New Daze....

I, I who have nothing, I, I who have no one
Must watch you go dancing by
Wrapped in the arms of somebody else when darling, it's I
Who loves you, who loves you
Who loves you

1992.  11 years since I had run away from home.  They were the best days of my life and they had been the worst days of my life.  I think the best way to sum it up is by using a line from Star Trek 'It's life Jim, but not as we know it'.

Suddenly my life was taking a whole new turn.  Christine moved in around the same time that I graduated from University with my teaching diploma.  I had managed to not only complete the course but come out with an above average score - unfortunately not enough to get me an immediate teaching placement.  I would be put on a waiting list for casual teachers and had to hope that the offers would start coming in.

I kept my shifts at the taxi company as they worked in well with possible teaching offers.  I still had 4 nights and one day work which allowed me to accept any offers of day to day teaching which came up.  Nothing came up for the first 3 months.  I would later learn that the first term of school is a time when teachers rarely take time off but I didn't know that at the time and my self esteem was starting to take a battering.

Along with this was the new home life which I had to try and adjust to.  Even though I was only home 3 nights a week and for a short while on Saturday mornings it was hard to accept the change in Matty and my relationship. To make matters worse everyone at the Taxi company was aghast at the sudden change in mine and Matty's relationship.  They were all used to Matty's occasional flings with girls but couldn't get their head around him taking up with Christine.

Watching him and Christine kiss and cuddle all night long, seeing her run around after him like a love sick puppy and worst of all hearing them at nights making love in the room right next to me. I was certain that she deliberately groaned as loud as possible just to upset me and then the following morning she had that smug look upon her face as if to say 'he's mine'.  For the first time in 7 years I was playing second fiddle to Matty and it was hard to accept.

I didn't dislike Christine, in fact I tried really hard to be her friend, but deep down I knew she resented my presence, resented my close ties with Matty and slowly but surely started creating rifts between us. She wasn't a pot smoker and within a few months she made it clear that she didn't want Matty smoking.  Unknown to her his frequent bouts of sickness, which had re-started, scared him enough to decide to quit smoking pot.  I was told that from then on I could only smoke in my bedroom. Of course he was just playing a game with her and on many occasions would slip into my room to share a few bongs - she never complained directly but her reactions made it clear that she was not only upset but saw me as a bad influence.

She began to instil her own routines for cooking and cleaning which just didn't fit into my schedule.  Even though I was home alone most days and had the house clean and sparkling every day she started complaining to Matty that I wasn't helping her.  It was useless pointing out that when she cleaned I was at work or still sleeping after a late night shift (I was deliberately doing as much overtime as possible) and that she was only re-cleaning a spotless house anyway.

There seemed to be no compromise so I began to spend most of my free time out of the house.  I started spending time with friends from work and it was here that I met my best friend Kylie who would be a good friend for the next 10 years.

She was totally not my type of person.  Lived in the suburbs, had a passion for 1970's rock bands and was straight!  But she was lovely.  Her mother was on welfare and had two other children, both grown up and all by different fathers.  They were a strange family but loving and welcoming and I could go there and smoke pot with them all and pretend that this was my family - we were really that close.

One day whilst I was at Kylie's we were getting stoned and watching TV.  An add came on announcing that there were still seats available for that afternoons taping.  In a stoned moment we decided to ring up and get tickets.  The TV station was only a 10 minute drive away.  Sitting in the audience ready to watch the filming of 'Supermarket Sweep' the announcer said 'Will the man with the jar of Cottee's Marmalade come on down?" It took me quite a few seconds to realise that I was the 'man' and Kylie and I went running down the stairs and made our television debut.

It was an absolute hoot.  Being stoned my reflexes took some time to get into gear before I was hitting the buzzer and getting every question correct.  The Host and his beautiful assistant took an instant liking to us and between breaks spent their time chatting to us and almost ignoring the other 4 contestants.  When the finale came and I had to run around the 'supermarket' filling the trolley with as many items as possible the announcer called out "look at that boy shop!"  It was true - I was racing down the aisles and stuffing my trolley with as many items as I could grab.  It was the best minute of my life.  We didn't win as one of the other contestants managed to snag the mystery item which gave them bonus points.  We won a bed set with a matching doona which we had to share.

I remember coming home all excited and telling Matty and Christine about it.  Christine replied 'did you really go on that dreadful show stoned? How embarrassing'. 

My other escape was in the evenings when I wasn't working.  It started out quite innocently but became a regular habit which was both dangerous and exciting.  I used to walk up to Newtown to buy dinner.  To get there I had to go through Newtown Park which is an old cemetery and had become a regular gay beat.  The park is a beautiful oasis surrounded by old, tiny Victorian terraces crammed cheek to jowl.  Originally the cemetary took up  the whole park but at some stage the headstones were taken up and all put within the original church walls which form the top corner of the park.

