Wednesday, June 13, 2012

That's All It Isn't

Basically, you get caught doing something you’re not suppose to be doing. You might get in major trouble so you freak. You scramble around, freaking out and all you can say is “It’s not what you think! It’s not (insert what you were doing). That’s all it isn’t.”

Yeah, so, you just made the situation ten times worse by saying maybe one of the stupidest things imaginable. Now, not only do you have a heart racing like it’s in the Indy 500, but you just possibly said the stupidest thing ever (next to some of Sarah Palin’s comments three years ago. Those are difficult to beat). Now, there you are, caught and suddenly… the perfect catholic girl who caught you walks out of the room.

What? What just happened? She didn’t freak? There wasn’t any blood from the poor girl’s brain exploding after her innocence has been shattered? Now you wonder. Are the rumors true? I mean, I heard a nasty comment once remarked by an untrustworthy individual, but could it be true? Could she be “imperfect”?

At this point, you have to keep your cool. After all, the other person that you were (insert what was happening) with doesn’t know you were caught. He didn’t see. So, you go outside with the other person, pretending nothing happens. Maybe she really didn’t see anything. Maybe she’s cool with it. Whatever the case may be, there was no confrontation, thus the best case scenario for being caught had happened.

Then, she comes outside. Alone. Not hanging out with your sister who she had come over to see. She walks up to you. And asks you directly, “Are you a couple?”

Now I don’t think it was the best case scenario.

Now someone has seen me with Brian (pseudonym, and only chosen because of the person who just walked by). Brain and I have had this thing for a couple months, but no one but my best friend knew about anything. So, I tell this catholic girl yes, we are a thing. I took Brain back to his place where we talked till the sun went down (which, by the way, was at least six hours). We talked about us. In Utah culture, it might be called a DTR (defining the relationship), but, at the end, instead of saying we were in a relationship we defined ourselves as just brothers.

Yeah. