Humble beginnings

   It started only a few years ago. I was about to turn seventeen years old but my body and my mind were years beyond that. From the moment puberty hit me, I had a very pronounced urge to explore every part of my body and my sexuality. Of course, I was too young at first so I did all of that exploring by myself. It was a great moment for me, because I discovered that I could learn who I was and what I liked in the privacy of my own room. Masturbation became something that made or broke my day.

 I wouldn’t say I got obsessed with it, I just thought it was fun to do it and try different things, with oils and stuff like that. From that young age, around twelve years old, I started watching porn on my parent’s laptop. It was our first computer and not even my parents knew a lot about the Internet or how to use it, so it took them a while to discover what I did with it. But when they did, they sent me straight to a shrink. That’s the type of parents my parents are, very nervous and prone to freaking out for nothing.

 The expert told them it was normal for a boy my age to explore his sexuality, but as most adults and people in general; they refused to believe I had any idea of what I liked at that age. They thought I was basically going insane because of bad influences around me. They forbid me to play more videogames, as well as watching any TV. I also was forced to interact more with people in school, only because I had few friends and none of them really ever had any kind of relationship outside of school.

 Weirdly enough, it was not long after that, between the shrink and my paranoid parents, that I met this new kid at school. We were a little bit older and hit it off right away. I had been forced to enter a sports team, so I was playing football with other guys, but I never really played. They all knew I hated being there so they left me be. But this new kid really loved to play but he also like talking to me when he was waiting for his turn to chase after the ball. He was very kind and funny and I liked that he didn’t pretended to be an adult.

 That year and the next one, we spent them together. I stopped that football nonsense but we stayed great friends. So much so that we went out for ice cream together, we would go to the movies and he would even come home and talk to my parents for very brief periods of time. And they loved him, even if I had left the team and I didn’t really have any other friends. They thought everything with me had gone back to normal and they were very eager to see the next step in my growth, the moment were I would decide my profession and go on to college to meet the woman of my life.

 Well, as I knew it would happen, I disappointed my parent’s big time. First of all, I kept masturbating and watching porn. I just got smarter than them, so they couldn’t catch me. Second, my friend Caleb (the new kid at school) had been one of the main influences in how to channel all of that that I had in my head and just all over my soul. Because I really thought it was part of me. We would steal porno magazines and we would always check out the ones with men first, because he knew very well that’s what I liked.

He got a girlfriend when we turned sixteen, a girl named Debra who was cool and all but I just didn’t find interesting. He told me he had sex with her several times but I never truly believed that. Not only because she looked too much like a prude, but because everything he said had a bit of exaggeration to it and it was very easy to notice. Anyway, I didn’t care at all because Caleb was a good friend to me, he didn’t judge or anything and we would have long and stimulating conversations about things we actually liked.

 It was just a couple of years before graduating that he came to me all excited. He had come home with his laptop and showed me a page where they announced the search for new actors in the area. It was not precisely for a period drama, but for porn involving younger actors and older actors. I was confused at first, but Caleb was very much excited, telling me it would be a great and fun thing to do, to just try out for a porn film and be able to tell that experience later, even if I didn’t get chosen.

 I wasn’t as excited as him when I saw it. Yeah, I spoke a lot about sex and bodies and all of that but that didn’t mean I actually knew how to do any of that. Caleb knew very well I was a virgin, but he seemed to have forgotten all about that. The other thing was that I had no self-esteem, at all. At that was something we didn’t really discuss because it’s not something very easy to talk to with friends. He was the guy I liked to hang out with to have fun, not to speak about things that made me feel like shit.

 But there was one detail that actually made him stop smiling at once and the webpage was clear about it: the actors had to be at least eighteen years old. They even stated that they would ask for ID before anyone would be able to do an audition. So Caleb’s enthusiasm fell to the floor because we were not even seventeen. He could have passed for older, because he already had some facial hair and he was very tall, but I still looked like a kid and had nothing going on for me to make people think that I eighteen years old. There was no way I could pass for someone older.

