I can't remember how old I was when I first took an interest in writing but I remember being in primary school at age 6 when poetry and creative writing were first introduced as part of my school work. The stories I wrote at that age weren't exactly Shakespearean in calibre that much I can remember, but the stories themselves are lost to time. I didn't have the foresight to keep everything I wrote at that age, I wasn't exactly fond of school and there was no impetus to preserve the memory of it. I've mentioned before how I was bullied and ostracised for being different, mainly due to my disability caused by my visual impairment but I'm sure more than a few had already figured out I was gay as much as I was in denial at the time and believed that nobody could tell.
As a gay man when you are in the closet it can be hard to tell whether the people around you really are oblivious to your sexuality or if you live in a glass closet and the people around you just don't care. When you first come out there are always those who claim to have always known but they never gave any indication, and those who claim they never suspected and yet they were often the ones who spent the most time nudging you closer to that decision to share that part of your life with them.
