This Is Personal.

I had a friend come to me with lovely news about how a really attractive guy we knew from high school approached her. And it reminded me of how magical I used to think the world was. She’s panicking because she has no idea why he held her hand and she wants to know but there are so many things that could be completely normal about this, and it’s a pain in the ass.

I’ve always been one to believe in fairy-tale endings and happily-ever-afters and that sort of thing. I want it to feel like magic when we meet each other and only increase with each day after that. I mean, sure, let’s make fun of me for these feelings, but this has been my dream since I was like thirteen. I’m literally like a twelve-year-old girl in a twenty year old man’s body. It’s rather weird sometimes. But I have this fear that I’ve already missed Mr. Right or, more recently, I’m not compatible with any other man on the planet.

And that’s heart-breaking and terrifying.

My last relationship was by no means a shit-show. Well, at the end it got pretty rough, but overall, he and I had some good moments. I won’t lie and say we didn’t. But this relationship did leave me afraid of everything. If I couldn’t make it work with someone who seemingly had their shit together; who claimed to be madly in love with me; who was willing to and had done so much for me; was basically willing to give me ALL the sex any time (because apparently that’s a thing some people desire: unlimited sex);and dealt with all my insanity, then how the hell could I make it work with someone else? So I panicked for months, trying to understand how I’d get through a breakup (because I knew I had to) and then love didn’t look so magical anymore.

I had given up on love being something grandiose and everything I ever wanted. I had literally changed as a person. I was afraid of everything. I was angry at everything. All this time I wasted, being the person I was in that relationship with a man who I never fell in love with, could have been used somewhere else. And since I admitted that I wasn’t actually in love with him from the beginning, I look at my feelings with a lot more scrutiny. I can never tell if I’m actually falling for someone, or if the loneliness is winning out again; if I’m desperate or scared. Stud, who I mentioned in another post was the first time I considered that I might actually be really into someone; the first time I had to let go and just admit it. That’s totally fucked…

So now I’m just a single, bitter man in the making. Nowadays though, I’m starting to believe in love. I couldn’t tell you why, but it’s so hard not to believe that I won’t have a happy ending like that. Where I’ve a husband and kids and they all drive me absolutely bat-shit insane…and yet I love them with every part of me forever. That’s beautiful, and I want my life to be about those kinds of things. So even though I’m in a bit of a slump, and it seems so hard to meet men that aren’t just looking for The D, I’m moving back into myself only with quite a bit of annoying caution.

You never know if something is going to work unless you try it. The fear of ruining something is stopping me from even attempting, and I’m working on that with myself.


On Jobs and Progressing Through Life

If any of you know me outside of this magical place called the Internet, which most of you don’t, then you’re aware that I’m very good at becoming overwhelmed by thinking about my future. My self-confidence is bad (much better than it used to be) and I just need frequent enough encouragement from my friends and family to make it through some things.

I’ve always felt the pressure that I needed to get a job. Needed to start working. Everyone else was working, sometimes multiple jobs, at my age and I was super behind the power curve. My mom always told me to focus on school: “School is your first job. You’re fortunate enough not to have to work right now.” And she was right. But as I’ve gotten older, as in approaching 21, I began to panic. Why is it that I’m 21 years old and have no work skills? That doesn’t seem right. If I don’t have any work skills, how am I going to get a decent job? Who will hire someone lacking ALL the skills?!

So this year, around April-ish, I applied to be a tour guide at my university. Just to try it out. It involved working with people and I’ve lived in my residence hall for three years so I was fairly confident that I could do this job well. I thought it was a volunteer position, but it’s actually paid! BONUS! I started working and I’d never felt more capable in my life. I was working, ENJOYING what I did, and had a little bit of extra spending money in my pocket. I thought I was doing well: I took that first step.

But now that Summer has set in, I’ve slumped down into my room at my parents’ house in Germany for a few months and I’m pretty much just occupying space. I recently had a job interview on one of the local military bases and it seems like it might have gone well. This is a terrifying experience for me. For some reason, this job feels like it would be different from my job under The U. I’m still working with people, I’m still getting paid, but it seems like this summer job outside of college is so much more real. I can barely handle it. BUT it is only for the summer, but it’s pushing me towards my future.

