The only gay in the villiage...

Last weekend I was put in a situation that made me realize, however many times I feel like my situation is impossible, I am truly lucky.

On Saturday, once we arrived in Huntsville, the quite cottage town surrounded by lakes and picturesque forrest, we took a walk through the main street. The sun beat down on my skin, warming it after months of cold and sunless winter. I smiled, and had good reason to. I was with my family, the sky was crystal blue, and we were walking in the fresh, clean norther air, surrounded by natural beauty.

Of course, being the kick-off to the cottaging season, my mother needed to check into all her favorite stores, seeing what they had for the upcoming outdoors season. She lingered, talking to shopkeepers, while I daydreamed, aimlessly wandering shops. We came to our last stop, a kitchen/clothing/outdoors store near the end of the strip. Originally we weren't even going to go in, but decided to anyway.

The doors were swung open, letting the hydrocarbon-free air inside. Standing at the counter was a guy who must have been my age, and very cute. He looked...bright. His eyes were alert but smiling and warm, his clothes trendy but tasteful, and his mouth creased into a smile as we walked in.

The usual plesantries were exchanged, and my gaydar flickered. "Hmm," I thought. "Maybe?" After all, a guy my age working in a kitchen/clothing store?...but I tried not to think too hard about it. I gave him a smile and some eye contact, and shrugged it off as a mixture of me being oversexed and full of false hope. We walked through the store, and I wound up in the men's section. For being in cottage country, I was stunned to find their selection included a small but well-suited Lacoste section.

A few mintues of browsing later, and who should come up to me but the guy from behind the counter. The store was pretty dead, and I was off in my own little world walking around, turning to face him as he approached. He smiled, genuinely, but it felt like there was something more behind it.

"Uh, if there's anything you need help with, you can let me know," he said, still smiling. I held his gaze, desperately trying to think of a question to ask him to get into a conversation, but failing miserably. After all, what did I have to work with? Other than asking him if this color of shirt would look good on me, I could come up with nothing that didn't sound utterly stupid.

So I simply continued smiling, and said thanks, I'd be sure to let him know. He said he'd be over at the counter, and turned and walked away. Of course, in retrospect, I wish that I had the courage/balls/whatever to strike up a conversation with this guy, maybe even go so far as to try and have coffee with him after his shift, to "farmiliarize myself with local culture" etc. etc. Unfortunately I'm not that confident yet, nor am I naturally really able to make friends/pick people up off the street.

I ended up buying a shirt, and my dad bought some pants. The guy rang it up, which gave me more time to stare...with some attention being returned to me. I think, maybe I was just being overly hopeful again...He popped the stuff into a bag, and turned to me.

"Well I guess this is for you," he said, and stretched out his arm. I took the handle from him (and in another moment of retrospect, wished I'd had brushed a finger against his...) and we turned and left the store. Once we were outside, I shot another glance in to the register, and a smile.

Once I was firmly planted in a deck chair, sun streaming over my pale (and not-yet-yellow) skin, my mind drifted back to the guy in the store. I thought of how hard it must be, up in such a small community with no gays (at least not many who would be out), and no young guys for this guy. I thought how difficult it might be for him at night, lying in bed, thinking he's the only gay in the villiage. Who know's he's gay? And are there any other gay guys there for him to meet? Does he feel alone?

What does one do in situations like that? Obviously this condition must exsist for hundreds of thousands of gay youth throughout North America. Small town, not near any cities, conservative and closed-minded...

Not unlike my hometown.

Thankfully I have an outlet, by living in Toronto I have access to a huge number of gay things. I could haunt the Villiage if I wanted, or meet people online who lived only 15 minutes away, or go to a gay club and be surrounded by people who don't really care about sexual preference. But for these people, stuck in small towns with no way of accessing other gays...life must be difficult.

Not to mention the fact they might not even be open with their sexuality. Everyone knows that news of an openly gay son would spread like wildfire across a small town, and it would make long-term living in the town difficult.

Maybe I'm wrong about all of that. Maybe the gay youths like the guy in Huntsville have met others their age, and are making out just fine in life. Maybe they're happier, more successful homo's than I am. But maybe they're struggling with an impossible situation.

So that afternoon, and tonight, I counted my blessings that I'm able to live (for the most part) in a city where I know where to find guys, where I can actually meet someone in person whom I meet online, and where I can (hopefully) live my life without being stigmatized because of sexuality. And I send up prayers for all the guys who feel alone in their towns, with little hope of meeting another like them.