Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Memories and Regrets (Part 3) (standard:non fiction, 2578 words) [3/5] show all parts
Author: MayaAdded: Apr 22 2001Views/Reads: 2769/2008Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Part 3. It gets better from here.
 



I never forgot Curt.  Not by a long shot.  I went to school.  I got a
job.  I moved out on my own.  I was doing things that someone in their 
early 20’s should have been doing.  I was doing it alone.  But I was 
doing it. 

I had one really, really good friend - Stacy. During all the time in
high school, Stacy was always a good friend.  We met when I was in the 
seventh or eight grade – she was in the 5th or 6th grade.  She moved 
away during high school, though.  We never lost touch, but she wasn’t 
physically there for me.  Stacy is my very best friend in the whole 
world now, and I cherish her with my whole heart.  I don’t think we 
could be closer, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.  She moved 
back a year or two after I graduated, so I wasn’t really alone in the 
sense of being lonely, just alone in the sense of having no significant 
other.  That hadn’t changed much at all from high school.  I was still 
short and fat. 

I was a good person, though.  People could see that, and I got along
pretty well.  Most people who took the time to get to know me liked me. 
 I was friendly.  I had no room in my life for people who looked down 
on other people because they were not like themselves or didn’t fit 
their little mind set of what should be or what they should look like 
or act like or think like.  I tried to take people at face value.  If 
they were good to me, they were worth my time, but I was extremely shy 
and self-conscious.  I didn’t make friends easily. 

I grew up feeling like I was judged by what I looked like not by who I
was.  I was not going to do that to anyone else.  I knew what it felt 
like to be different.  I grew up with small minded people calling me 
names and looking down on me because I was fat.  It’s as simple as 
that.  It wasn’t because I was mean or a bad person.  It was because I 
was fat. PERIOD.  I remember walking into the girls bathroom in 8th 
grade.  There were a few other girls (part of the “beautiful people”) 
in there.  One of them looked at me and said to her other friends, “If 
I was that fat I’d kill myself.”  Then they walked out.  She was not 
talking to me she was talking about me like I wasn’t even there.  I 
won’t ever forget that. 

I should thank her, though.  Maybe it was then and there that I decided
that I was not the one with the problem.  What I felt about myself was 
a lot more important than what other people thought of me.  I was never 
going to treat someone differently because of who they were.  If I 
wasn’t going to like someone it was going to be because they did 
something or said something to show me they weren’t worth my time.  For 
the most part, that’s how I lived my life from then on.  I wasn’t 
perfect.  I succumbed to peer pressure, but I tried to be a good person 
– by my own definition. 

The day before Curt’s 23rd birthday (1992) 

As I said, I hadn’t forgotten about Curt.  I still thought about him
occasionally, but by this time it had been probably 2 or 3 years since 
I last saw him.  I was dozing in bed with the television on that night 
when I heard Curt’s name.  I wasn’t really watching the television.  In 
fact, I didn’t have my glasses or contacts on so I couldn’t even see 
the television.  I heard it, though.  They were talking about Curt.  He 
was in the National Guard and he was speaking out at a gay pride day 
rally.  This was news worthy.  Gays in the military.  Omigod.  Please.  
Like this hasn’t happened for centuries. 

I wasn’t sure if this was the same Curt I knew, so I actually got up and
stood right in front of the TV so I could see.  Yep.  It had been a few 
years, but that was definitely him.  Needless to say, I didn’t get much 
(any) sleep that night. 

Okay, so here’s the thing.  I did not know he was gay.  I had no idea. 
I don’t remember hearing any rumors, but I don’t deal in rumors, 
anyway.  I try and ignore them.  I was a little surprised.  Okay, I was 
shocked.  You know what else I was.  I was proud.  I was so proud of 
him.  I could hardly contain myself when I heard this.  I had all sorts 
of emotions running through my mind.  The biggest emotion was WOW!  I’m 
not sure what that emotion is called, but it should have it’s own name. 
 I wanted to jump up and down and tell everyone.  I know him!  I know 
him!  I’m so proud of him.  I knew he would make a difference. 



Click here to read the rest of this story (149 more lines)




This is part 3 of a total of 5 parts.
previous part show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Maya has 6 active stories on this site.
Profile for Maya, incl. all stories
Email: mayacute2@hotmail.com

stories in "non fiction"   |   all stories by "Maya"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy