He’d been l ying to himself about his own life for so long that now, with the opportunity to finally tell himself and the rest of the world hid truth, he just couldn’t talk fast enough. There was an understated excitement about him, giving long, detailed answers to simple questions, like he couldn’t share his story quickly or deeply enough. Still, as we tip-toed into some questions about the first 59-plus years of his life it was clear Rohrer had a lot to say. He wanted to share his story, but not all of it.

He was nervously hopeful about this entire public coming-out process and the small collection of writers he had to open up to with his story.

Sitting down, he quickly launched into some questions for me, as well as ground rules for our conversation. When the 6-foot-3, 235-pound former Dallas Cowboys linebacker approached our table in the corner of a dimly lit Beverly Hills restaurant a couple of weeks ago, he was dressed like a stereotypical straight guy, clothes on the baggy side, carrying an over-sized duffel bag… and a delicately clenched martini.

With Jeff Rohrer, you have to expect the unexpected.