I have known my best friend, D, you could say since I was two months old. That is the difference between us. Since then we’ve been friends and no matter what happened, where life took us, mostly me, being the wanderer, we’ve been connected to the point of me knowing that in five minutes the phone will ring and it will be her at the other end.

Neither of us had siblings and we kind of adopted each other. We’ve shared many things, heavy and sad things that united us in ways many siblings won’t ever be. I thought we had no secrets until recently, when I realized I had one, and that it was a big one. As soon as I became conscious of this I started to hold back from things that were very natural to us before. Hugs, kisses and sleepovers, even a simple holding of the hands became rare.

So three years ago I came out to her, after she got tired of my moping and asked me what the hell was wrong with me. She took it with a strong dash of concern. Considering my past, her concern was pretty legitimate. I used to be an extremely blunt and outward person with little regard of what others think. What you see is what you get, take it or leave it, and usually my tongue is faster than my brain. (stop laughing..:)) ..you know what I mean)

The first thing she told me was to consider my son’s feelings, before I shout this from the roof tops and that I should take into account the fact that I just went through a sad divorce and that might be the reason I think I’m gay. I wanted to reassure her that this had nothing to do with that and explain why I am so sure of that. But I couldn’t. My explanations involved other people that we both knew and out of respect for them I just simply muttered, “Maybe”.

So, that was it. The only time we talked about it again was when I told her I am meeting this girl and I’ll be spending a couple of days with her. I could see the effort she made to sound happy for me. When I came home I showed her a picture. Politely she looked at it and said, “Oh, she is very pretty.” But I know that if it would have been a guy she would have definitely asked for details.

For the next couple of years I have talked myself into focusing on my son and career and putting aside my romantic life. Of course, one can ignore that side only for so long. One of our common friends kept on trying to set me up with single friends of her husband. Kindly, I declined every single time, saying that I am too busy for dating. It wasn’t far from the truth, but the real reason was that I found it pointless.

A couple of months ago I felt the need to remind her that despite her hopes, it is not “a faze” and things didn’t change and eventually I shared with her my fear that maybe friends won’t accept me, if I actually start dating a woman and I’m seen with her. She reassured me that if it comes to that, they will be fine with me. I hope she is right.

Still, even after that rather intimate conversation and her kind of a reassuring smile, I held back from those little affectionate gestures that I think we both miss. She invited me to sleep over so many times, as we used to before, just hang out in pj’s, eat sweets and then salty and then sweets again and drink cappuccinos with too much whipped cream in the morning . I couldn’t. The thought of sleeping at her place and then eventually her husband finding out about me, scares me. I am close to him too. He understood from day one that I and D are joined at the hip and package deal, so to speak, and though we often see things very differently, at the end of the day, on matters that count, we always stand as a family. If there is something, I am the first he calls.

I am still worried about what people will think about our friendship when I’ll come out to them, 'cause I will for sure, the day I meet that special person who it will be worth it to come out for.

I am really dragging this out, aren’t I? What I am actually trying to recount is that last night, for the first time since I told her about me, I regretted my confession bitterly.

She wasn’t feeling good since Saturday, so instead of taking over lunch as we usually do, her hubby and her kids came over for lunch to let her rest. We take turns cooking. After lunch he took the kids to the mall. About an hour later D called me and out of breath she told me to run over cause she is not well. Dropped everything and ran like crazy and I found her in a pool of cold sweat and right away I called an ambulance and her husband.

The ambulance took their time and I have never felt so frustrated and helpless in my entire life. She asked me to massage her hands and legs cause they were numb, but no matter what I did she was shaking uncontrollably and all I wanted was to just hold her tight and tell her everything would be alright.

To my shame, I found myself even under those circumstances unable to hug her. I know it is as ridiculous as it can be, but I just held her hands and looked at her in despair not being able to hold in my arms the one person dearest to me and who was my sister for all intents and purposes, out of fear that one day it might all be misinterpreted and I’ll be pushed aside by everyone, starting with her husband.

She is better today, thank goodness. But I know as soon as I am off work I am going over and I will hug her with all my strength and I will reassure her that everything will be alright. I've got to have faith, that the day everyone else finds out about me, they will handle it graciously and stand by me as they do now, starting with her slightly homophobic husband.

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