Bob was a school teacher in the New York City public school system. I think he was in his early fifties. For the last several months, people noticed that he was looking thinner and sickly, but he never went to see a doctor. This Monday he called in sick from work, and then today he was found dead in his apartment.
Bob never had a girlfriend. I know that he suffered from my problem, but other people don't understand that. "He must be gay" people said, and they assume that he died of AIDS. People just can't comprehend how a non-gay man could never have a girlfriend. But I know. Bob was a guy who was not only too shy to have a girlfriend, but he was too shy to even go see a doctor when he was obviously sick, and he paid for his problem with his life.
I only met Bob a few times, but still I am incredibly sad to find out about his death. And I know that I could turn out like Bob, a lonely man in his fifties who dies because he's afraid to go see the doctor. For every other type of illness there is medical research and public awareness, but Bob and I and others who suffer from male virginity suffer in anonymity and without anyone caring about our problem. In fact, I try to write about this honestly, and people call me a "shithead" because of it.
I'm glad I didn't find out about Bob until after my date with Rana, because then I would have felt bad all evening. The date involved some more tongue action while we were watching a movie. She really likes to touch me and kiss me. I think Rana might be able to save me from Bob's fate if I am able to overcome my fears and inhibitions and let her.