Hello my name is Chad
I'm an Okie by birth, but thanks to the greatest man I've ever met, I now live in the great state of Texas. I'm 33, a Sophomore in college (late bloomer) and was raised the youngest of 4 by a single mother. Mostly we went to the Methodist Church, but remained members of the Baptist Church across the street. In a small town everyone knows your business, mom dated a little and from time to time the old women of the church would kind of make it hard for mom and we would start sitting closer to the doors. Eventually we got so close to the doors that we wouldn't even open them up, we kids would go sit with the grandparents in the Methodist Church and we'd walk home afterwards to mom cooking lunch.
Mom has been married 4 times now, first one was a drunk. She stayed pregnant to make him stay away from her when he got to drinking too much, he finally just stayed away for good when I was about 3. A couple years later, she married a Southern Baptist Minister. Jim was the greatest thing we could have gotten, or so we thought. Jim was previously a missionary in Bolivia, and came back hooked on all kinds of drugs, then married my mother. LOL Let the fun begin......
Jim lasted about 11 months I believe (was 7 when we left). Jim would spend most of his days (and nights) in a little shack out behind the parsonage with his CB and HAM radios, he also had cameras throughout the house so that he could keep an eye on us heathen children. He even legally adopted us so that the church would not criticize him for being married 8 or 9 times, that's how my name became Price. I could tell you stories about that 11 months, but it would end up being a 4 inch thick book, maybe I'll write that one someday.
Mom remarried my dad, times were good. Mom had a great job, only 3 of us living at home, oldest brother in college and we had a nice home. Dad was off the liquor and drugs and the go to the Methodist Church and say their I do's. It lasted 6 weeks, he would get off work on Wednesdays and go to church with some of his co-workers. We went to pick up the pizza (in another town) and found dad's car at the church (local bar). The next night, his clothes were in trashbags on the front porch and the locks changed. I believe I was 13 at that time.
Mom dates for a few years, we don't go to church anymore except for Easter and Mother's Day. I turn 22 and I'm the ony one in the family not married (except mom) and I come home to visit and bring my best friend and co-worker LaJeana. Mom being mom, assumes that LaJeana is my girlfriend and makes her comments about blue-eyed grandbabies and whadayaknow? I'm hitched to LaJeana two months later, at the same time my roommate who I had been madly in love with for two years (he didn't know) had to move out and LaJeana moved in. Wedding night thoughts: what the heck have I done, I'm gay!
Marriage to LaJeana lasted about 4 years only because she was running from bill collectors and I by the time I was having her served papers, she had allready moved. Bythis time, I had managed a failed relationship with my first boyfriend and was living in Fort Worth with the biggest liar and cheat that ever looked great in pair of Wranglers.
Charles, hmmmmm, he's the best! Sweet, caring, cautious and full of so much love and devotion. Charles came into my life during a time when I thought the life that I was living was the best it was gonna ever get and I was almost hating the fact that I was gay and who knows what else was going through my mind, it was a bad time. I couldn't be straight, I couldn't make any relationship work, my brother who is only a year older than me starts chemo for the first time and everyone has found God (which is a good thing) but they actually kidnapped him and were holding him for ransom.
Everyone got back into church and every once in a while I would go if my brother invited me. I went about once a month for a year, and enjoyed spending that time with my family, but (there is always a but in this type of story) somehow, the preacher must have sensed a sinner in the congregation every time that I would go., he would get up and roar his sermon towards where me and the family were sitting, and eventually would start spouting scripture about gays and lesbians, and would look at my brother and think; is this really worth sitting through just to be able to spend time with a sick person! I didn't think so, and I stopped going. I asked mom if he preached about that every time, she said only when I was there. hmmmm!
Charles and I are doing great at this time and he talks me into going to The Cathedral of Hope, which I believe has the largest gay congregation in the US. We go almost every Sunday for quite a while and it feels good to be with him, hear about God and love, see couples of women and couples of men and sometimes straight couples taking communion together holding hands and singing with beautiful voices. Then the sermons start turning into money hungry your sinning if your not giving more than you can kind of thing. I admit it, we have a good life, we party with our friends and spend a little more on ourselves than we should, but we do give to the church, we donate to organizations that we belong to, but I just can't stand to be told that I'm not being a good enough christian, just because we don't give more than we allready do. I say we, but I mean he, Charles is the breadwinner in our house. Like I said before, I'm a 33 year old Sophomore in college, and that comes out of my pocket. I don't qualify for grants or financial aid, I don't want loans that charge interest so high, and what if I don't get a job within 6 months of graduation that keeps me from paying it back on time. I don't want that option. I actually make less than my monthly bills if you add in tuition and books, Charles pays for a lot of that as well. I get depressed at times because I have to ask him for help when my book bill is $500.00 or if tuition goes up. I usually give in and spill my guts about all of it, and he reassures me that everything is fine, he won't let me drop out because it's something I am passionate about. He doesn't want me to work extra hours, I allready spend enough time away from him as it is, working nights and Saturdays, which at one time was our favorite day to spend all morning in bed cuddling, or watching a movie on the couch, inviting friends over for dinner or just going for walks or riding our bikes.
Charles reminds me from time to time that his loans have no interest and when he retires, I will be the one that he will be asking for money. It all works out in the end, sharing.
My mom told me one time that all she saw from gay people was that they were just a bunch of needy dramatic folks and that all relationships would end because both persons would be so selfish that it wouldn't work. I get a little frustrated at times when she wants to call and talk about her relationship problems, I often want to talk about mine but she doesn't want to hear it.
About 10 years ago, I asked her why she was getting married again. Her answer shocked me. "I'm scared that I will die alone, I'll fall in the bathtub some day, break a hip or knock myself unconscious, and nobody will know that I am dead". Now that's a miserable life and an awful reason to get married. She can't stand her husband, he's a psychologist and a drunk. He doesn't like her, she's almost 70, she is not young and cute, or a blonde. But she supplies him with a place to live and store his beer, and she has someone to find her if she dies. I want more than that, I want what I have! I wouldn't have it if I was still married to LaJeana, we would have destroyed each other by now.
If you read this, it means that you have a wonderful attention span or that I didn't delete it.
If you don't read this, it means that you have ADD, don't care to read that much, or that I deleted it!
Allways want more,