my hand and led me through the facility under the curious eyes of many boys. It was here that I later found my first boyfriend.
All that happened a long time ago. Today, I volunteer in the youth group myself and try to help desperate boys as much as I can. Every now and then, I think back to my unknown dreamboat on the bus. I wonder what might have become of him. I hope that he is happy in any case, I wish him that with all my heart.