One of my best friends and I are moving in together after college, but we’re going to be newly grads, mostly poor, and doing things on our own for the first time. Clearly we have reservations and a shit-ton of worries. So while I don’t really need this job right now, getting it is definitely a first step to putting away money for this ridiculously new endeavor into Real Life.

All of these things are wonderful, but I’m still just as nervous as I am excited. We can do it -I can do it- but it’s much harder to look up at what’s to come than to look back at what has already been done.

I received an email yesterday saying that I did not get the job. I’m not upset that I didn’t, but I’ m upset that I wasn’t the most qualified person to apply. After I had my interview, I began to actually think that my resume, filled with volunteering and tutoring opportunities, would be perfect to work as a sales associate or customer service representative. Maybe it is, but someone actually knows how to use a damn cash register. I don’t know, but now I’m back to square one: no job experience, and a future coming at me fast.

Am I panicking? A little bit.

An Unwelcome’d Change

Today we’re switching it up from the subject of my failure with men to my failure with religion/faith.

My mom has recently (and by recently I mean months ago) started her walk within the Christian faith and it has done wonders for her, so she continues to tell me. She feels happier and she feels stronger; I’m extremely happy for her and glad that finding her way back to the church has helped her accomplish these things. I want to preface my personal comments with this: I have nothing against people of faith, people who have faith and worship regularly, or any combination of words speaking about people/religion/faith, except those that seem to be on the path of setting people on fire. I’m not a fan of the extremists.

Two days ago, my mom approached me and told me that because I still live under her roof and by her rules, I’m required to join her and my brother at church for the rest of my summer vacation. I’m very displeased with this, for one, because before I had the choice of whether to attend church or not because I’m an adult. My younger brother didn’t have the same choice, and now because it’s a “standard” (which I don’t agree with actually. It’s not a standard, this is her walk in faith.) I have to follow suit.

A few times before this conversation, my mother and I have actually talked about my relationship to church and why I’m uncomfortable with it. It basically boils down to feeling uncomfortable and non-authentic when I’m at a church because I’m gay. I’m not entirely myself and just feel obligated to keep a shield about myself, so I feel like a spy almost. I don’t enjoy going to church and then hearing messages about how terrible homosexuals are and how we’re destroying kingdoms and other ridiculous things like that. They’ve the right to their opinions, but that doesn’t mean I have to willingly subject myself to these things.

So I don’t.

I also have this thing where I don’t understand how anyone can pick one religion over another and then claim that religion is the only correct one. There are X many number of faiths and Y many number of people that follow each one. If they’re all right, then they’re all wrong. There’s a problem there. And my mom and I have had conversations about this where she insists that she knows for a fact that Christianity is the only way to go and I tell her my thoughts and receive a weird face and then we continue about our lives.

But back to the angry, bitterness about being forced to go to church. As I said, I don’t have a problem with people who go to church: everyone has there thing, but going to church isn’t mine. It’s taken me a very long time to be okay with who I am and start to like myself as a person who just is gay. I’m very proud of the progress I’ve made, and I believe myself to be a damn good person! I didn’t go to church for that, and I don’t need church to tell me what’s right to do by people and what’s wrong. That should be common sense.

I’m curious about religion in the fact that those who claim to have one are equally crazy in their beliefs based off how they view other religions (blanket terms are easy. I know this isn’t true for everyone). I have questions about some things when they come up, but at this point it almost feels like she’s trying to change me and I no longer have a willingness to ask questions about something I’m being forced into. Experiencing this will probably be a way to find the answers myself, but I’m not willing or ready to immerse myself into a walk within the Christian faith to discover if what they say is true for me or not. Now I’m just going to sit awkwardly in church like I always do, but this time, I’m a little upset with her.

I know she means well, but if you want someone to convert to your religion, throwing them isn’t a good way to make them want to stay. I’m already prepared to run the other way.

When I wrote this, I saved it as a draft because it didn’t seem like it was making much sense. I’m still not sure if it’s completely coherent to the point where I can say “this is exactly what needs to be said about my feelings” but I’m sharing it now anyway. It’s an accurate description: it’s fucking jumbled and unsure and difficult, which is exactly how I think and what I feel about all of this.

