I met him in my freshman year of college. We were at a nightclub near West Hollywood that was frequented by underage kids who wanted to feel cool.
Griffin leaned back at the table next to a dozen fraternity brethren. Underneath was a clear glass bottle in a bucket of ice. A female friend who came with me introduced me to Griffin and some of his brothers. She was a kappa from the University of Southern California and he was Lambda.
“Isn’t he hot?” she yelled in my ear. “A few months ago, I tried to hang out with him at a reunion party, and you know what I mean, he started flirting.” I understand
It hadn’t come out of the closet yet. I’ve been excited about men since I was 13, but I told myself I would only come out when I had deep feelings for another man. At that time, I had never experienced the feeling of having a crush, the feeling of someone being obsessed with you and constantly fantasizing about your future life together. Without that feeling, I realized that I would never be able to admit to myself or others that I was gay.
That night when I met Griffin, I felt that feeling for the first time. I couldn’t help but stare at him from across the dance floor. Not only was he physically perfect, with a sharp jawline and gorgeous eyelashes, he was the man I aspired to be: gay and openly accepted by a large group of male friends. It embodied the person who can be. It was something I had never experienced before. I wanted him and wanted to be him right away.
At the time, I was living in my sister’s apartment and sleeping in her guest bedroom. She was traveling with her boyfriend. Thankfully, her apartment was a short distance from the nightclub. We found Griffin later and ended up spending the night together.
Then I found out I was gay and it was time to come out of the closet. I dreamed of dating him but there was only one problem he had. He was due to leave in the summer and return to Texas. But that didn’t stop me from being completely infatuated with him.
I was already scheduled to transfer from the University of Santa Monica to the University of Southern California in the fall. I had always wanted to go to USC, but there was a big reason why I wanted to enroll. I wanted Griffin’s life – I wanted him to be popular in a prestigious college fraternity and openly gay. And of course I wanted him. All I could think about that summer was him.
In August, I walked up the stairs of his fraternity house on the first day of Rush. My hands trembled as I thought about what the second exchange would be. I found him standing in Lambda Kai Alpha’s dirty, beer-smelling party atrium, chatting with some of the other Razzies.
“Hello, Griffin,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets to hide my nervousness.
“Tanner!” he replied as if he hadn’t seen me in years. “how are you?”
We kept chatting until it was trivial. “Well, nice to meet you,” I said.
At the end of the rush, I joined another fraternity that suited my personality better. Considered the first openly gay brother at Tau Kappa Epsilon at the University of Southern California, I finally felt accepted by a large group of men. It was something I had always wanted but had never experienced in my adolescence.
I was obsessed with Griffin all through my sophomore year. We’d run into each other at parties and off-campus bars. We ended up going home together a few times, but I was always so nervous that I couldn’t ask for anything more.
In retrospect he could have found I was into him. I could hardly utter a word when speaking to him unless I was very drunk, but at that point I didn’t follow him so deftly in any venue I found him.
I didn’t see him very often when I was in 3rd grade. Our paths almost never crossed. He got a boyfriend and went abroad, and I took a step back from Greek life to recover from the bad habits I had picked up in the previous year as a Brotherhood decadent. (Let’s just say I needed therapy more than men.)
Fast forward to senior year. One night in my first semester, I stayed at a friend’s house in Delta Gamma. She lived with six other women. I woke up next to her in the middle of the night, went downstairs to get a glass of water, and found Griffin in her kitchen. He had just ended a relationship and was with a female friend who lived in that house.
It was 1:00 am and they had just returned from a night out. I told myself it wasn’t worth getting involved with him again, but when he said let’s go home together, I couldn’t resist.
“Where are you going?” When I got back upstairs, my friend asked me to get my things from my bedside.
“I can’t sleep,” I said. “I’m walking home.” I lived across the street, so she didn’t want to acknowledge her relationship even though she knew it would rock her emotions. And it happened.
Griffin and I spent a few more nights together that semester. At the beginning of my second semester, I finally told him how I felt. If he wasn’t at least ready to take me on a date, I needed to move on.
We went on that date, drinking wine on my rooftop and asking each other questions about life. We both smiled at each answer. That was 3 years ago and we have been happily together ever since.
The author is writing his debut novel, The Story of a Gay Flat Star. Follow his book journey on Instagram and his TikTok: @tanneraiello
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