After moving to Vancouver, I had high hopes. It all went downhill when the people I thought were my friends turned out to be strangers in bastards clothing. We clashed horribly, all because a gay roommate lied about being honest to another young roommate who badgered me daily about him. If I were indeed malicious, as he so falsely accused me, I'd have said something a long time ago, without her asking, and especially if it were none of her business.

I attempted to move out, and found a friend also from Winnipeg and a struggling actor. We agreed to find a place together, but he expected me to do all the work, and when the deadline for me to move out came, I was encouraged to ditch him. That was the hardest thing to do, and eventhough he became a bastard for awhile, he buried the hatchett and we made up.

I lived with an alcoholic woman on welfare, who helped me out with it. Standing in the food bank line for the first time was very depressing. During my hetero phase, I was interested in guys and sleeping with them, but they didn't care about me at all. One guy, after having sex with me, stole 20 bucks from my dresser, then days later told me he was getting married to some other girl. My choice in partners was terrible, and still is.

Most of the time, I was under the poverty line, filing for welfare, finding a part time job, having a few bucks in my account. After moving into one particular building, I had a funny feeling about one guy who had an angry expression on his face alot, 'going aggro' as most people accused him of. A week before christmas, when I was seeing this girl for a few months, he suggested that the next time I went to a particular lesbian bar to take him along, so I did. Maybe that was a mistake. We went there, and I saw my girlfriend there, started dancing with her, and my male friend left with a look of distaste. For a week, he looked at me with that same look until Christmas day, when he wanted me to help him with the Christmas turkey for the building, as someone is always assigned that duty. I went in there, and he lunged at me, insisting we have sex. I made it clear that I didn't want to, but he said, "You're saying no, but you're losing!" He laughed after that, and I felt beaten. You can guess what happened after that, and I felt filthy, while he went away feeling relieved, bragging to a friend in the kitchen.

Two days later, he wanted to have a chat with me, saying that it was consentual, that I wanted it and that it was the best sex I ever had. That day was worse than the actual incident. Our mutual friends didn't want to believe it, that this "Decent Guy" would do such a thing, and their ignorance and denial only aggravated me and widened the scar that asshole inflicted on me: I was labelled a trouble-maker after that while he got away with it. He's on my mental hit list.

I'm still dealing with that ugly incident, even after I came out to a friend of mine, who said I became gay because Of bad experiences in the past, so I have another emotional bruise to deal with. How do you respect someone who says an ignorant thing like that?

That's just the scum off the top of my life, not including the good times and opportunities I will always treasure. After all that, I don't hate Vancouver.

I may erase this entry and do another one. I hate thinking of it.