Well, looks like there's nothing much coming through on the pipeline today. E-mail inbox is empty, no incoming calls for the last half hour... I think I'm good to take a break for a while. While it can be incredibly aggravating to have to deal with these idiots I call my clients when they screw something up, it can be nice when they don't have any problems for once. And what the hey, it's nice outside, I might as well take some time and check up on the yard, do some watering and all that stuff, maybe just relax and catch some rays on the patio. If anyone calls, it can just go to voicemail; that's my privilege as a consultant.
Indeed, as I head out of my cozy little house smack in the middle of suburbia, it is indeed a wonderful day—the sun is shining overhead, there's not a cloud to be seen, and the temperature is a modest warmth rather than a sweltering heat—absolutely perfect. So I go about my business, giving my little patch of flowers a bit of water and such, when I spot my new next door neighbor, Nathan, checking his mail. I call out to him in greeting, as is the neighborly thing to do. Sure, he's only been here for about a week now, but it seems like he's definitely been settling in quite well. I'm particularly impressed with the little pond—the last guy that owned this place didn't take care of it at all, but just from looking at it now, I can tell Nathan's a lot more diligent.
At first, he shirks back a bit in surprise, as if not expecting to be talked to, but catches himself. "Ah, y-yes, hello, Aiden. A wonderful day today, is it not?" he replies, some nervousness in his voice, but still friendly enough. I have noticed in interacting with him that he's a bit fidgety, but I guess he's just a bit shy, which is fine, I'm sure he'll warm up eventually.
"Yeah, it's great. A great day to fix up the yard. Actually, speaking of that, I really like what you've done with your pond. That's a really great job, man," I praise him. Hey, if someone's doing a good job, then they deserve to know that.
But the reaction I get is quite surprising. Like, what's the usual response to praise? A smile and vague acknowledgement? Instead, there's an expression of, I don't know, childish glee? "R-Really? You... you think so?" he asks, the tone in his voice sounding like he's never been told he's done a good job before in his life.
"Um, yeah. You look like you've got a real green thumb. The last guy didn't really take care of the place, so I'm glad to see you fix it up," I reply, and again, he acts strangely. He looks away, covering his mouth, and it sounds like he's trying to cover up some heavy breathing. It takes a bit for him to catch himself, and when he does, he just gives me a quick thanks before making an excuse and heading back inside. What the hell was that about? Similar things happen over the course of the next week, with me doing the neighborly thing and complimenting Nathan on something, and him reacting in a way that seems just a little bit too much like he's getting off on it. But that can't be true, right? That'd just be... weird. In the end, I think nothing of it, just assuming that he's really socially awkward.
However, one day, he surprises me. It's a lazy Saturday afternoon, and I'm relaxing in a lawn chair when Nathan comes over to the fence that separates our yards. "Um, hey, Aiden, could, uh, could you come over to my place for a bit? I've got something I want to talk to you about," he says, sounding remarkably serious. I'm not sure what I'm getting myself into, but he's a good guy, so if he wants to talk, then, sure, we can talk. So I follow him along into his house, and the two of us sit down in his living room. Looking around, I note a few specific things—a crucifix hanging on the wall and a weathered Bible on a side table, with several bookmarks hanging out of it. It's only now that I really take note of the cross necklace hanging around his neck as well, primarily because he's holding it in his hands, silently staring at it. And then, he begins to speak, and he doesn't stop for a while. In a way, I can't shake the feeling that this is something that has been building up inside of him for a long time.
We start with his childhood, and like I expected, he was raised in a religious household, and that's still sticking with him. I learn that his parents would intentionally not praise him because of some sort of ideological concept as to what being a good Christian is like that they made up in their head. Because of that, he was starved of any sort of positive feedback, and that's why he reacted the way he did when I praised him—it's just such a new sensation to him. Complicating matters is that he's been carrying something else inside of him for a few years now, and that is latent homosexuality. While he has not gotten into any relationships yet, he's spent many sleepless nights thinking about it, and he can't come to any other conclusion but that he's very likely gay, which is a problem when you're brought up in an environment that tells you that all gay people go to Hell. So not only is his self-worth completely shot, he's also agonizing over whether his sexual preference is going to lead him to eternal damnation. And I just happen to be the guy that's been giving him some actual validation, even if it is remarkably mundane.
"Whenever you'd praise me for my gardenwork, or the color I painted the house walls... it felt so, so good, Aiden. I know it's not supposed to feel this good, but it just does. So... can you please praise me more?" he asks, an utterly pitiful look on his face.
This is incredibly weird, and yet, I can't resist. Just listening to him talk, I want to help him out. "You're a wonderful person, Nathan, and you deserve so much better. Someone like you deserves to find a beautiful boyfriend and live happily together with him," I tell him, my voice as soft and gentle as I can muster.
The reaction is instant, and he pinches his eyes shut, a blush rising to his cheeks as he begins to pant. "Oh... oh, yes. Oh, that's good..." he mutters. "More... I need more..."