by Hayden Hunt
And what would happen when I saw him in the hall? When he’d flash me that smile that makes part of me melt? How could I forget about my feelings then?
God damnit, what was I saying? What was I doing? I was a fucking mess.
The sad thing was, I would go to such great lengths to avoid my feelings that in another circumstance, I might actually move to get away from him. It sounded extreme, but I probably would to put the physical distance between us and keep myself from running to him.
But even if I wanted to take such extreme action, I couldn’t here. There was no way I would abandon my grandma’s apartment. It was the only connection to her I had left and I couldn’t imagine leaving.
So I’d have to face this head on. I wasn’t sure right now what that meant. Whether or not I addressed all the positive things about Oliver or whether I made myself fight my feelings and bury things once again.
The latter wasn’t ideal, though. That much was obvious. I had broken down to a complete stranger last night because the feelings in me had become so unbearable. Clearly, it wasn’t healthy for me.
And why not admit it to myself? I wanted to see where else this would lead. I was conflicted, but there was no denying where my feelings were leaning… And they were leaning toward Oliver.
Shit, what was I going to do?
I didn’t have much time to figure it out. As I finished eating, there was a knock at my door and there was only one person it could be.
My heart was pounding as I walked toward the door. When I opened it, there was an angry looking Oliver standing before me.
“Oliver…” I began slowly.
“Look, last night I was confused. I even blamed myself for a bit for what happened because you were clearly uncomfortable. But the more I go over what happened in my head, the more I realized this is not my fault. You came to me, you kissed me. You’ve been messing with my head since you moved in here!” he said with exasperation.
“Since I moved in here?” I asked.
“Yes! I mean, after meeting you last time I didn’t even think you’d show up at my place last night. You seemed like you were enjoying talking to me and then just, bam, you had no interest in me anymore! I don’t get it. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything wrong.”
“You haven’t,” I assured him. “It’s me, it’s all been me.”
“Well, can you get it together? Maybe don’t kiss a guy and then run right out his door?”
I sighed. “Do you want to come in?” I asked him.
He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re sure you’re not going to kick me out five minutes from now over some arbitrary bullshit.”
“I won’t,” I confirmed.
He nodded and hesitantly walked inside and sat on my couch.
“I owe you an apology. Several apologies, actually. You’re right, I’ve been hot and cold with you.”
“You have.” He nodded. “What I don’t understand is why.”
“I don’t really understand, myself,” I admitted. “The thing is, I don’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
I had no idea how I was going to word this. It was hard enough to think about it without saying it out loud.
“I find myself interested in you. Attracted to you, I guess I’d say. I don’t really have feelings like this with other people. I don’t need a lot of social interaction. I keep to myself usually. I’ve never felt drawn to somebody the way I feel drawn to you. It’s confusing for me…”
He eyed me seriously. “And it’s weirder because I’m a man, right?”
He easily read between the lines.
“Honestly, yeah. It is. I’m straight, but…”
“But you kissed me.”
“Right.”
We were quiet for a moment.
“To be fair, it would be a little weird if you were a woman, too,” I told him. “I haven’t had this kind of experience with a woman, either. I haven’t had these experiences with anyone.”
“Wait, are you saying you’ve never been in a relationship?”
“Not really, no.” But I was reminded of that one time in high school…
“What is it?” he asked, reading my facial expression.
“There was this one time, but it was a misunderstanding… And it was so long ago, back in high school.”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
I looked at him. I didn’t want to tell him. I did my best to push this memory out of my mind. Now I was supposed to bring it back up with a total stranger?
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked. “You want to. I know that you want to. I can see you dying to get this off your chest, the same way you were last night. It’s okay, you know. To open up to someone else. That’s what the human experience is all about.”
I took in a deep breath. “Okay. You remember how I said I had a falling out with my parents?”
“Yes, I do. Why?”
“Well, that happened in high school. I had this best friend, his name was James. James and I had been really close since we were in elementary school. He came over to my house every weekend, he was like family to me. He was like family to my parents, too.”
I paused. I hadn’t told this story out loud before.
He nodded. “Go on.”
“Well, one night James came over and he was completely distraught. He said he had something very important to tell me. He told me that I meant so much to him and not in a best friend kind of way. He was in love with me and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t anymore.”
“Wow…” Oliver whispered. “What did you say?”
“I mean, I tried to shut it down, honestly. I told him that he was my best friend but I didn’t feel that way about him. He denied this, he told me I was lying to myself. And he kissed me… Which was the exact moment my parents walked in.”
It clicked for him. “And they weren’t exactly accepting of homosexuality, I take it?”
“Absolutely not. They were devoutly religious. I remember the way my mom screamed when she saw us. You’d think someone had just stabbed her in the stomach. She acted like I destroyed her. She was the only one who actually saw it. My father only came when he heard her screaming.”