I’ve since gone to church with her, and I was obviously upset the entire way there. I watched, but I did not participate. I feel like it’s best to be honest and do nothing than to pretend that this is what I’ve always known and done. I don’t want to be dishonest: that seems offensive to the church and feels like I’d be mocking them. Let’s keep it classy and quietly sit in the back and just observe. I’m really hoping my mom will stop trying to make me love it. The chances of that are…slim.

Gay Crush on the Straight Guy

There seems to be a theme going on right now. This is basically hard evidence that summer has officially set in for me. I have way too much time to contemplate and complain (and now vlog AND blog) about my situations. Let’s dive in again, shall we?

Attraction begins on the surface level. Do you like what you see? Yes? Now you want it. No? Try again somewhere else. I think many people want to meet someone that they’re physically attracted to and then find that their personality fits like a puzzle piece with theirs. Sounds pretty nice to me. I’m also one of those people, so… But there is this epidemic that just sweeps the world and I don’t understand it for the life of me: wanting what you can’t have. More specifically tailored to my case: straight crushes!

Over the course of the last year (my Junior year of college) I experienced three straight crushes, mostly simultaneously. The first guy to be subject to this madness (unknowingly) is ADY. That’s what I call him on Twitter, at least. Brooding, curly haired, well-dressed man that never said anything to me; I only know he’s beautiful. What the fuck am I doing!? I don’t know him but I was so willing to get to know him. Eventually it annoyed me so much that I started to hate his beauty, and now it’s no longer a crush. I just want to touch his hair. And if he kissed me, I’d probably be REALLY cool with that…

Guy #2 is the odd one out; let’s call him Pro. He’s a vulgar little shit, and it entertains me to no end. So two girls in my friend group had a thing for Pro at the very beginning of the year, and my fascination kicked me in the throat near the end of the first semester. He’s not classically handsome, he’s kind of an asshole, he’s sarcastic, he’s done drugs: this kid is clearly not where I usually set my sights. The nice guys are definitely a weak spot of mine. But I fell for him, and it’s the most ridiculous, embarrassing thing. He had no idea, but we pretty much flirt all the time. I regularly tell him his ass is great, and waft him after he showers because he always smell like something I should be all over. I secretly think he likes the attention, but wishes I had boobs. At this point, I only kind of enjoy his company. Mostly it’s a reminder of how stupid I can be to fall for a straight guy, who is/was also in the sights of one of my other friends as well.

Guy #3 is my FAVORITE of the straight guy crushes! This is a bad sign as well. We’ll call him Stud. He is all the world’s positive phrases and hope and kindness, wrapped in a beautiful man. I hate it so much, and all I want to do is get close to him. This guy, fuck him, right? I know him from a class where he kindly held the door open for me, and complimented me on a necklace (I was destined to lose this fight). So I reached out and tried to make non-creepy contact. We’re now Facebook friends and have had lunch occasionally. This is the worst of the straight crushes. I’m not used to interacting with men, so when I do and they say things like “Miss you”  through a text or something equally nice, but friendly, I don’t know if that’s flirting or if he’s literally  just actually a nice guy. He interacts with people like I interact with people. That doesn’t mean he’s gay, but I wanted it mean he was gay! I don’t know where I’m at with that Stud. I was trying to tell myself bad things about him so I’d like him less, but it didn’t work. The worst I could come up with is that he’s positive all the time and that would probably get annoying to date. WHAT?!

What does one get from having feelings for someone who is clearly unavailable to them? All it does is lead to wasted time trying to court them, and then an extremely unpleasant experience trying to get over them. And it’s not just gay men with straight men. It’s lesbians with straight women, straight men with lesbians, straight women with gay men, etc. I can’t understand it, but I also can’t stop. We’re smart people, I’ll give us that one, so why can’t we make a conscious choice to love someone who can love us back the way we actually want? If I was learning something from falling for dazzling heteros, then I could see it. But instead of making me feel like a stronger, more confident, knowledgeable person, I really just feel like I don’t know how to function in society.

