My last post really highlighted my love life. Not all of the issues have been resolved, but I think that I’ve finally reached the point where I can move on from the boy I talked about. I now have An all new problem, and I decided to reach out to all of you for help. There’s this boy in my theatre class, lets call him Connor, and I think he may be interested in me, but I can’t be sure. I think he may be gay, but I can’t be sure, and I’m sure as hell not going to ask him (unless u think I should?) A few months ago when we had a sub and were playing a game, one cheerleader asked if me and a friend of a friend, Cindy, were “a thing”. I announced to her face (a little loudly, bit embarrassing) that I was gay. I’m fairly sure most of the room heard. Well in this game (a murder mystery) at this point we had to close our eyes while Connor chose who got to be the killer. I had caught him staring at me earlier, and as soon as I closed my eyes, he chose me. I’ve caught his eye once it twice, but we’ve never really talked. Recently, he moved behind me in class. The same day, he came and sat at my lunch table. I didn’t dislike Connor at the time,but I didn’t really know him. As far as I knew, we have no common friends. I figured someone invited him, and I felt awkward talking to him. Halfway through lunch he left. When we got into choir he sat right next to me, but we didn’t talk then either. We are working on our one act unit in theatre, and he invited me to be in his group. This is the first time we really talked, and he was really nice and funny. I made a decision to ask Cindy what his deal was, and she seemed very sure that he was gay. I later talked to Amber, the friend of Cindy’s that I was friends with. She said that she didn’t know, and that Cindy isn’t nearly as smart as she thinks she is. This is going to be an ongoing project in Theatre, and I’m looking forward to talking to him again. I need someone to tell me if I’m making this all up in my head or if something is actually going on here. If so, what should I do? Should I ask him out? Should I ask for his phone number? Should I give him mine and wait for him to call me?
As you can probably tell from the above title this is not a happy post. I’m about to let you in a part of my life and my soul that I NEVER as a rule, nay, a LAW share. Ever. At all. I have a problem with putting up walls. (problem, strength, make of it what you will based on personal philosophy) I never let people in, because I have a pathological fear that if I do, they might reject me because of it. I put up a tough facade, a dark armor that keeps people out as well as keeping myself in. There are many perks to this, WAY too many for my own good. You aren’t hurt by anything, people can’t use anything against you, it keeps emotions separate from reason (HUGE perk, emotions are messy and gross and bleck) , and it’s just so much easier. But recently, I’ve started feeling the repercussions of such an armor. When you let no one in, you push then away. Its easy, but it’s lonely, and it makes it harder to DO anything about being lonely. One of the main reasons that I push people away like this is because I don’t know HOW to deal with emotions. Emotions are illogical, messy, and they just make me uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some emotionless
robot, I feel emotions, they hit me HARD. I just don’t know how to deal with them. Its easier to just avoid dealing with anything. I’ve been trying to let my walls down, but every time I come close to letting my true colors show, someone takes advantage of it. My story begins with a boy. The last person I was able to successfully open up to. I’m sharing this, because I’ve come to realise that this is one of the roots of my problems. The boy (man now) in question is aware of this blog, and I hope that he can read this. Its not enough to admit this to myself, I need him to know. I need this out so that hopefully the rest of my walls come tumbling down. So here we go. Throughout this story I’ll refer to him as Sparx (inside joke, I’m cracking up over here).