“But he didn’t react any better?”
“No. Worse, in fact. He didn’t scream like I had just ruined him, but he grabbed James by his arms and marched him downstairs and out of the house. I had never seen him so angry. James was wailing, saying that he was sorry, but my father didn’t say a word in response. I followed them downstairs because I was scared for James, I didn’t know what my Dad was going to do to him at first. He opened the front door and tossed him out of the house. And I mean literally tossed, I watched him trip over the steps to our front door and skid along the ground.”
“Oh my God!” Oliver said in horror. “Was he okay?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to check in on him. I went to the door to open it but as soon as my hand was on the door, my dad grabbed my arm and threw me down. And then I stopped worrying for James and started worrying for myself.”
“What happened? What did he do?”
“He started screaming that I was an abomination. ‘How could you do this to us?’ he kept yelling. I tried to explain it was just a misunderstanding. James kissed me, and I didn’t even feel anything toward him! It was nothing! It was his problem, not mine.”
“But they didn’t accept that as an answer?”
“No, they didn’t believe me. My father said he’d had his suspicions for a long time. There was nothing I could say to convince him by that point. He already decided he was done with me. He told me I get one suitcase to pack and then I better be out of his house. I was bawling, pleading with him to listen to me, but he just told me I had thirty minutes.”
“Oh my God… I’m so sorry. And your mother didn’t even try to stop him?”
“Nope. She was crying in a corner of the living
room the entire time I was getting my stuff. When it finally came time for me to leave, I walked over to her and pleaded with her to not do this to me. I was only sixteen at the time, and I had nowhere to go. Now I know what they did wasn’t even legal, but at the time I was clueless and scared.”
“What did she say to you?”
“That I should have thought about that before I chose to disobey the Lord’s law. That she regretted her choice to have me.”
“Holy fuck, that is so despicable. I can’t… I just can’t imagine anyone being so horrible to their own kids. And, God how you must have felt as a teenager going through that.”
“Honestly, it was pretty horrific.”
“Whatever happened to James?”
“I have no clue. After I left, immediately called my grandmother to tell her what happened. She came and got me and I went to live with her here, which is hours away from my hometown. I never spoke to James again.”
“Seriously? Never again? But surely you had his number, or had him on social media…”
“Oh, I did. But I never reached out to him and he didn’t to me, either. I’m sure for him it was a really traumatic experience and I only served as a reminder of it.”
“Is that what happened to you? He reminded you of the trauma? Is that why you never wanted to speak to him again?” Oliver asked.
“I mean, in a way he was. But that wasn’t why I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Then why not?”
“I guess… I don’t know. He had confessed feelings that I couldn’t reciprocate. It would have been awkward to try and rekindle our friendship. It would never be the same. He felt for me romantically and I didn’t feel for him.”
“You didn’t?” he asked skeptically. “There was nothing you felt for him?”
“No, not really. I cared for him, of course, he was my best friend. But romantically? No. There was nothing there.”
“So the kiss meant nothing to you?”
“That’s the confusing part. While I really believe I didn’t feel attracted to him romantically, the kiss actually did feel nice. And I had kissed other girls around that age, but this was somehow better. Even though I didn’t like him. And… it did confuse me for a long time.”
“Confused about your sexuality, you mean?”
“Right. But that’s the thing. I already figured it out. I did a lot of thinking on this and I decided that I’m not gay, I’m straight. I like women.”
“Except for, you know, never having been with a woman?”
“Yeah, well… I don’t know. Like I said, I’ve never been drawn to another person before, man or woman. I guess James was the closest I ever got but…” No, I probably shouldn’t say that. It was a little much.
“But what?”
“But what I felt for him pales in comparison to what I think I’m already feeling for you. The kiss with him was the first kiss that ever felt good but… But yours was so much better. Kissing you was fucking fantastic. You are…”
“What? I’m what?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just, I like you, Oliver. I really do. And I don’t know why. And I’m sorry I keep pulling away but this shit is really fucking confusing for me. Because I really thought I had this figured out before.”
“Look, I’m not you, so I couldn’t possibly tell you how you feel. Nobody can do that but you. But I’ll throw my two cents out there and say that maybe you ‘figured out’ that you were straight because that’s what you wanted to believe. Maybe that’s just what you convinced yourself of.”
“But why? Why would I do that? I know my parents are total assholes, but I’ve never been homophobic myself or anything.”
“Maybe your parents are why. Maybe it was their reaction to you… Maybe in a way, you didn’t want to feel responsible for what happened. And you aren’t responsible, either way, I want you to know. But I’m sure to a confused kid… I’m sure it’s easier to shift blame to them if you can tell yourself that you weren't even gay. That it all happened for no reason.”
