The Glass Closet

In trying to give me situation a name I think that I have finally settled on "the glass closet." I needed something that describes the gay man who isn't in the closet or out of it, but as out as the emotional baggage and religious obligation will allow.  The man in the the glass closet is transparent to those around him, open and honest, but is forced to run at the first sign of any real contact with another man. 

My diagnosis, while self fitting, has come from my observations of my roommate. We are indeed birds of a feather, the only major difference being I have only recently left the comfort of hiding in a small, conservative Texas town and he has been free of that for some time. Watching him makes me fear the time when I might have to wear the same shoes and make the same choices. 

Watching him, struggle, wanting to be happy and not being able to find the happiness in the arms of some one else. Left to wonder. 

I know this is only the beginning of my journey in the glass closet. Not knowing where it might end, I have made a promise to track the journey to its end. And see what happens. For me and my roommate.