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I found out this afternoon that my best friend Don died yesterday. He was 14 years older than me, but we had a lot in common. We both loved skiing and antique cars. I would travel to New Hampshire twice a winter to ski with him. In the summer, I would visit him for a week and work on his old cars. He and I owned the same kind of car, 57 Chrysler 300's, and if his car needed something fixed, it was more than likely I had already done the deed on mine. He and I walked through miles of car shows, he telling me all about the finer points of the brass era cars, or the Model A Fords. I'd talk trivia about the designers of this classic Packard or that Duesenberg. We were kindred spirits in the car world, and reveled in the fact that car guys can be gay.
I knew Don for about 25 years. The first 8 I hadn't even realized he was gay. He had been married and had 3 kids. I came out to him about 4 years ago. He was the first person to whom I verbalized the fact that I was gay. It took me about 2 hours and a pot of coffee to tell him. He was also the guy I had my first sex with as a gay man. He was the first to tell me that I was too hard on myself. That if the job demanded 100%, I had to give 110%. He told me to enjoy life more. He told me to do things for myself, and not worry what people around me thought. He was pleased when I told him I was learning that as I slowly am coming out.
He was my best friend. He and I had a falling out about 2 years ago when I took an interest in his ex. We didn't speak for about a year. Last year I started to build bridges. We wrote letters again. He never owned a computer. We started phoning again on a weekly basis. The last time I spoke with him was this past Sunday when he noted I sounded a little down. I spoke about my impending breakup. He assured me it would get better.
I am so glad I called. God I'm going to miss him.
Scott
Cycling is the one sport where a guy can shave his legs, wear spandex and bright colors, and be accepted.
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