Body and Soul
by
Dr. Mario Dell'Olio
PROLOGUE
Our first touch sent shivers down my
spine as he gently pulled me closer; I can still feel the hairs at the base of
my neck rising as our cheeks grazed. The scent of him still lingers in my
memory, enchanting me as if I were inhaling in his very essence. Before him, I
didn’t know that it was possible to desire another person’s touch so
desperately, or to need unconditional approval and adoration so helplessly.
Before him, I couldn’t comprehend
the impact another man could have on my life and my future. I was 18 years old
and it was the most intense relationship I had ever had. I had never
encountered such intimacy. He consumed my every thought, my every desire. The
gravity of each struggle and the euphoria of each joy surpassed any that had
come before. Arguments were more heated; sadness, more poignant; and the
delight was ecstasy. I experienced and fiercely savored the depth of each and
every new emotion.
Somewhere in my mind I knew that this
was forbidden. Guys don’t kiss other guys. But desire prevailed and pushed that
thought, along with all others, far from my consciousness. I let my senses take
over and guide me the rest of the way. My lips tingled with anticipation until
they met his—not urgently, but tenderly exploring. What is this unfamiliar sensation?
They were lips like any others I had kissed, yet they felt completely different
and I was reeling with unexpected passion. That first tentative kiss was almost
reverent, drinking each other in as if from a sacred vessel. Once I had tasted,
I longed for more, and our kisses became more fervent and hungry. I wanted to
consume this man like no other being I had ever known. My need frightened me,
but I could do nothing but acquiesce.
I had never entertained the thought of
being with another guy, and I had never felt any sexual passion for girls; I
believed I wasn’t meant to be coupled. This served as confirmation that I was
meant to become a priest. I came from a traditional Catholic family and I was
always drawn to the priesthood. I also
knew that the Church taught against pre-marital sex. Though many of my friends
ridiculed the idea that a person shouldn’t have sex before marriage, I was not
bothered by it. It didn’t seem so arduous to me, and I wondered what all the
fuss was about. I was not as obsessed with sex as most other adolescents. That
all changed when I met him.
I couldn’t comprehend my fascination
with him, and I began to understand how a sexual relationship could become
totally consuming. Though there were many kisses before him, none reached more
deeply into my mind and my heart than his. I could have never imagined how this
relationship would change my life.
CHAPTER 1
Luca
Winter to Spring 1978
I had many girlfriends throughout my high school
years, yet no relationship lasted very long. I was fully engaged in the chase:
each budding romance brought excitement and challenge. My attention was easily
captured and I enjoyed every playful encounter I had with girls. They seemed to
connect with me more easily than my male friends. We would chat endlessly and
laugh without guile. My female friends would readily confide in me and I in
them, creating a familiar intimacy in each successive relationship. This led to
my numerous, but short-lived romantic flings.
My best friend John and I made a quick
study of flirting with any girls who were receptive. Sitting in the school
library, one of us would look up from our homework.
“Hey, I’m bored. Do you want to
go flirt?”
“What, and give up this
fascinating history essay? Twist my arm! There’s Susan. Let’s go.”
At that, we would run off to chat and
joke around with our classmates. It was always good-natured fun and we always
found a receptive audience. We were playful and silly, and our targeted
audience was quite entertained. The girls we interacted with knew we were
harmless: John had a girlfriend, and I was always with one girl or another.
They just enjoyed the silly banter, stupid jokes, and over-the-top compliments
we gave them.
“Hi Susan. What are you doing?” John
would begin.
Then I’d jump in. “Wow, you look great
in that blouse. Don’t you think so, John?”
“Luca, Susan always looks good!” John
insisted.
“Good one, John,” Susan interjected.
“You guys are crazy, completely shameless! Go bother someone else, I have work
to do,” she said as she laughed out loud.
“Oh, come on Susan, how could you be
so cruel?” I asked plaintively.
“Now you’ve done it. Luca is crushed
by your rejection,” John said.
“Alas, Luca, my heart is taken by
another,” Susan said, playing along.
“I’ll never forget you Susan! I will
wait a hundred years for you,” I replied.
“We’ll be back again tomorrow!” John
shouted, and off we’d go to another friend.
“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Susan said as she
chuckled and waved goodbye.
Connecting with a new, pretty girl
filled me with excitement. The dance would begin subtly with eye contact, and
then a bit of flirting, followed by a mutual expression of interest. I fully
enjoyed the deepening of each friendship as we shared our inner thoughts and
emotions. Friendships with other guys didn’t offer the same kind of emotional
connection. John was my best friend, but we rarely, if ever, shared our
feelings. I longed for deeper relationships, and the girls I dated gave me my
first taste of emotional intimacy.
Even so, I was largely indifferent as
each relationship waxed and waned. I quickly became infatuated, but my heart
always seemed to ache for some new love interest just as swiftly. There was
always something missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I recall
looking over at one of my girlfriends and thinking, Why don’t I want to be with
her anymore? She’s absolutely gorgeous. She’s smart and funny, and I really
like her. But I just don’t feel like going any further with her. I guess we’re
just not right for each other. Other times, though, I would simply ask myself,
What’s wrong with me? Why am I never satisfied with whomever I’m dating?
