My bully punched me in the stomach a few times in PE in the 8th grade and called me "faggot". I was an OK athlete and no one else thought I was gay. Knocked the wind out of me. I became afraid of him -- it really hurt. And also afraid I'd be "found out".
He was tall and quite cute, and could be even very affectionate. And a bit lispy. But he was also the hyperactive, ADD, impulsive type.
Then we went to the same high school, but was mostly able to avoid him because I was in college track classes and he was in the ones for average students.
He used to try to intimidate me in the hallways by raising a fist. I'd respond with cock sucking gestures and winks.
But we were both on the baseball team. Jamie screwed up one game, I did well, and he knocked the wind out of me in the locker room, called me faggot, then gave me a bloody nose. My team mates knocked him to the ground, directed me to kick him in the balls (which I did) and said "Don't beat on me anymore, asshole!" as he lay there crying. We were all suspended. My Mom was a pacifist: "Oh, just be nice, dear".
This was Junior year. Harvey Milk and Mayor Moscone had been assassinated. I told the hippy principal that I'm gay, some of the teachers are, too, and not going to take any bullshit. I was an honor student.
We avoided each other for the rest of high school. But I did sort of live in fear of "being caught" and getting punched in the stomach again, or worse.
Was not nearly as disgustingly abused as so many have posted. Especially can't imagine being trapped in a small town in a Red state. Plus, it helped that I was able to cut school and drive across the bridge into SF and hang out in gay bars when I was 16. Everyone told me to keep butching it up until graduation.
At our 25 year reunion, Jamie stumbled into the people I was talking to. He was balding and chubby, but still cute. I'd never looked better in my life and was with my handsome partner.
Jamie looked at my name tag and said "Oh, I remember you, you look great, how are you?". Introduced him to my partner (who'd heard me bitch about Jamie for 19 years).
Jamie was glad to meet him. First thing he said was how sorry he was. His wife was home with the kids back in the shitty suburb. Kept buying us drinks and said that he's "slightly bisexual". But too old to fool around in The Castro anymore. No surprise. He seemed obsessed with homosexuality.
Classmates commented how we were kissing and making up. My bff, hag, and beard said something like "one more drink and the three of you will end up getting a room tonight". The whole thing was so healing.
And yes, he figured I had a crush on him in the 8th grade.
No longer think about him. And I usually don't have to "butch it up".