The Guy Next Door

Is there a limit to the amount of people one can be interested in? Because sometimes I feel the numbers are increasing, but I’m getting nowhere. VERY QUICKLY. Prime example: how many of the posts on this blog are about things I have for men? Basically all of them except like two or three, right? Close enough. Is this not a problem?!

Yes and no.

I’m either overwhelmed with possibilities of choices of wonderful, attractive men or there is a negative number of suitors/men to be pursued; usually how it works. Currently it looks more overwhelming, but in reality, it’s probably a very normal amount.

I spent the entire Monday afternoon with Al having a BEAUTIFUL time. Seeing him always feels nice. I like being in his presence. He never wants to do more than cuddle (which could be offensive, but I get to cuddle so…). It’s just always a super cute date-not-date type deal. I leave a little sad and simultaneously elated because feels for males that have the slimmest chance of coming to fruition.

Thursday night I spent it with The Guy Next Door. We met online a year ago right before I left for school. This was actually our first time meeting in person after chatting that entire time, using Skype occasionally. Part of my evening could have been taken from a movie. We sang I Write Sins not Tragedies in a bar drinking beer; we watched Shelter which is a favorite movie for BOTH of us; after finding the courage to kiss him, we sat facing each other laughing and giggling about me trying to pronounce “dimples” in German: “Grübchen.” Like what?! When he drove me home, we listened to the Panic! at the Disco CD he still had from when he was 16. We were TOO. FUCKING. CUTE.
It was all just really nice! I knew I liked him already. We’ve had interesting conversations in odd English for a while and meeting him in person was much better for conveying his personality which is much more outgoing than I would have expected. But it works. And it’s nice. And I’m a bit fascinated. DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE EVEN TALKED ABOUT MOST OF THE NIGHT!? Fucking Language. How one would say something in German completely different in English. At one point, we played those old school hand-clapping games: “Shame” and one about burning houses with policemen in German…I don’t know, but I loved it! Basically what I’m saying is that I fucked myself over. But you knew that was coming, didn’t you?

I actually got in trouble with my mother for staying out until FIVE AM! I didn’t want to go home and he had the house to himself so we were literally just talking and laughing for HOURS with me not having phone service which I discovered when we left and I have a message in all caps from my father saying to call my mother (apparently she called and I had no clue. Obviously I would have answered).  I’m very glad all that happened was a kiss. It was beautiful and that complicated things enough. I leave to complete this damn undergraduate degree in two weeks and while I feel like falling for someone can’t be timed, this is definitely an inconvenient step in that direction.

2014 is off to a beautiful start, but also my feels are running around right now.  Kudos to getting my hands dirty so early in the year. May some of these risky crafts become beautiful pieces of art.


Always the Outsider

Today was the birthday of a friend of mine. She had a few friends over and freed a little by some alcohol we had consumed, she kissed a guy. Very handsome. Very tall. Smart-ass kind of guy. I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t reject her, but I became hyper aware of myself as I usually am in party situations.

I’ve never been to a party where I felt like I could just cut loose and not give a fuck, you know? Heterosexual people (not that you’re all the same and not that all gay men are all the same) just have this ability where it’s okay to randomly kiss a hot stranger for no reason. Women kiss men all the time and vice versa. But never have I ever been to a party where I saw a hot guy and just kissed him because I thought he was attractive. 

It’s inherent that heterosexuals can do this, because it’s just assumed that everyone is hetero unless otherwise stated. And it’s bothering me that I feel obligated to just kinda chill in the corner while everyone else gets the chance to make a pass at the hottie.

What am I even saying?!

The party atmosphere isn’t a place I inhabit often, but when I do visit, it’s probably with a bunch of females dressed to the nines and a bunch of guys decked out in college gear trying to score with the girls. Little old me should probably be at home watching a Rom-Com on Netflix.

These posts have gone severely down-hill. My voice is shot and my words are crippled.
My apologies.

Still Falling?!

Once, I was worried about falling for someone overseas because it might be a heartache I couldn’t handle. The good news is: I can definitely handle it. The bad news: I’m handling it.

Generally, a sense of stupidity is floating around me regarding this situation. I’m not pleased with this self-discovery that I have feelings for Al, but there’s not much I can really do about that. There are seven days left until I fly back to Minneapolis to start my senior year of college, and with every passing day, I get a little bit more freaked out and worried. But every day reveals to me that my feelings have escalated quickly and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m actually attached to him or because I’m attaching myself to the thought of him.

Regardless, it feels like I’ve actually fallen for him, y’all! Why is this happening? Why did this already happen? You know, you try to be careful and then you just stop and suddenly everything is to pieces. Someone asked me if i met anyone special while I was here, and I said yes. Vaguely so, I mentioned that they’re older than me and I did like them. When they said it’ll probably be hard for me to leave, I didn’t think it would be. But every day, I’m seeing exactly what they meant. I thought I’d be okay because I had an amazing time the last time we were able to hang out, but seriously, I’m kind of losing it and my heart is having none of my shit. It’s reached a point where someone would say it’s unhealthy.

