John Paul Bramer

We could fool around, but only when he wanted to.

We should do our best not to be seen together too often in public, and we should definitely never, ever acknowledge that there was anything gay going on between us.

These were good old-fashioned,

Heterosexual handjobs between best bros.

Those are Cory's rules.

And you know what?

I abided by them.

Reluctantly at first, but then without even really questioning them.

Before I knew it, Cory was completely in the driver's seat.

Literally, even when we were in my car, he didn't let me drive.

And I got used to it.

I truly believed, in my heart of hearts, this was as good as a closeted country kid was ever gonna get, and I shouldn't do anything to mess it up.

I mean, this is someone who wanted to spend time with me, someone who talked to me, someone who even touched me sometimes.

That was more than I was used to, and I guess that's all I thought I deserved.

I mean, where else was I going to find a relationship like this without having to come out?

And yeah, I was pretty sure that my family wouldn't care if I came out as gay, but this was still rural Oklahoma, and to be honest with you, I kind of thought I had enough stuff going on as it was.

I was Mexican-American.

I was left-handed, two things.

I was and continue to be incredibly embarrassed to be alive, and I'm really just trying to make it to death without making too much of a fuss.

And that's definitely how I approached my relationship to Corey.