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Rated: GC · Other · LGBTQ+ · #1754425
A young man recounts his understanding of his identity, only to have to question it again.
         So what if I'm gay? I always say this whenever someone asks me if I am. The funny thing is that they're usually surprised when they ask me. I'm not your cliché, lisp talking super fabulous gay. I don't really even have a lot of gay friends. I'm just a normal guy. Who's gay. Not a big deal, right?

         That's what my boyfriends always liked about me. They'd say I'm mellow. Chilled-out. Not really bothered by anything. And that's the truth. But like, shouldn't that be normal? It's not like I have a problem with myself. I knew I was gay since middle school. I also knew I liked rock music and hated the black eyeliner everyone was wearing. But I guess that’s the thing with middle school, high school, college. Everyone is desperate for an identity. Who am I? What do I like? Who do I like? Those things never bothered me. Guess I was lucky.

         My boyfriends though, they all had those issues. The first one was in middle school. He was always freaked out his parents would find out he was gay, and disown him or something. I guess that would be bad. But seriously, he went overboard trying to not act gay, I couldn't help but think everyone just knew it all along. Well I did, since the first time I met him. I though, hey, that dudes queer too. Why's he so fidgety though? That was eighth grade. Next year we went to different high schools and that was the end of that. Good riddance too, he was kinda nuts.

         The second one was in high school, the next year. By now I could keep a permanent five o'clock shadow by only shaving every other day. I thought it made me look cool. And older. That turned out to be a problem though. My second boyfriend looked cool too, the opposite of the first one. He had this 'fuck you' attitude I liked. Didn't take shit from anyone. Problem was, he was older than me. In college. I was fifteen. He had a car, an apartment, and money from working part time. I was a rebellious teenager. You can see where this is going. Three months later, I get grounded for skipping two days of school, not coming home for a week, and for my parents finding out I was shacking up with a guy. Yea, that last one was pretty bad. I didn't get disowned though, but I felt pretty bad making my mom cry and all that.

         The third one was when I was a freshmen in college. Yea, that’s like three or four years being single. I wasn't grounded the whole time, only for like six months. But I needed a break. Two serious boyfriends and both of them were nuts. Or made me nuts. Either way, I didn’t like it. This guy though, he was pretty cool. But not in the over the top fuck the world kinda way number two was. This guy was funny. He was also the gayest guy I dated. Had a lisp, over the top mannerisms, and all his friends were gay. Really just had a gay old time. He ended up cheating on me with them as well. Said I should join in a threesome with them, it'd be fun. You don't have to be gay to know how that made me feel. Fuck him.

         That was last year. Now? I go on dates here and there, but these guys are just horny bastards. Three dates and they want to have sex. Some even suggest it on the first date. They tell me not to be shy. I tell them not to be pigs. One of them even asked me if I was really gay, or I was just messing with him. I went to the restroom, found the waiter and asked him to send a lobster to the table. I drove home without seeing him again.

         Then I got lucky. See, I met this guy at a local concert. He was a little shorter than me, and real thin but with nice broad shoulders. Had his hair cut kinda long and messy, so his bangs sprayed in all directions. Said he liked it that way, cause he didn't really care what he looked like. He was cute though, in the face, and had this soft, mellow voice I really liked. We talked. I asked for his number. We texted a whole bunch. We both had school and work so we didn't go on our first real date for like two weeks. But we texted and talked almost every night. It was crazy, these feelings. I really liked him. He seemed perfect.  He was real mellow, we always just talked about the bands we liked, or the stupid people we knew. We didn’t really talk about ourselves that much. We probably should have, things would have turned out a lot different if we did. But I didn't like talking about myself, and neither did he.

         Things got kinda strange from here though. You see, when I met him in the concert, he was wearing this big heavy jacket cause it was cold outside, and between the darkness and the alcohol, the only thing I really got a good look at was his face. I just knew he was thin with broad shoulders. Well when we went for our date, we met up during the day, when it wasn't so cold out. He didn't wear a jacket. He wore a skirt. Fuck. He didn't mention anything about cross dressing. That's not my thing. But I looked into his face, so cute and friendly. Makeup? Looked like some of that black eyeliner I hate. Lip gloss? God damn, this guy really didn't come across as one of those types. I start eyeballing the exit, I don't want to get mixed up with this kind of queer again.

         He sat down and started talking. I melted. That soft, mellow voice of his did me in. I stopped caring. Oh well, maybe this one will work out. Then I realized something. Like, I really fucking realized something. Like, how the hell did I not realize this the entire time I've met this guy, from the concert, to the text messages, to him sitting down in front of me? God damn it. He's not gay. He's a girl.

         Well, she's a girl. A normal girl, who doesn't care about her image. She's tall and lanky and not very feminine. She likes the same bands as me. I started laughing. She didn't understand, but smiled at me with this, let me in on the joke face. So I stopped laughing and looked into her perplexed face. She was still so cute. I stammered. She started laughing and told me I make a cute face when I'm embarrassed. Damn right I was embarrassed. I'm gay. I picked up a chick who I thought was a guy. I fell head over heels just by talking to her through text messages for a few weeks. She's so cute. She had no idea what was going on in my head right now.

         Honestly, neither did I. For the first time in my life, I didn't understand my own feelings. I'm gay. But I like her. She's cute. She likes me too. But I'm gay. I'm not supposed to like girls. She put her hand on mine and smiled. I melted. She had that effect on me. Can I… can I go out with a girl? Isn't that against the rules or something? She got up to go to the bathroom. Good, I have a few minutes to figure this out. I'm gay. I just need to tell her that. I thought she was a guy. That might hurt her feelings, but what the hell else am I supposed to say? I was sulking. I was nervous. My hands were sweating.

         She came back from the bathroom, with this cute smile on her face and that messy hair I swear got a little messier just to tease me. I melted, again and again. A flood a feelings came rushing into me, I couldn’t even think. I just looked at her and felt, I want to go out with her. She made a joke about an idiot sitting behind us. That did me in. She was perfect. So what if I'm gay?

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