Experts say that the average crush lasts around six months. Any longer than that and you’re already in love. Well doesn’t that really suck. What would they call five years? Let that sink in. I’ve had an infatuation with the SAME man for five years, and I’m only 15. I’ve known Sparx for eight years. We’ve practically grown up together. He’s been my best friend since we met. Except, to me, that was never all we were. I’ve had this fantasy of how our lives would go. We would be childhood best friends, him and I. After high school we would run off to New York and get a cheap place in Bushwick, scare away criminals by going outside and screaming at the sky to make them think we were crazy. We would go to college together, he would put up with the loud, wild, crazy sex I would be having in the other room, and I would be his shoulder to cry on through all his relationship woes. Then, one day, he would look up and realise that love was here all along. Corny? Maybe. Sappy? Absolutely. Cliche? A little. Unrealistic? Yes. An absolute dream come true? You bet your ass it is. Now it’s no secret that I like Sparx in our group of friends. I think it’s always been a bit of a joke to them. He’s always kind of laughed it off. He either never really thought I was serious, maybe I was joking. Or, he laughed to cover up that it made him uncomfortable. Either way, I don’t think anyone really grasped how deep these feelings ran. I do not hesitate to say that I whole heartedly believe that I am in love with Sparx. I know what your thinking, I’m 15, I’m too young, how would I know. Screw you. If you’re that bothered by it then get the hell out of my blog. Anyway. Emotional time. I’m not talking about the stupid teenager I wuv wou love that runs rampant in the halls of today’s high schools. I’m above that, I’m not stupid enough to believe that that kind of love is worth anything. I’m also not talking about hormone fueled lust either. Don’t get me wrong, there is a sexual component, but that’s not the point. I’m talking about real love. Enduring. Adult love. I thought I was over him for a really long time, about two years. I thought I was able to accept that I would only ever be just friends with him. But it didn’t work like that. When I met Sparx, he was one of the single greatest people I had ever met. He understood me. All my quirks and idiosyncrasies were accepted. He didn’t try to change them, but even better, he spotted me. He told me when I was being unreasonable or, to use a clinical term, bitchy. He smoothed out my rough edges and made me a better person. And even better is that he CARED enough about me to do that. I had never had someone who cared about me as much as Sparx did, enough to accept me, yet fix me at the same time. I’m still a bit of a broken toy now, but without Sparx there’s no telling what could have happened to me. After I realised that, that he wasn’t trying to change me or convert me, that he was trying to help me, that was when I first fell for him. When I came out, he was a saint about it. While everyone else just kind of joked about it, he never treated me differently in even the slightest regard. He was more than tolerant and aware, he was CARING. He was there for me. While it wasn’t entirely a smooth journey (We once had a fight when he one said come on Angus, we all know that you’re only gay for the attention) he was always there. After a while, we sort of drifted apart. Our social circle got bigger. Everyone would rather be friends with the outgoing nice guy rather than the dark and twisty gay. We were pulled apart, but he was always present in my life. This is around the time when I began to question my feelings for him. I told myself that what I felt was just a crush. I was too young to experience anything like that yet. This desperate craving for his attention was just a phase. The constant vigilance that I needed to keep in place to keep myself from spewing I love you after every phone conversation would soon be unneeded. Then, a couple of weeks ago, we got into a HUGE blow out fight. We didn’t speak to each other for almost a month (the longest we had ever abstained from speaking). When it was over we had this heart to heart where we talked about how we needed each other and how he worried about me. Afterwards I was left with the same whimsical feeling of euphoria from talking to him. Then, when I realized what had just happened, I actually yelled DAMN IT to the wind. Every tiny, unrequited feeling I had ever had came rushing back with a vengeance. This feud had a whole new purpose now. The next day I dragged up every feeling of anger and resentment I had (believe me, that’s a lot of hatred) and directed it at him. If I couldn’t have him, I would hate him because of it. I hoped to spark a new wave of infighting and destroy our friendship completely. See, this is where the cold, emotional detachment comes into play. I had never felt the need to put up barriers with Sparx before I had to fall for him. Now I needed to use them to end these feelings. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to tear away from him. Since then, I’ve done everything I can to get over him. I even started a trial relationship with one of my friends, not that it ever got off the ground. I managed to convince myself that I was simply extremely lonely. I’ve scoured the internet and debate tournaments to meet guys who may actually be interested in me. But when I close my eyes and ask myself who I want to spend my life with, I can only see him. When I envision my perfect man, I only see his face. Every day, every hour, I think of him, I miss him, I love him still. He is the last thing I think of at night and the first thing I think of in the morning. And in between, he is in my dreams. When my phone buzzes with his personalized text alert, I rush to answer no matter what. I can’t stand to keep this on anymore. I want to get this out so I can hopefully move on, but this one dragging part of me is holding out hope that him reading this will finally make him fall for me. It says that even though he never officially came out it’s been no secret that he likes men and women. He recently told me that he was pan romantic. I need to get past this, but until I do, I think I’ll always have that voice calling for him, longing for him. I’m not here to make you feel sorry for me. I’m not here to make you fall for me. But this needs to be known, Sparx. I’m sorry. You know that’s not easy for me to say, and you know that stuff like this scares the hell out of me