At this point, I don’t know if I want to hold out hope that we make it over a long distance, or if I want to hope that all of this passes quickly so the heartache can be dealt with and life can continue. I do know one thing: I’m definitely going to miss him.

I miss him already.

Look Who’s A Big Idiot

So there was a change in the universe for like five seconds and just like that, it all reverted back to the usual.

I fell for a gay man who also liked me. I’m using past tense because it really needs to be past tense. In reality, it’s actually still in progress. So here’s the story:

I made an online profile before coming to Germany in hopes of meeting some interesting, non-creepy people to hang out with. Also, I wanted some partners in crime to go to Amsterdam Gay Pride. In the midst of being hit on by sixty-five year old men, I did find a few nice men to talk with. The subject of this story actually started as a friendship. When we met online, he was getting ready to go to the US and take a road trip with his friends. We kept in touch occasionally with messages. He’s a super sweet, funny, nice guy. Clearly my usual type. When he returned, we actually met in person. It was much more than I bargained for, but it left me CRAVING more. Craving, y’all. When he kissed me, I’m pretty sure I could have melted into a chocolate puddle. This is the beginning of the end.

Fast-forwarding through this story: we continued talking through messages after our first meeting. He traveled for work, and I live my life, determined not to give in too strongly to this feeling of “a crush.” But I failed, and just let it settle down over me. Before when it seemed scary, I started looking at it -looking at him- as though this could be really amazing. Recently, as in this previous Sunday or Monday, I sent him a message admitting to him how I felt about him (we had another meeting this previous Saturday). He was flattered, and admitted to liking me as well. The only thing: we both have the same reservations, which is my leaving in two weeks and living in a different country. He doesn’t want to put too much into an Us with me because I’m not here.

I’ve done some stupid things in my twenty-one years of life, but I don’t think they’ve ever resonated so soundly as this one. Who the FUCK am I have fallen for a German man, who is eleven years my senior by the way, when I don’t even live in the country, nor speak the damn language? For the past two days, the thought crosses my mind and I just kind of wince and scream a little on the inside. As you may know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a legitimate crush on someone who is 1) attainable and 2) attracted to me as well. When I finally decide to relax and let life happen, I get punched in the throat. Like, what the hell?!

All of this seems like I’m whining and being a victim. I’ll admit I do feel like a victim, but it’s my own damn fault. I can’t control my emotions. But it’s just very interesting to me how things turn out. It all seemed to be going so well, and then it’s actually something that I’m doing for myself that’s a roadblock between us. Have I mentioned that I fantasized about us dating and his coming to visit me in the states? No? Probably for the best.

Needless to say my pretend relationship is failing. We’re still friends though. That’s…something.

What You Don’t Know About Me

So this is based on a Daily Prompt from WordPress. If you click the hyperlink, it’ll take you right to the prompt page for July 3.  This is my first daily prompt, and it’s also the first one I’ve seen where I immediately knew what I could write about. So here goes nothing.

It’ll have been two years ago in October I believe, that I became even more afraid of the world than I already was. My now ex-boyfriend and I rode some NiceRide bikes from campus downtown to Target. We had some things we wanted to get and made it an adventure since it was so nice out. After shopping, we had dinner at Chipotle and by this time, it was getting dark outside. We could either ride bikes back to campus and withstand the chill that was coming or we could walk down the street and catch a bus back to campus. Thinking it’d be easier and faster, we chose to take the bus. While walking down the street, distracted by putting our hands in his hoodie pocket, a large group of men approached us from across the street, obviously disturbed by the slight display of homosexuality. We had some haters and we were terrified. We did our best to not provoke them and tried to continue walking, but we couldn’t shake them. They started pushing and swinging and that’s how my first mugging started.

I took off running but soon realized that my ex wasn’t behind me. Terrified for him, I ran back to help. They pushed him down and got a few good kicks to his side. I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him behind me. We ran all the way to the bus stop and called the cops when we got there. They didn’t pursue us and when the police finally decided to show up, the suspects were nowhere to be found. They were actually going to leave us and make us take the bus and I told them they were taking us back to our dorm. In the back of the squad car, I was fine but my ex seemed to be losing his mind. This role reversed within days: I’m kind of a late bloomer, I guess. I called our friends and had them meet us in the lobby, just to make sure we didn’t die when pulling up. I thanked the rather rude females that answered our call and that’s how I became the open, yet closeted, homosexual I am today! Thank you massive group of assholes downtown. I don’t know what I would have done without you.

I only told my close friends and family that we were attacked that day. And even though the ex convinced me to be interviewed with him for an article for the campus newspaper, I’m still very much scared to venture downtown for any reason and I’d rather spend $30 to take a taxi somewhere than about $2 to take the bus. I don’t talk about it because I’m actually a little nervous that whoever did that might find out how to get to me again. But it’s an important story to share and we need to protect ourselves. So I do share, and I do feel afraid, but I do believe it’ll be helpful in the long run.

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.