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
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