He hit the nail on the head.
“Yeah… That, uh, that sounds about right.” I buried my head in my hands.
Just like last night, Oliver moved to me and put his hand on my back in a comforting way. It reminded me of the way my grandma used to comfort me.
Of course, I felt a lot of things for him that I never felt for my grandma.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“I don’t know. I just feel like all the trauma of my life is hitting me all at once. I’ve never taken the time to reflect on any of this before. And it fucking sucks. This is so fucking hard. To lose my grandma, to finally realize all of the bullshit my parents put me through. I don’t know…”
“That’s kind of what happens, though, when you bury everything. Eventually, it all comes back to you. Usually all at once and usually twice as hard. But you don’t need to deal with it alone, you know. If you don’t want to.”
I looked at him. I felt the same exact thing I felt last night except, this time, I was completely sober.
And I still wanted to kiss him.
I did exactly that, leaned in to kiss him. But he pulled away for a second.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t want to send you running for the hills again,” he said softly.
“I won’t,” I told him. “Not this time. This time the only thing I want to do was stay.”
I put a gentle hand on his face as our lips intertwined. It was the perfect moment.
I was filled with a warmth I’d never felt before. Chills ran down my spine. It felt so much better sober than it did drunk.
“Why are you so beautiful?” I asked him.
He laughed. “I’ve never been asked that before. Not sure how to answer it.”
“I guess there is no answer. You just are. You make me feel so safe. Being with you is… Well, it’s something really special.” He pulled me into his arms and I rested my head on his chest again.
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
“I’m still confused, though,” I told him. “I’m still not ready to make a decision on my entire sexuality.”
“Do you really have to?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve got the important part figured out, right?”
“And what is that, exactly?” I asked him.
“That you care about me. That there is a connection between us. Isn't that the only thing there is to explore right now?”
“You’re right,” I told him.
And he was. At this point, I didn’t care what I was. Bi, straight, gay, what did it matter? For the first time in my life, I met someone I felt a real connection with. I didn’t know him that well yet, I’d admit that.
But I’d been able to open up with him in a way that I’d never been able to open up with anyone. There was something special about that. There was some kind of magic in the way that I felt about him.
And, for the moment, that was all I cared about.
6
Oliver
I had only spent a few weeks with Gabe, but already, they felt like the best few weeks of my life.
I understood why everything was so amazing for him. This was his first actual relationship. This was the point where he started accepting that maybe he could love a man. And it’d all been very romantic.
The real question was, why was I so wrapped up in all this?
It wasn’t my first discovery that I was gay. On the contrary, I had known about my sexuality since I was a teenager. Although it was a lot easier for me than Gabe, considering my parents were angels.
So the reason I had for being so enthralled with Gabe was something different. Maybe it was based on the fact that I had never really felt anything serious before.
Sure, I may have dated many men. But they never really meant anything. Things never got deep with them. They were fun, casual things. We went out to night clubs, dinner dates, we had a lot of sex.
But we didn't talk about childhoods or delve int
o the pain that we’d experienced in our lives the way me and Gabe had. That was something different and it felt so much more real to me.
I wasn’t nearly as repressed as Gabe was. I may never have opened up to a boyfriend before, but I had opened up to friends. I hadn’t bottled everything deep down the way he had, poor thing.
But still, it was nice to have this kind of relationship with a boyfriend rather than a best friend.
Boyfriend… I probably shouldn't have been using that word, since we had never had a serious discussion about what we were.
That was how I thought of him, though. In my mind, he was my boyfriend. He was more my boyfriend than any man had ever been, even if it wasn’t official yet. And I had a hard time believing he didn't think of me as his boyfriend too.
I wasn’t going to bring it up, though, not right now. It was too risky. He was so easily scared. Not since we had been together, though. He’d seemed a lot more secure since we’d been spending time with each other every day. Still, better safe than sorry. I liked him a lot, which meant I really needed to take things slow.
I had just finished up with my nightly shift at the flower shop when I went over to Gabe’s apartment. The bouquet I initially made him was now dying so I wanted to bring another one by. It was quite as extravagant as the first one I’d done for him, but it was still very pretty. And I knew he’d appreciate it regardless.
Apparently romance was in the air because when his door opened I realized I wasn’t the only one who thought to do something special tonight.
All along his living room, he had placed a bunch of white candles. The room was dimly lit and there was a gorgeous looking chicken dinner sitting on the table.
“Aw, you got flowers! You’re so sweet!” he cooed as he took the vase from me and set them in the middle of his gorgeously set dining room table.
“Uh, not as sweet as you! What is all this?”
In true gentlemanly fashion, he took off my jacket from behind me and placed it on his coat rack.
“I just wanted to have a special night. Here, have a seat. I made rosemary chicken.”
