It was the first full day back after Winter Break. I had actually decided to do it the day before, the minute I entered the dorm, because I knew that he would be there already. Unfortunately, another one of my roommates was also there, so it didn’t happen then. It was a Monday, January 14th. I remember being nervous all day. I asked my best friend if he wanted to go on a walk after dinner, and he agreed. He then proceeded to invite the rest of our room to go also, thankfully they all declined (the lazy bums).

Anyway, after dinner we went on our walk. I had decided to walk up to Lookout Point, a spot halfway up the mountain that looks out on the city below, one of my favorite places on campus. Nice and peaceful there. On the way up he asked me if I was alright at least three times, because I obviously wasn’t, and each time I responded with a tepid “Yea, I’m fine.” When we finally got there I sat in silence with my back to the view, he was standing behind me looking out at the city. We were like that for what felt like an eternity, although was probably only a few minutes, me trying to get the words out, although I was not making a sound. Luckily, I was prepared for my own inability to speak, so I finally stood up, shaking, tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a letter. It was only a few paragraphs long, but it said all that needed to be said (“I’m bisexual. I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”). I walked away trying not to cry, not succeeding in doing so. I leaned against a rock wall about twenty feet away, my back turned, completely dreading what was to come next. About a minute later I hear him walking towards me, and as he approached I heard the words that I will never forget, “Hey man; that’s fine.”

I won’t ever forget the conversation that followed. He told me he was completely okay with it, and that his mother was gay, which he had always found hard/awkward to have to tell friends. I never actually said the words “I’m bi” to him until a few nights later on a different walk. We were interrupted by the cops at one point, asking if we were alright, and at that point I could respond truthfully, “Yes.” When we started the walk back down the mountain my legs almost gave out from under me. I asked for the letter back, because I wanted something to always remind me of that night. I still have it, and read it anytime I feel down. In hindsight I don’t think that I should have taken it back though. I think that if something like that had been given to me, I would have wanted to keep it. I don’t think I’ll ever know if he wanted to keep it or not, because I don’t think I’ll be ever be asking him “Hey, you know that letter that I gave you when I came out? You want it back?”

I came out months later as gay. I don’t know if I was gay all along and was just denying that fact to myself, or if I was truly bisexual and my sexuality just evolved. I don’t think that it really matters either way. I felt what I felt, and I am what I am. Nothing will change that.