Golden grannies

Society understood good friends. That would be acceptable and we could be normal again! We'd be accepted by everyone as just close friends, brothers in so many ways. But the thoughts of a platonic relationship sent a shiver of dread through my body. I knew that I could never be close to Kelly and not want her totally. I thought about my father and wondered if he'd been at the graduation if I hadn't told her I was gay. Somehow I doubted golden grannies. But still, I wondered. I thought about the prom. Janet was so pretty in her evening gown! We had such a good time! We danced our feet off that night. We laughed, talked, fellowshipped with friends, and just shared our lives. Couldn't I live with that? Of course I knew I couldn't. I knew that the next day she would be out of that gown and in jeans or shorts, and although I still found her pretty, that was the extent of golden grannies. She was pretty and fun to be with, but try as I might I couldn't picture myself spending my life with her, to the exclusion of all others. I found myself standing in front of the house where I'd spent many hours. It was the local bootlegger. Here a young teen could buy a bottle of beer, a pint of rum, with no questions asked, no problems. I fished in my pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. Yes! I had enough! I started to walk in, but then I saw in my mind, of all things, the youth choir! The choir that I had taken charge of because their leader, Mrs. Atkinshad had to go out of town for an extended period and I'd volunteered to become their director along with my duties as organist.