I started off buying dinner and sitting in the park to eat it.  It wasn't long before I realised that the looks I was getting from men walking past were more than friendly.  Believe it or not I had never done a beat in my life.  I hadn't really had the need to and the ones that I knew of were the typical grungy toilet blocks with 'dirty old men' lurking around - it just wasn't my type of thing.

But 11 years of sex on tap had been over for a few years and I could count on one hand the number of times I had sex with Matty during that time.  The need was there and it wasn't long before I was hooked.  This was just an extension of my personality - no matter what it was I couldn't get enough, whether it was drugs or sex, it would be a recurring theme for many years.  

I  soon realised that I needed to head out later than I had been, especially as it was summer and the evenings were still light until 8pm.  I would stay in my bedroom each evening getting stoned and then roll a few joints to take with me.

During my childhood Newtown had been a 'slum' suburb on the edge of the city.  It's inhabitants were a mixture of old time working class or unemployed Australians and Greek immigrants, plus lots of crumbling second hand furniture stores.  By the early 90's it was going through it's first stage of urban renewal, with, as was typical, the gay community being the first to start moving in.  It was a beautiful suburb.  One of the oldest in Sydney and full of an amazing mix of old Colonial mansions, working class terraces, warehouses and lovely tree lined streets.  I loved every nook and cranny of it and soon knew almost every street intimately.

My evenings out were not only a blissful escape from having to watch Matty and Christine's sickening infatuation, but also a much needed release for my sexual frustration. I never went home unsatisfied, I was very particular about who I chose to have sex with and soon had a regular retinue of boys who would come and go.  Having sex in the dark, foreboding grounds of the church cemetery was a thrill which I really enjoyed.  During the daytime I often took my dog there and spent my time reading the amazing and sad epitaphs which outlined the hard but interesting lives of the early settlers.

It didn't take long for Matty to start asking what I was doing out every night. I told him that I was going out to dinner then drinking at the Newtown Hotel, which was a gay bar.  He wasn't really concerned that I wasn't home - he was just feeling scorned that I wasn't spending time with him any more.  I told him that as Christine had restricted my 'one pleasure' (smoking pot) in my own home that I preferred going out where I felt more comfortable.  When he said but you can still smoke in your room I told him that that made me feel even more uncomfortable and like a school kid, having  to hide in my room to smoke.

What I didn't tell him was that I was truly happy to be away from both of them and that for the first time in years I didn't feel scared or pressured to be at his beck and call.  Maybe he realised this for not long after things began to change for us again.....

CHANGING DAZE....(part 3)

'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again

Oh yes, I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong

So inevitably change came in unexpected ways. 

 

I always loved Matty, but at times he terrified me and made me hate him. There had been many occasions when I truly wished that he would just die.  Then of course guilt set in and he would be his loving, kind and generous self and my feelings would change.  Bullies always have a way of making you believe that you are the antagonist rather than the protagonist.

 

One night I returned home after a full day at university and an evening shift at the taxi company.  The house stank of smoke and I walked in to find Matty asleep in the lounge and a pan of oil burning furiously in the kitchen.  Smoke and soot were filling the house and it was only by luck that I arrived early enough to stop the kitchen from catching fire.

 

 

 

With the fire under control and the smoke clearing I woke Matty and probably yelled at him - I don't really remember.  The next thing I knew he was laying into me, punches flying and him telling me that it was my fault!   I'm not sure how he justified that to himself but it was may fault anyway.  I spent an hour trying to clear the blackened kitchen cabinets and when I realised that no amount of scrubbing was going to clean the smoke and soot marks I told him that we would have to report it to the Real Estate Agent.

He grabbed my by the hair and slammed my head against the cupboard, telling me that I had to have it clean before I went to sleep.  So I spent an hour quietly cleaning and when I was sure he was asleep I stopped and went to bed.  In the morning, after only about 4 hours sleep I woke up and began trying to clean again.  Matty woke up, full of apologies and kisses and told me he would fix it as he had decided to take the day off work.

I said I would help him.  Amazingly he started at me again demanding that I go to my university class.  I was stunned.  Bruised, battered and with a large graze running across my forehead from where he had slammed my face into the cupboard, the last thing I wanted was for anyone to see me.  He virtually pushed me out of the door and threatened to ring my lecturer to make sure I attended.  If I hadn't attended I knew what to expect.

 

So I went.  Thankfully it was a practical class not a lecture and ironically it was a Child Psychology class.  Giving excuses of having fallen off my motorbike I got through the 2 hour lesson.  When it was over the lecturer asked me to stay behind.  She was very direct and asked me who had hit me.  When I repeated my made up story she quietly put her arms around me.  At this point I fell to pieces and told her the whole story. Her advice was the turning point in my relationship with Matty.

Finally having someone to talk to and someone who assured me that the only fault I had was in putting up with the beatings and that I was the victim gave me a new outlook on the reality of my life.

