The Kiss

An entire life is changed in a moment.

[publicity photo for Dr Dolittle]

Do you remember Dr Dolittle? One of the animals was a two headed llama…but the heads were on opposite sides of the body…and it was called “Pushme-Pulyu.” Now anyone who has suffered from irregularity would tell you that this had to be one cranky beast, but in children’s fiction bowel issues rarely are discussed beyond a simple tummy ache…think Edmund gorging himself on Turkish Delight.

Over the years I encountered individuals who would try to draw you in only to push you away…I referred to that emotional behavior as the Pushmi-Pulyu Syndrome, rooted in insecurity and a fear of intimacy. I need validation but my trust issues make me afraid. Think of it as emotional constipation…desiring to go two different ways without…relief.

My story takes place during my Junior year of university at Northwestern. I was a prior enlisted midshipman in the Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps…meaning I had enlisted in the Navy and then been granted a scholarship to college with the goal of serving as an officer upon graduation. There was one little hitch. This was 1986 and I was gay.

I knew who I was when I enlisted. I also knew I could be kicked out if my sexual orientation was ever discovered. However, it was 1981 and I needed desperately to leave home and the military was a safe way to do so. So, here I was five years later leading a double life.

What follows is a sort of Pushmi-Pulyu situation.

One night I was at the student union with a friend drinking beer. Another midshipman joined us. He too was a prior enlisted and so he was an older Freshman. We three proceeded to polish off a couple pitchers before leaving.

Have you ever heard one of your older gay friends talk about “gaydar”? I’m not sure if the younger crowd even uses that term, since everywhere you turn you bump into someone who “identifies” (God I loathe that term) as “queer.” Back in the day when we were more private, if not plain closeted, you leaned into your Gaydar to determine who was “family”…or “friends of Dorothy.” Speaking of which, that expression confused the hell out of Navy Intelligence as they conducted their witch-hunts…who was this Dorothy? If they could find her, they could root out all the queers once and for all! Honest to God true! So unless you were in a gay club it was a challenge.

Well, this guy was tripping my Gaydar big time. However, one has to proceed cautiously when in the military. When it was time to leave, one way or another, he ended up coming back to the house with me. I was renting a big house with seven other students that year. We ended up in the kitchen. I continued to push the envelope and damned if he didn’t seem receptive. We were both drunk and I should have recognized that this was a danger zone.

He was sitting on the counter in the corner and I was standing right in front of him between his legs. Close…very close. His “you’re in my personal space” alarm should have gone off if he was uncomfortable. He just let me stand there. At what seemed the right moment, with a hand on each of his thighs, I slowly leaned in for a kiss. There was plenty of time for him to say, “Whoa, dude, what the fuck!”

No. Our lips connect and my tongue begins to upcharge the kiss, but he pulls back. “No, I’m not like that!” Now, I am no sexual predator. I immediately back off and apologize. Personal space protection zones are back up and running.

Recognizing that I had misread “closeted” as “private,” he was clearly not ready for prime time, and I had no interest in pressing on into the demilitarized zone to see how far we might go. No means no, even if inside he thought “maybe.” I began to wrap up the evening, but…get this…he still wants to spend the night! Ummm…no, not a good idea. I drove him across town to his dorm and called it a night.

Little did I know how much would change from that kiss.

As best I can tell he woke up the next day horrified. Here’s the thing about closet cases…sometimes their erotic urges scare them and to prove how strongly they are NOT remotely homosexual, they crank up the homophobia…big time.

So he has a female friend…also a Midshipman…approach my BFF and ask her if I was gay. It caught Dawn off guard and without thinking she says, “Yes, but let’s talk about it.” So both the guy and the gal file official statements and an investigation occurs.

I’m called into the Lieutenant’s office and asked point blank. In the moment, I deny it. My BFF and my roommate are both called in. Dawn perjures herself. Poor Jeff has long suspected, but we never discussed, so he lies anyway hoping they won’t make him take a lie detector test.

As the days unfold, I have time to think about my future. Did I want to try and fight this and then for the rest of my career live under a cloud of suspicion? In the end, I fessed up and was separated from the Navy.

I found a way to pay for Senior year and graduated in 1987 with a liberal arts degree and no idea what to be when I grew up. My pathway was abruptly changed.

Eventually I found my way to nursing and am now retired after nearly 30 years. The closet case? Well, my fellow midshipmen treated me very well in the aftermath. They were all mostly angry at him for “turning me in” and the biggest and best irony of all? They assumed this was a fight between boyfriends. Yes. They assumed he was as gay as I was! He was blackballed and left the program.

In past years I was able to find his account on Facebook. He got married and had kids. I hope for his sake that his curiosity was just a passing fancy or if it was more that he respected his wife enough to set it aside for the sake of his marriage commitment.

In the end, my life worked out just fine. Part of me…just a wee small part…regrets having to give up the Navy. What evolved in its place though was very rewarding and would never have happened but for that one kiss.