Now I’ve hinted and implied and talked around this before, but I think it’s time I finally addressed it: I am stone cold, heart wrenchingly, depression inducingly, lonely. I have mentioned before that I have a gay best friend, and that nothing will ever happen between us. But it’s gotten so bad recently, that I’ve actually found myself thinking about him. And deep down, I know that I’m kidding myself, I know that I don’t want him, I know that he definitely doesn’t want me. I’ve just been so lonely recently that I would enter a relationship with him for the sake of not being alone. And extending on this hypothetical relationship, if it ever did happen, we would make each other miserable. We would drive each other insane, we would fight all the time, we would drag every fight we had to our friends and put them in the middle, and we would break up and get back together out of sheer necessity. We would put each other through hell. And if we were somehow happy, we would stay together for maybe a year or two, then college trips would start, I would cheat on him, he would get an STD to retaliate, blah blah blah. I’m partly writing this to be a reality check, so that I will remember how miserable I would be. I know that “it gets better” and “it’s easier in college” but that’s not always the case. I have multiple friends in other schools who are relationships, and it’s not easy feeling so left out when I’m already so left out of everything else. The reason that I’m writing this NOW is because last week I found out the two of my straight friends entered a relationship. Here’s the kicker: they’re both asexual. That’s basically unheard of in high schools, and that’s what makes it worse. Asexuality is an even smaller minority group than homosexuality, yet they found each other. Its hard, and I know I sound whiny and stupid and dumb, but dammit this really sucks for me. I’m ready,and independent, and smart, and I have to watch these straight ass holes, who I have always prided myself as being above, seeing these cheerleaders and athletes as shallow and simple, and now I envy them. I want to have something that they have, which is something that I have experienced before, and it pisses me off. If anyone has anything to say that can satiate raw unbridled rage an jealousy, leave it in the comments.
Now I promise you this post is NOT about male escorts, it’s just the rhyming catchy title that comes to mind. This is more innocent and disease free than that. I don’t know if this is a consistency, or if it’s just something that is popular here. I am in speech and debate at my school (I’m starting to do LD debate, and I do Pro/Poe) and something that I’ve noticed at tournaments is that there is an INSANE amount of gay people in debate. Like a disproportionate amount of gay people. Like an uncharacteristically large amount of gay people. It really makes me wonder what it is about debate the attracts (Cards Against Humamity© moment) The Gays. So this is my first real time interacting with other gay people my age. And please, don’t think that I’m some hormone filled sex shark in a boner induced frenzy, everyone there is great, I’ve made tons of friends in debate, this is just me talking about this subject in particular. Anyway, first time around guys who may ACTUALLY be interested in me (emphasis on may), and I realise that I have absolutely no experience in flirting, seduction, relationships, kissing, casual conversation with potential partners, or being reserved at all. As much as I hate to admit it I may have scared a couple of guys away in my attempts to make my goals known. Que Sera Sera (Idk what it means but it seems to fit). Now, let me give you a crash course in gay guys minds for you. Contrary to stereotypes would have you believe, gay guys are absolutely no different from straight guys. I have learned this the hard way. (cue laugh track) Gay guys are just as starved sexually as straight guys, and in some ways it’s easier for them, and some ways it isnt. I exclude myself from “them” because I like to think of myself as an individual, because I do not have the pathological desire to screw or be screwed by anyone with a penis. I am searching for something deeper (no pun intended). I don’t mean to paint with a broad brush, I’m sure that there are other guys just as fed up as I am and whoever they are Will they please call me. (Ba dum chhhh) Moving on, if, like me, they go to a school with, like ZERO dateable people (no I don’t mean they r ugly, I’m referring to proper age, sexuality, gender, etc.), then it is EXTREMELY hard for them to get off, yet, at the same time, imagine how straight sex goes. The guy is in a hormonal rage and just wants to nail the girl, and the girl makes the final decision whether or not that’s going to happen (once again that’s not always the case, in just painting with a broad