 But then, Caleb smiled again, grabbed his laptop and ran out of my room, only yelling he would see me in school after the weekend. There were some weekends we would hang out, but he knew I had to visit my grandparents and that always took way longer that it should, so we just hoped to see each other again the next Monday. During those two days, I did wonder about what idea had passed through his head after I had pointed out the age thing, but it was sometimes better not to dwell too much on things like that.

 I really liked how impulsive he was and how much of a good friend he was. He really didn’t care at all about me being gay and we even did that promise that if we hadn’t married anyone by the time we would be forty, we would marry each other.  It was a silly thing to do but nice anyway. We mocked my shrink and my parents together and how he would always do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted because his parents were hippie vegans or something like that. It was just a very entertaining relationship.

 On Monday, he arrived at school with two fake ID’s. He told me he had grabbed my picture from Facebook, because he thought I looked a bit older in one of them. He had done the same with his and then he had gone to a cousin of his that knew very well how to make fake ID’s. I didn’t even ask anything else because the cards did look authentic, with the proper seals and everything. I asked if he needed any money and he just assured me that his cousin owed him too much to be asking for any money.

 That Saturday, we went out late and told our parents we were going to see a movie. Instead, we went to this gay neighborhood were the auditions would take place. Funny enough, the guy didn’t say a word when he gave him the ID’s. He just gave us a number and told us to wait. That night, we only got checked out by three guys. I was one of the few men there that got selected to actually have an audition.  It would take place right then and there, only a few hours later. I was excited but really nervous.

 Anyway, that’s how it all got started. I have been working in this industry for six years now and, although it was very difficult at the start, I was able to pull through even after people in my first productions learned that I wasn’t as old as I had said I was at first. I was fired and hired in a matter of days.

 As for Caleb, he was just there to support me. He and his girlfriend stayed together even after our prom. Then, he realized that he wasn’t really into her and moved on to guys. He says he’s pansexual or something but the only thing I care about is that a very good friend has my back.

Swimming

   The light seemed to be far away, moving far from my fingers each time I moved my arms. The space I was in seemed very open and, for a moment, I felt that would be the feeling of being floating in space, without a proper astronaut suit of course. I have no idea why I thought that at that moment. Isn’t the brain supposed to prioritize things in our bodies in order to make us live longer? However, I could almost see the ship I had come out too, floating silently in front of me, and a big planet below me. But all that didn’t matter because I was about to die.

 The thought lasted just a second but it was strong enough for me to move faster, to force my tired arms to do a little bit more work. Every single vein and nerve in my body was crying in pain, my brain hurt so much I couldn’t stand it. I had always wished to be taller in order to have bigger arms and feet, which would have helped so much in that moment. But I wasn’t.  I was just the opposite of that and I was in a position where wishing was useless.

 My last movements towards the light were desperate. It was then when my body felt like it was empty. Every single thing that had no real use, every function that didn’t serve a purpose in that moment, they all disappeared in order to focus on the fact that I was going to die if my body didn’t perform something close to a miracle. Because I had never done what I about to do. It was a triumph I would never really be aware of and that’s ok because it worked.

 It was my right hand, my main hand if you will, the first limb of my body to feel the air outside. It felt terribly cold, colder that the water in the lagoon. The air seemed to be against me too but the difference was I could breathe that. The water was different, invasive and dangerous. Before and after that, I could never understand the people that are fascinated with water and would like to spend their lives in it.

 I guess that makes me a hypocrite. Because I kind of was one of those people before that. Since the earliest age, my parents took me to the ocean, to swimming pools, lake or wherever I could swim. I took classes and even competed for prizes when I was in school. Modesty aside, I won several of those competitions because I had a serious passion about the water, about how my body moved in it and it felt like home.

 The hard time would be during my teenage years when, for reasons I shouldn’t address, I became increasingly larger in size. And it was nature doing its job; it was more like junk food and sugar doing their thing. It was then when I got depressed for the very first time. Self diagnosed, of course. I never went to any doctor or shrink to tell me how I felt. Even at that age I found the concept ridiculous.

