Vincent
March 23, 1873
After studying philosophy at the Frederick William University in Germany, I decided to move to the America, enchanted by the prospective promises it held. I set up an establishment within a small district of New England, offering the study and analysis of human behavior. There, I met up with a strange child by the name of Vincent; his ears were long and pointed, as if stretched out in some barbaric ritual. I took him under my wing, allowing him to live with me on the floor above my office, which I used as my living quarters, quite comfortably, I must add. I soon began to realize that this young man, although he had the basic earthly animal instincts as well as everything that would classify him as a human being, was not a human at all. His aging seemed to speed and slow at times, unlike anything I would have expected. Fearful of what curious minds might do to him, I kept him confined to the upper floor, occasionally taking him out when everything was clear and letting him watch me work. I also had the pleasure of teaching him, although it was mostly within my own degree of education.
As Vincent grew I saw him as less of a son and more as my closest friend. I could always talk to him casually about my days and my feelings, and he would sit and listen, sometimes impatient, but ever respectful. He seemed fascinated by me; almost too much so, as if infatuated. Brushing it off as a mere adolescent behavior, I continued on, he by my side, as I unconsciously fueled his desires to be closer to me.
Vincent was a smart, attentive man, a mind open to new ideas. He would observe my own behaviors, in fact, and soon after I met Cathleen, my wife, he began questioning me about our behaviors, much to my embarrassment and dismay. One day, he approached me on my break, asking about our showing of affections. I explained to Vincent that a kiss was meant for people you love and care for in deep ways. That was when he leaned across my desk and kissed me. To say the least, I was startled and taken aback, but quickly thought of it as just innocent ignorance. Quickly though, Vincent turned the kiss into much more than I would've expected from him. I felt his passion, and much to my surprise, I enjoyed it.
Thus I came to the conclusion homosexual tendencies may be nurtured during younger years, however, a confused child makes this decision on it's own to act upon these. I myself was raised with the severe strictness and disdain of homosexual activities, and thought of myself as a man attracted to women. I appear to be wrong, and that being with Vincent has changed my orientations to that of him and women. Cathleen will always be my love, and I think she knew before I did that Vincent lusted after me, and that I had feelings for him too.
(For the most part, I feel females are more in-tune to emotions than us males. Having lived with her for nearly a decade has made me realize this.)
Ah, the night is late and Cathleen beckons me to bed. I will return to my writings tomorrow.
~Faustus Brackenwell
After studying philosophy at the Frederick William University in Germany, I decided to move to the America, enchanted by the prospective promises it held. I set up an establishment within a small district of New England, offering the study and analysis of human behavior. There, I met up with a strange child by the name of Vincent; his ears were long and pointed, as if stretched out in some barbaric ritual. I took him under my wing, allowing him to live with me on the floor above my office, which I used as my living quarters, quite comfortably, I must add. I soon began to realize that this young man, although he had the basic earthly animal instincts as well as everything that would classify him as a human being, was not a human at all. His aging seemed to speed and slow at times, unlike anything I would have expected. Fearful of what curious minds might do to him, I kept him confined to the upper floor, occasionally taking him out when everything was clear and letting him watch me work. I also had the pleasure of teaching him, although it was mostly within my own degree of education.
As Vincent grew I saw him as less of a son and more as my closest friend. I could always talk to him casually about my days and my feelings, and he would sit and listen, sometimes impatient, but ever respectful. He seemed fascinated by me; almost too much so, as if infatuated. Brushing it off as a mere adolescent behavior, I continued on, he by my side, as I unconsciously fueled his desires to be closer to me.
Vincent was a smart, attentive man, a mind open to new ideas. He would observe my own behaviors, in fact, and soon after I met Cathleen, my wife, he began questioning me about our behaviors, much to my embarrassment and dismay. One day, he approached me on my break, asking about our showing of affections. I explained to Vincent that a kiss was meant for people you love and care for in deep ways. That was when he leaned across my desk and kissed me. To say the least, I was startled and taken aback, but quickly thought of it as just innocent ignorance. Quickly though, Vincent turned the kiss into much more than I would've expected from him. I felt his passion, and much to my surprise, I enjoyed it.
Thus I came to the conclusion homosexual tendencies may be nurtured during younger years, however, a confused child makes this decision on it's own to act upon these. I myself was raised with the severe strictness and disdain of homosexual activities, and thought of myself as a man attracted to women. I appear to be wrong, and that being with Vincent has changed my orientations to that of him and women. Cathleen will always be my love, and I think she knew before I did that Vincent lusted after me, and that I had feelings for him too.
(For the most part, I feel females are more in-tune to emotions than us males. Having lived with her for nearly a decade has made me realize this.)
Ah, the night is late and Cathleen beckons me to bed. I will return to my writings tomorrow.
~Faustus Brackenwell