In some ways, my dating experience was
completely normal. I felt exhilarated by kissing my date and caressing each
other in my car at the end of the night. I enjoyed the euphoria of being with a
new girl and looked forward to our time alone. But I never sought more. I
simply wasn’t that interested in having sex.
One particular instance is burned in my
memory. I had been dating Beth for a month or so, and we were getting along
well. She was a sophomore and I was a senior. She was adorable with brilliant
red hair and green eyes, and hung onto my every word. We were always playful
and silly with each other. I reveled in
her admiration, and enjoyed the fact that I could simply be myself with her.
With Beth, I didn’t have to act like a certain kind of macho guy.
Often, a whole gang of friends would
go out together, and by the end of the evening many of us would pair off with
our respective dates. There was always a certain amount of showmanship that
accompanied our social interaction. There was competition to see who would be
the first to make out in a dark corner. Looking back, I recall being more interested
with what my buddies were doing than with the girl I was dating. Were they
making out? How far did they go? What were they doing now?
I was still dating Beth by the time my
senior prom rolled around. She was elated when I invited her. Not many sophomores
got asked by senior boys. Always an event planner, I had organized a pre-prom
gathering at my house. It was a non-alcoholic gathering, but my mother made
fresh homemade pizza, baked ziti, and many other delicious treats. No one
seemed to mind that there was no beer.
It was a warm June evening, and the
patio in our backyard provided the perfect backdrop to our gathering. Being an
amateur photographer, I staged each couple in front of a rhododendron that was
in full bloom. After everyone had their individual photo session, I arranged
all the girls on the deck looking down on their dates lined up below. They
laughed at my stage direction, but happily complied. John ribbed me
mercilessly, saying that I was worse than a wedding photographer. But I
relished every moment. It was my senior prom: I knew that it was a rite of
passage, and I wanted it to be perfect.
At the prom itself, I danced with many
of my friends and bounced from table to table, chatting with everyone. Beth
clung to me the entire evening and pouted each time I chose to dance with
someone else.
“Come on Beth, it’s not like you’re
sitting alone,” I said to her. “You’ve been dancing every time I have. We’ll
have some alone time later. For now, let’s be social, OK?”
“But I’m your date. You should be
dancing with me, not all these other girls,” she whined.
“Seriously, Beth? Everyone is dancing
with their other friends. That’s just what we do,” I explained impatiently. Her
neediness was annoying me, and I was beginning to realize that I was bored with
the relationship.
After the prom, it was customary for
couples to go down to the shoreline and park, with the goal being to watch the
sun come up after fooling around in the car all night. After Beth and I said
goodbye to our friends, we drove down to the river. The Hudson was beautiful,
and there were numerous hidden spots to park away from prying eyes. I had found
a clearing in the trees where we could see the moon reflected in the water. It
was incredibly romantic.
It was approximately 4 a.m. when we settled
in. Beth scooted over to me and removed my bowtie. I leaned in and began to
kiss her as she unbuttoned my ruffled shirt. We were getting hot and heavy, and
yet I felt as if I were simply going through the motions. As things progressed,
Beth became more and more assertive. She placed my hand on her breast, while
her hand reached between my legs. As she became more aroused, she slid her
spaghetti straps down her shoulders and lowered the top of her gown. It was
pleasant enough, but I began to lose interest. I just wasn’t into it, but I
knew that this was what was expected, so I played along. However, I wasn’t
making any moves to go further. Beth decided to take the lead as she unzipped
my pants and tugged at my briefs. Though I was aroused, I had no desire to have
sex with her.
“I need a breather,” I said as I began
to pull away.
“I don’t. I’ve been waiting for this
for a long time,” she said as she kissed my neck and down my chest.
It felt good, but I just couldn’t go
any further. I wiggled out of her embrace and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Hold on Beth. It’s 5 a.m., and I’m
exhausted. Let’s just call it a night, OK?”
She lifted her head and look at me in
disbelief. It sounded like I was rejecting her affection. She had trouble
taking no for an answer and continued to caress me. With a mischievous smile on
her face, she unfastened my pants, and her hands reached down to grabbed hold
of me. I jumped at her forceful grip and pulled away immediately.
“No, Beth! Let’s not. I think it’s
time to head home.”
“What’s the matter, Luca? Don’t you
like me anymore?” She said as she placed her hand on me once again. I gently
put my hand over hers and moved it away.
“Look, it’s not that. I’m just tired.
It’s been a very long night and I need to get home.”
She knew I was lying, but couldn’t
understand why. Any other boy would have jumped at her willingness to have sex.
I could practically hear the questions running through her head: Is there
something wrong with me? Why is he treating me like this? We were silent for the
entire drive home.
In the weeks that followed, she began
to resent me. I had rejected her and she felt humiliated. She could tell I
wasn’t attracted to her anymore. I knew there was no hope of repairing our
relationship, and we broke up shortly before graduation. In my mind, there was
nothing unusual about how we ended things. Every relationship I’d had with a
girl had ended in a similar way. At a certain point, I just began to lose
interest. Never did I suspect that I might be more interested in boys. That
concept was completely foreign to me.
I didn’t reflect on my feelings all
that much. I was enjoying the end of my high school years and looking forward
to new adventures in college. Worrying about girls wasn’t at the top of my
list. Little did I know that there would be cataclysmic changes ahead of me.
College life would bring many new experiences that would capture my attention
and rock my small, comfortable world.
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