My first "love"

So, here I go. This topic has been and will be the hardest thing I've ever written about. I can handle telling people I'm gay. That has no shame attached to it. but, this... It's shameful. To the max.

About a year ago, I went into a gay chat room on aol. Yeah, stupid I know. Dangerous, I know. Although I have a feeling that what actually happened has scarred me worse than what may have happened.

I had talked to a few guys on there before. It felt good to talk to people "like me". IT felt good to have someone, somewhere in the world that knew my, then, deepest, darkest secret. none of them really stick out in my head though. no one, except him.

I met one guy, he told me his name was Zach Jones. He had had a very hard life. At the age of around 12, I think, his mom had put him in a coma because, among other things, he was gay. While he was in this coma, his mom had sperm taken from him, resulting in a child. Tyler.

Despite these things, Zach was every flavor of perfect to me. He could look past outside beauty to see the inside. Also, he was man enough to take care of his son when he woke from his coma. We talked a while before I realized I was "in love".

I was part of an online community called Dragonwood, and it didn't take long for me to rise through the ranks. This took up more of my time, and I began talking to Zach less and less. Add that to the fact that my parents had quit their jobs, and that I hadn't told them yet. I had almost no time to talk to him.

I won't blame them though. The time that I did have to talk to Zach, I didn't. I was afraid to. I had caught the perfect man, and was afraid that now that I couldn't devote my time to him, he would drop me like I was nothing.

Every time I thought about him my heart leaped. From both fear, and from love. I began not talking to him at all. If he couldn't break up with me, we would still be together. Terrible logic, I know.

One day, about six months ago, I got on aol instant messenger. He was on. He began talking to me. It seemed nothing was wrong. I asked him what he had been up to. His response:

" Oh, nothing. I've been hangin out, and stuff. I buried my son."

I broke down. I had dreamed of raising Tyler, and I hadn't even been there for Zach when he needed me. Then another response:

"I lost my job, waiting for you to get on here."

More tears. I couldn't believe how horrible I'd been. Then another:

"Don't worry about me, I plan to kill myself in a couple weeks, on my birthday."

At this point I got angry. Suicide is the easy way out of a problem. I would never love a quitter.

I logged off. I couldn't handle it. It was too much. I emailed him a few times, but got very little back, but I could tell it was still him. But I stopped emailing him altogether.

I still don't know to this day if he really killed himself. I can only assume he did, although he may have not. I hope he didn't. I also still wonder if he just told me Tyler died to hurt me. It's likely, but how can I be sure?

This has weighed heavily on my conscience since that day, over the summer. I buried it, sure. I buried it with every other important thing in my life. I hide my emotions, most of the time. But, if it did happen, I realize I had an extremely large part in making it happen, and no one will ever convince me differently.