The next time Matty hit me would earn a different reaction from me.  Again I had returned home from work and Matty was awake.  When I sat down to have bong he jumped up and grabbed it from me. 'Why haven't you ironed my uniform for the morning?'......this time I refused to cower and jump to his demands.  'I have been at uni all day and then worked 6 hours, I will iron your uniform but not until I have had a few cones', was my reply.

Matty wasn't sure how to react to this.  We shared a few cones and then Matty said he was going to bed.  I didn't have uni the following morning so I continued smoking, enjoying the solitude and the joy of just doing nothing for the first time all day.  Suddenly he was out of the room and on seeing his ironing still not done he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out to the kitchen.

 

 

Demanding that I iron immediately he picked up the iron and swung it at my head.  The blow was stunning.  I hit the wall and saw stars, I could feel something warm trickling down my face, obviously my own blood.  Senseless to my pain and shock he plugged the iron in and told me to have his uniform ironed  immediately.  I picked my self up and began ironing.  Matty left me and went back to the lounge room.  As I was ironing I could hear him tell me I had 4 minutes to finish, 3 minutes to finish.....

I made a snap decision.  The kitchen door which led outside was open. I quietly stepped outside and gingerly opened the back gate.  Then I ran as fast as I could up the street.  Terrified that he would follow me I zig-zagged my way up hill through the narrow lanes and back streets until I reached the Newtown Police Station.

I didn't have the courage to go in.  Sitting instead on the park bench just one house away from the station.  It was 1am and the streets were deserted.  I didn't quite trust the police to take my complaint seriously - it was still a time when gays were treated with indifference and intolerance.  So I sat and sat, I cried, I tried to pluck up the courage to end it all and simply walk inside the Police Station and have Matty arrested for assault.  I couldn't.

Of course, he eventually appeared, walking calmly towards me with his arms outstretched.  I jumped and started towards the station.  He gently called my name and asked me to just speak with him.  I did.  He promised to never hit me again, promised to treat me with respect, asked me for another chance.  I told him that he only had one more chance and that if it happened again I would have him arrested.

We walked home, we smoked bongs, he kept apologizing, we slept together for the first time in months.  The following day he did all the housework, cooked dinner and even packed cones for me.  In fact he did everything that he would normally have demanded of me.  It seemed things were changing after all.

The next change came only a few weeks later.  The owners of our rented house were returning from England and wanted to move into the house.  We still had a 3 month rental contract but the estate agent assured us that not only would they refund our bond in full but they also had another house available which we could view.

The house was directly opposite where we were living, across the street and one house down.  It was a beautiful Federation house, much bigger than the one we were currently in and much nicer (on first look).  It was $60 more than our current rent but we decided we could afford it and moved in.

Never move two houses away!  Not only will the removal companies refuse to do the job, but having to move your entire house across the road is a nightmare.  We literally carried every stick of furniture from one house to the other.  It was a 12 hour ordeal, fuelled by lots of speed and marijuana breaks.

The house was lovely.  Two large bedrooms at the front, a long corridor leading to a large lounge which had beautifully moulded cathedral ceilings, another large reception room behind that which had a small outside side balcony area, and a modern kitchen and bathroom at the back.  The garden at the back was small but beautifully planted on the sides with a small grass patch in the middle, at the end of the property was a huge double garage which could be entered from the back lane.

Matty let me have the front bedroom, which had a huge bay window where I could fit my double bed.  Leaving me a whole room to put a lounge and coffee table in facing the ornate, working fireplace.  This was to become my sanctuary as other factors soon arose which  caused life changes.

 

Matty had started regularly dating one of the girls from the taxi company.  She was a lovely girl but very plain looking and very old - fashioned.  Totally unlike any of the people we would normally mix with.  Even though I was used to Matty's constant switching from having a relationship with me to having sex with girls, I was mortified that this boring, ugly girl was taking my place in his affections.  It was a big dent to my ego and my reaction was to start retreating into my bedroom or simply spend time out of the house whenever she was there.

 

 

Within a few months Matty had asked her to move in with us.  He didn't consult me but explained that it would be cheaper with 3 of us sharing, and he needed someone who would take care of him as I was always busy with work and uni.  I had never stopped taking care of him.  I did all the housework, the washing, the cooking.  If I was working in the evening then I always had food prepared for him to heat up for his dinner.......

 

At that stage he had been relatively healthy for some months.  His T-cell count was high and he had had few health problems. Initially I was angry but hid my anger as best I could.  Sitting alone in my 'sanctuary' it dawned upon me, in a stoned moment, that with Christine there he would have another person to take his anger out on instead of me.  It was a very selfish and uncharitable decision but I decided to make the most of it while I could. 

 

So Christine moved in with us.  For a few weeks life was normal and followed our usual routine.  Slowly things began to change and a new stage of my life was beginning.