Boys, Boys…Oh, Boy

It’s no secret in my circle of friends that I’m a person who is quick to attach to someone and slow to let them go. Falling quickly is only one of my fatal, human flaws. I’ve known about this for years though. My first real-time boyfriend from high school swept me off my feet, even though he was a pain in the ass with more baggage than we had arms to carry. But I thought it was love, and damn it, I was going to keep him forever; we broke up, dated again, broke up, dated…and broke up. Should I even mention the straight guy who was mildly infatuated with me, only to ignore me after becoming “an item” and then turning out to be a complete douchebag? No, I didn’t think so.

I’ve also had my fair share of college…whatever we call these. Delusions probably fits quite nicely. There’s the Cowboy, who I didn’t like, and then suddenly missed furiously and assumed I was in love with. That was a bitch to get over. But I did with my ex-boyfriend who I’m convinced is utterly psychotic. What’s new? I’ve always been really good at picking men-folk for myself. Once he was out, I was sure I was taking a break, but men seem to find me when I want them the least. This one found me from a class we shared. I had a slight thing for him in class, I’ll be honest, and I love him to death. We’re similar in a lot of ways, and it’s weird because I had a gay friend. But then there were feelings, and I shot him down on Valentine’s Day because I panicked…and I made out with him like three days before that in a hot and heavy post-Super Bowl frenzy. Not that I’m into sports, but he felt good and I thought it could be something! Due to my lack of confidence in being able to support a relationship of serious caliber, I nipped it in the bud. We now talk occasionally about only platonic things. And there was J, that’s what I’ll call him, who is hilarious and disgusting but in a less repulsive way. He is me and he is definitely not me. I liked him, but I could feel in my bones it wasn’t going to go anywhere. So it didn’t. It seemed like I got cold feet, but he didn’t stumble and I feel like a dick anyway.

Clearly, I have experience realizing things are not what I actually thought them out to be. So why do I find myself in this situation once again? I swear I’ve been fighting it as hard as anyone could do it. Online profiles list strictly friends, and while most idiots don’t read the profile, the few that do turn out to be cool, or sleezy anyway. But this guy is different. These GUYS are different. The different isn’t significant, but it’s enough to have me on an emotional roller coaster the past few days. Here me out?

Guy #1 we’ll call Z. He’s foreign, hot accent, and we talk ALL the time. He’s super sweet and is a huge flirt. He can’t help himself. First thing is first, I’m not that attracted to him. As I’ve gotten to know him via the internet, he has grown on me. He’s not stop-me-dead, steal-my-breath attractive, but he’s gotten cuter and I absolutely love his personality. And while he says he’s not really moving too quickly, I feel like he’s in free-fall trying to get into this cage with my heart. I enjoy him, but I feel like I’m being chipped away at. I don’t like feeling like I’m leading him on, when I know I’m not into him like that. At least I’ve told him, and he said he wasn’t falling for me either. Technically I’d be in the clear, but it’s not just him trying to get into my pants. Who would work this hard to get into anyone’s pants?! It’s been like a month or two! I wouldn’t work that hard! #aintnobodygottimefodat

But my real problem is here with Guy #2, who we’ll called F. He’s in his early thirties, and he’s got this look that is like sexy, weird, foreigner. He looks like a German and I’m totally into it, Jesus help me. This started out friendly as well, but last weekend, things turned up a notch. And I’m glad! But I’m terrified. Even though I could admit to myself that I found him attractive, I was clear with myself that I wasn’t going to admit any feelings should they appear. As we continued to talk, I could see those bitches trying to escape the glass jar. It was shaking and they were tapping. I didn’t have the lid on as tightly as I should have, and now I’m here feeling a bit lost. Over a boy. Again. I don’t think I’ll ever learn. We’re into each other, but we’re actually nothing but strangers trying to meet in real life and see if we’re compatible friends. There has never been a mention of anything else, but I’ve already played it in my head, ergo I’M DOOMED.

Do you see my problem?

What I need to do is be calm and cool about this. But I’m actually really worried. This Love thing is a really big deal to me. I’ve wanted to be a Mr. So-and-So forever; the husband, the father, the friend. It’s a dream of mine to have my own family; to get married and play house. So when I meet guys, I freak out because you can never tell if one guy is a better fit over another guy unless you try. Fear has stopped me from playing the game a lot lately. Two perfectly good men I’ve left out to dry. Is the same going to happen with F if things get that far? Boys, boys…oh boy. Living with them makes me a wreck, and living without them makes me desperate.

So what’s the difference?