Blue Streaks in my Hair 3
Well, it came to a head one night. Rick always liked to watches movies with the lights out in his room. It was more like the theatre like that. It was also more private, more serene, more intimate for us. We looked at each other occasionally. We were both laying on our backs, watching the movie. I could not bring myself to touch him, though I wanted ever so much to do so. He was beautiful in the scant light from the television. Dark blond hair, blue eyes, small features, light skin. His bathrobe was open a bit. I could see part of his smooth chest. Had he left it open for me, pray tell? We were so close on so many levels.
Then, there was the scene. That gooshy love scene. I think it was from "Breakfast at Tiffany's" near the end. Rick's sister had gotten him into "ancient" movies. We watched. At least for me, the level of tension increased in the room. I loved to watch this guy breathe. I had fallen for him hard. Why shouldn't I tell him? He had a right to know. Then, he could do whatever he wanted with it. If he told his mom, I never had to go back to the cafeteria again. I could buy groceries.
So, I decided I would act on my love. Very timidly I began:
"Rick, ... "
"I like you a lot."
"Ummm, ... thanks."
"No, ... well, I mean ... I like you like Cary Grant likes Audrey Hepburn in the movie."
[Monster pause. I thought I would die with frustration.]
"Uh, gay sex hurts ... a lot."
I was stunned. I could not speak for some time. It had not occurred to me that this guy had tried gay sex before. And, it hurt? They must have not done it right or something. What was up with that?
"In high school, I used to hang out with this dude a lot. Everyone commented on it. But, he was my only friend. Then, we got internet. I saw all those pictures, and I asked him to try it with me--to make sure we were both straight or gay or whatever. I didn't care either way. I just wanted to know. I'm more into girls. No offence."
"Ummm, no offence t-taken." I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there. I had read the signs all wrong. My face was turning red. I didn't know what to say.
"It's okay. I don't care if you're gay. You just have to know that I'm not."
I got off the bed slowly. "Okay, ... I'm just going to go home now. I hope this doesn't affect our friendship." Wow, that sounded stupid!
"It's okay. Really. We can still be friends, if you want to..."
"Yeah, I do. I just ... I don't know what to say. I'll be okay. Ummm, I just need some time. Okay?"
"Sure, it's really no big deal. Ummm, this happened last semester. Don't worry about it."
Last semester? Some guy tried to get with Rick last semester. I felt like dying. I was just a damn statistic? Some poor gay guy had fallen for him last semester, just like me? Sheesh. Life could be sooo unfair sometimes! Some straight guy fucked my friend, and didn't do a good job of it; and, he's traumatized for life! My life sucks. Eternally. What is there left for me? He's got girls! I don't have anything!!!
Well, I got out of there as quickly as possible. I know it was trite of me, but I never joined that group again for lunch. I was stricken. I guess I got a little paranoid. I kind of wondered what they would think of me now that I was outed. Well, maybe Rick wouldn't out me. Maybe it wouldn't make a difference. I just didn't care. It hurt too much. I didn't go back, though I missed Rick terribly.
I went to the campus gay group occasionally. They were still a bunch of losers. But, one of their little newspapers had all the local gay bars in it with a map. I was feeling crappy, but I knew I was lonely. And, I wanted to do something about it. I'm the unsinkable Molly Brown, as it were.
My visits to the clubs were eye-opening. There were gays who were into dressing like women and parading around like model (some even kept their facial hair intact, which I thought was strange--apparently, they didn't). At another place, I was surrounded by old men. Icky old men with one thing on their minds. One of them actually said to me, after flirting with me for some time (I loved the attention):
"C'mon, let's just bum pussies, then." After I stayed for the flirting, but would have none of what he was giving away for free. Then, there were the lesbian clubs. Same problem, but more friendly. Another club was for the arrogant youth. Twinks out the wazoo. But, they were all so damn shallow and into drugs.
After some weeks, I found a club I liked better than the others. Most of the guys were "normal guy" types. They didn't dress really weird. They didn't act like bitches. I liked that. The cattiness of some clubs had nearly stopped me from going. I found that I liked the "normal guys" better than most other types. I felt sexy (somewhat), as I was watching them play pool or watching porn on their TV or listening to the good music. I only drank Coke (I still did not really trust all these guys completely). I had to buy two Cokes for my admission. I could handle that on my college kid budget.
I had been watching them play pool at the club one night. One of the cutest guys there was playing pool. He was good too. Then, this Asian guy walked in. Well, let me tell you that Asian guys are few and far between in the South. He also wore this nice red shirt. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The cute guy playing pool was forgotten. He wandered over, nearby, obviously looking around for friends. Going to clubs with friends is safer and more fun, obviously; but, it is not always possible.
He came closer. I didn't know what to say. I had read an article recently that proclaimed that you should introduce yourself to at least three people at a place before leaving. I forget what the bartender said. But, it sounded very cynical to me. So, I remarked to the Asian guy that that had sounded so cynical. We introduced ourselves, and he politely left to go meet his friends. So much for the article. I was on my third introduction, so I thought I might just leave instead--save myself some hurt.
But, as Fate would have it, the Asian guy called out to me. I went over, and he introduced me to his friends. I was attracted to his American friend (he was from the Phillipines), but I soon found that the Phillipino guy was much more interesting (less shallow). I left with the Phillipino guy. I was afraid, but we kissed in the car. I fell for him right there in his car. We went to Denny's. We ate. Had a regular date. I like it. I liked him. He gave me his number. He said he didn't think I'd call him back. But, I did. Now, it's been four years. We fight a bunch, but not as much as we used to. I love him very much, and it is mutual. And, that has made all the difference. Fin. End.
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