brush). Now imagine with TWO guys. Each wants sex as bad as the other, and neither plans on holding it off. That’s just my little frustrated rant. Ok, so recap: I’m sad, lonely, aggressive, inexperienced, and frustrated, and I’m suddenly thrown into a pool of guys that could be interested in me, and I’m scared out of my mind. I can always improvise, and try to flirt, but what if they get the wrong idea, and I obviously can’t sit down and announced that I’m searching for someone to spend the rest of my life with (I know I’m only fourteen and this is ridiculous and I have all the time in the world well shut your whore mouth Shannon). So then my dream comes true, I go to a debate tournament and I come across a guy who I think may be interested. He makes a point to initiate conversations with me, and I make a point to laugh at all his jokes and still make a point to express my personality and my interests. He asked if I was gay, and I said yes, and he seemed excited by it. We talked multiple times throughout the day, and once he even made a comment about liking my hair- YES!! I did it, he’s interested- and I get his last name and phone number. I’m sure that he’s gay, he’s funny, interesting, and though I don’t like to judge on appearances, not bad looking. Then the shit hits the fan. I decided to talk to one of my friends who goes to his school about him. Lets call her Reece and him Cooper. I find that Cooper is not only straight (which is fine, that’s just him, I just whispered Damn it and silently contemplated throwing a radio into my bath tub.) ,but he is an extremely ANTI-GAY straight guy. These are the people I like to reserve the term breeder for. He enjoys making comments on “if two homosexuals were on a deserted island, could they reproduce?” (My least favorite, and probably least logical breeder comment.) And what he enjoys above all is flirting with gay guys to lead them on. Well that just lights my fire. Under any other circumstances I would have said “just because you assume that I like to do taboo and creative things with my ass (which is none of your business anyway) doesn’t mean I can’t beat, kick, and kill yours” but instead, I felt weak. Crushed. I genuinely liked Cooper. I can’t see the appeal of leading on lonely, sad guys because you think it’s funny. Anyone who likes to flirt with guys, I think, has something to admit. That was this weekend.
Dear future husband,
Tomorrow is our wedding day, but of course you know that already. I never thought I would find you, and I thought I was doomed to be alone forever. But, I did, and for that I will violate my philosophy of prayer just this once to thank any entity out there that I found you. Thank you God/Jesus/ Buddha/ Allah/ Zues. I thought that I was too much for someone. Too aggressive, too passionate, too independent yet needy, too desperate, too creative, too ugly, too fat, too sad, too angry,and at times too mean, and that no one would ever fit. But then, there you were, like you had been designed for me. I barely dared to believe that someone like me, a perfect match, even existed, let alone be right in front of me. Then I thought that you could never be interested in me, either wouldn’t be interested physically, or you would be unable to get past my rough exterior. Like so many people you would only see me as one thing. And that would be all you would thing of me as. Instead, you looked beyond everything, like you could see my soul and the person it contained. I never thought it could ever go past a mild flirtation (though I fantasized about this day since our first date) but it evolved into a relationship. A mutual relationship, with someone who needed as much as I needed them. I knew it would all come crashing down when I inevitably fell for you before you could fall for me, but to my surprise you were the one to say it first. Those three little words; I. Love. You. I thought my greatest fear would be that I would die alone, without having ever loved anyone, but it was replaced by a new fear. The fear of having you, loving you, falling for you and letting you in, and losing you. Yet here we are. And now, after I have reached the summit, the mountain seems so small, so inconsequential. Some day I’ll look back and say that I had a little nervousness about us. But today, I remember how it was, how I was. My fear of dying alone was so strong strong that I would have fallen into the arms of anyone who would have me. I never expected to find someone who would choose me out of anyone in the world. When I was 14, I was so desperate, so lonely, that I seethed with an infectious darkness. I was so lonely that it ached. I thought that if I didn’t have a boyfriend by then, it meant I would die alone. As stupid as that sounds to me now, that is how I felt. Sometimes, I wonder how u felt, at that time. What your life was like, if you felt lonely, and cheated. Sometimes, when I think about it, the old anger comes back, and I neurotically feel that I was cheated out of those extra years with you, that I could have known you all the sooner. But then the old fear comes back, and I’m afraid that if we knew each other back then, we may have not been mature enough, or through some cruel trick of fate, we may have ruined anything we could have had. But as I write this I realize that it doesn’t matter. We are together now, and I plan on spending every moment of my life with you from now on. I don’t know what the next years will contain, but I know that we will be together forever. This is just the next step in the greatest adventure of my life. I love you, and tomorrow, when I walk down that aisle, I will know, for the first time, that I am doing something right.
