I want to share my story. I am now 63 yrs old, and I feel my story may help others. At age 16 I came to the USA from Belgium. I had already earned a scholarship to University of Madrid, Spain, but wanted to experience the United States. So I delayed my scholarship and at 17 yrs old entered Michigan State University for one year. I am 6’3″ and at the time was 185lbs and my favorite sport was Rugby. At a ‘mixer’ I was standing against the wall, feeling very awkward since my English still needed some improvement, and so much of American culture was still unknown to me. I happened to notice a tall (6’2″!) beautiful woman standing against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Our eyes met, and we started walking toward each other. We met in the middle of the room and when we were standing there, looking at each other she said “We match!” From that day on there was no one else for me. She was almost two years older than me and I initially lied about my age. We started being together and then got a place together ( this was 1969). Against the wishes of both of our families we married the next year, and being young and stupid we had a son the next year, when I had to go to Spain to accept my scholarship. I attended University, played Rugby and taught English to pay for my living expenses and came back to the U.S. at Christmas and for a few months during the summer. Her parents helped us out Tremendously so she could continue her studies. I finished my dual degree in Literature and Linguistics and came back to the U.S., and then joined the Air Force to more quickly get my citizenship. By the time I got out of the military she was finishing her PhD in Electrical Engeneering. To make a long story short, we had a wonderful life! Our son (6’9″) was a musician, athlete and scholar. Then, after 21 wonderful years I lost her to breast cancer. I went into a deep depression. My son in a way was worse off. He and my wife had a much close relationship since I was absent during the early years of his life. About fours years after her death, this couple we had been very good friends with divorced. They had been our very best friends since she was also a scholar, and he was a jock like me. After their divorce, he and I hung out and would drink together. I went through what my son called my ‘slut stage’ since my buddy and I would go out and drink and pick up women. One night after drinking too much, my buddy spent the night at my place. I woke up the next morning and he was in bed with me. One thing led to another and we had sex. We never talked about it, but for the next two years we had a relationship. Eventually he moved away because of a promotion. I have not been with anyone since then. Now, it is twenty years later. In the intervening years I lost my son to an accident and my granddaughter to leukemia. I am alone. But I am doing OK. I continue being a banker. I look back on my life now and sometimes can’t rationalize it. When I was with my wife I never thought about men. When I was with my buddy, he was everything to me. Am I straight? Am I gay? I have come the the conclusion that I am just a man who had two wonderful relationships and how they are categorized makes no difference me. I have now been celibate for almost 20 years. I have been a mentor and teacher to those around me, although none of them know of my sexual past. Do I miss physical contact? Yes. Do I crave it? No. I feel I had the best of both worlds while it lasted and I am happy with that.