 Of course, I stopped my swimming. I was too big for the bathing suit and too sad to move my arms that fast. It was like that for years and I had to put away any remainder of who I had been before because it hurt too hard. Somehow, I had become a disappointment for myself. Is there anything more pathetic than that? I have no idea. The point is my attention shifted from one thing to the next. You can blame puberty for that. I just had to survive high school so, as when I swam, my body had to get its priorities straight.

 It was only in my last years of college, more than ten years after I had dropped out of the swim team in school, that I came back to the water. It’s amazing to think about it, but in that time I never really swam. Yes, I went to the beach or to houses with pools. But I would only be in the water for a moment, if at all. Maybe surprising but true. I felt I didn’t belong there anymore so why overstay my welcome?

 Aged twenty-three years old, I discovered a gym close to my house that had a swimming pool. The best part was you could reserve one of the swimming lanes for an hour and didn’t put anyone to tell you how to do anything. It was absolutely free of that. So I decided to go and, at first, I felt as drowned as in the lagoon. But I decided I would not ask for help and, slowly, it all came back to me.

 After my first week, the people that worked there congratulated me for my style, my technique. Although one of them reminded me, as if I didn’t know, that I was too short and that could be a problem. I know what he meant: being short in a pool is a problem because you take longer to reach the other side, even if it is by a few centimeters. Those can be decisive in a competition and they were certainly decisive in the lagoon. If I had been taller, the sense of terror would have been less powerful.

 When I had two arms outside of the water, the only thing I could do was taking a big breath. I felt alive, although barely. My legs hurt so much but they kept on moving until I reached the shore, which was obscured by the shadow caster over by the rocky structure above the lagoon. It was like a vault that enclosed the whole system. Why would I ever think it was a good idea to swim in a flooded cave?

 But as the soon got higher in the sky, the place seemed to get larger and the water revealed itself as so transparent and perfect. The sky was evenly reflected on its surface. It was so well done, the surface of the water, that had calmed down fast after I had gotten out of it, seemed like a huge mirror where God could check himself out.

 I lay down in my back, conscious I would have to swim back to the exit. Before I got comfortable, I checked for animals, bugs and others. After all, it was an arid place and little animals are known to live through the cracks of rocks and such. But when I was down, looking at the sky through the opening before me, I realized that was, again, my first time swimming in a very long time.

 The pool in the gymnasium was great. After some time, I got a proper job wearing a tie and a suit, which I’ve always hated, so I had to move my swimming hours to a later time. I would go the moment work finished, around six or seven in the afternoon. I would stay there for an hour, not stopping for more that a few seconds. I got new fans, new people that told me they were really surprised by me. I can’t tell you how much I loved that attention, which I had never gotten for anything else.

 However, I caught the eye of one particular person and from then on, I only cared about his comments and his smiles. I had learned not to let opportunities go by, so after a week of random looks, I decided to approach him after I was done swimming. It was weird because it was in the locker room, where people grabbed their stuff to have a shower or changed their clothes. He was wearing his bathing suit, like me, when I asked him if he would like to have a drink in a bar close to there.

 That was our first date. We considered it our first date a year later, when we celebrated the anniversary of our relationship. We didn’t really celebrate, we just got together and did the things we both like: we went swimming to a beautiful lake, we had a picnic with many delicious things to eat and we kissed and made love in my car, which was incredibly comfortable for such a vehicle.

 Our relationship lasted for almost three years. One month shy of our relationship turning three years old, he was assaulted in the street by some guy that wanted to steal his money. The guy had a gun and shot him with it, once. The bullet hit his spine. We all got to the hospital in time to say a few words. Then, he was gone. As if he had never existed. We had so many plans, a life of plans. This city is crazy.

 I came to the desert because of what happened. I needed to escape from everyone and everything. I still think about him, date and night. I cry for him and I also have wet dreams with him. But it’s in the water I feel him the most. I guess that’s why I challenged myself to swim through the flooded cave. And that’s why I’m challenging myself to go back. For him but also for me. I need to feel alive again.