With all my heart,
Your darker half, and the Yin to your Yang,
Your soon to be husband
Now, hopefully all of you reading this agree with me when I say that the members of PFLAG are absolute saints. These people, many of whom aren’t even related to, friends with, or a member of the LGBTAQ community (this is my own abbreviation, it stands for Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Asexual and Questioning). They simply love helping people, and they dedicate their time to help troubled children. Needless to say, these are some pretty kick ass human beings. But I’m here to share my own personal story. Now for those of you who don’t know, PFLAG stands for Parents and Friends of Lesbians And Gays (I actually hate it when people use gay as a noun, ie he’s a gay, BURN HIM instead of as an adjective ie he’s so gay that unicorns are afraid to put a sticker of HIM on their binders in high school. But since they use it in a positive connotation I let it slide) They do a million different things for children and parents and for battling homophobia, so I thought my personal problem would be kind of put on the back burner. In Missouri, there are only three chapters of PFLAG, Springfield, St. Louis, and St. Charles. Of the three, Springfield was the closest, so I decided to contact them. I have only recently “come out” to my mother, and it is still a very awkward situation. I told her at 7 in the morning in the way to school, and after that I ran crying and hyperventilating to my theatre teacher. I was pretty much unintelligible the rest of the day, I never let go of my guitar pick and I could barely eat, read, or speak. Now, almost a month later, we still haven’t talked about it. Not a word. So this whole thing, plus my loneliness situation described in previous posts, drove me to try to find a sort of support group. Now,my school doesn’t have a GSA or a GLBT book section in the library, or even an openly gay member of the staff (come to think of it I’m pretty sure there’s only one black member of the staff too). There’s barely a young democrats club, abd there aren’t even many gay people in theatre (go ahead, scream hatred at me for perpetuating a stereotype) . In the immortal words of Fawcette ” it’s not my fault this school is totally devoid of the gay”. So I figured that if I emailed the Springfield chapter they could tell me about any support groups in the area. I emailed the Springfield chapter and, for good measure, the North Western Arkansas chapter. I never dreamed that the Arkansas chapter would be able to help me, but sure enough one thing led to another and Cathy Campbell, the President of the NWA chapter of PFLAG emails me back before the weekend is up. I have yet to hear back from the Springfield chapter, but Cathy Campbell has gone put of her way to help me in every way she can, despite me not even being in her jurisdiction. Thanks Cathy, and bless the people who work with and in PFLAG.
My lovers got humor
She’s the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody’s disapproval
I should have worshipped her sooner
If the heavens ever did speak
She’s the last true mouthpiece
Every Sundays getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week
We were born sick, you heard them say it
My church offers no absolutes
She tells me worship in the bedroom
Only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you
I was born sick, but I love it
Command me to be well.
Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.
I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my death less death, good god
Let me give you my life
If I’m a pagan of the good times
My lovers the sun light
To keep the goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice
Drain the whole sea, get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That’s a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We’ve a lot of starving faithful
That’s looks tasty, that looks plenty
This is hungry work
Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my death less death, good God
Let me give you my life
No masters or kings
When the ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence
Than our gentle sin
In the madness and soil
Of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am human
Only then I am clean.
Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of you lies
I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife.
Offer me my death less death.
Good God, Let me give you my life
I thought I would begin this blog with the lyrics to my favorite song, by my favorite singer, probably my favorite man, Andrew Hozier-Byrne. Now I’m going to go ahead and make this clear, this song is NOT religious, and for me that is neither here nor there. What I like to focus on is the possible connotations you can take from the revolutionary and controversial video, which you can watch here.
If you watch the video, hopefully you noticed that the romance is between two men. Now I don’t know if Andrew himself is gay, or if he simply supports the gay marriage agenda, but I applaud him for taking the courageous dangerous first step towards equality in music production, especially this early in his career. Bravah Andrew, Bravah. When he was questioned about this he gave a deliciously sassy answer, about how he saw it as an extremely important step forward for society, and how anyone who was more shocked by the same sex couple than by the violence needed to revisit their priorities. There is nothing hotter than a man who stands up for what he believes in. And regardless of what you think of Andrew or this song, you have to admit, DAMN, white boy got some pipes. And that hair, look at it, look deeply into the hair.
All jokes and drooling aside, Andrew has made a huge leap forward for music, and he has an extremely bright future. If u haven’t heard his music yet, you need to. Kk bye.
Now the title of this piece is a little misleading. I mean to talk about the PEOPLE who have this mentality, not the actual act. (Believe me I tried, it doesn’t work). I recently read an article on Christline.org called Is your Child Gay?:A parent’s guide to recognizing early homosexual warning signs. Now from what I gather, Christline isn’t as much a religious site as it is a super conservative political site. I may even go as far as to say that it could be run by members of the Tea Party. U can read it here if u want. Now personally, while I found many parts of this offensive, I wasn’t up in arms about it. I was actually laughing through it. I’m not sure if this is real, or just some kind of joke, but either way I found it hilarious. I don’t know whether or not I believe that people who think like this actually exist, but if they do, I’m not rendered catatonic, nor am I enraged, I feel sorry for them. I pity them for their ignorance, and I pity anyone who’s influenced by their beliefs, but I’m not afraid of them. These people are legit crazy, but they have no real credibility and they will NEVER be taken seriously by the general population. It makes me sad that these people exist, but at least I can laugh at them from a distance, and know that they can’t do anything to hurt anyone,no matter what they think.
Ok people I’m not entirely sure how to do this. I thought I would start a little blog and talk about myself. I want this blog to be one that people like me read for advice and can leave advice for me. This first entry is just going to be a little about myself. I would prefer to remain anonymous, so you can just call me Angus Death-Mender or ADM. For those of you interested that’s a bit of an inside joke. All in due time. Well just a bit about me, I’m a 14 year old male who goes to Webb City High School in Webb City, Missouri. We just finished our production of The Wiz, in which I had a minor speaking part, and two major crushes on the Tin Man and the Scarecrow. I also fell into a state of fan-worship for both Dorothy and Glinda. I like to think that I’m a talented actor, singer, and writer. I am currently working on 9 different books. I have three dogs (Cookie, Coda, and Elvis) and one Siamese cat named Blu-Ivy (yes after THE Beyonce’s daughter) and since by now u r probably a little confused I will clarify that I am 100% flaming homosexual. If you didn’t know, that is socially acceptable basically everywhere except Missouri. I am one of two openly gay freshman. The other is one of my best friends and nothing will EVER happen between us no matter how crippling my loneliness. My favorite tv show is Once Upon A Time Lana Parilla is a Goddess. But I also love Gotham and How to Get Away with Murder. I have been told both that I am scary and a teddy bear. I have been called the human equivalent to a dark and stormy night, and also the perfect combination of gay nerd and elderly. One person once asked if I was a witch. Anyway, at my school I’m caught between the nerd and popular crowd (I’m just a GBF to either of them). Well that’s all I can think of right now.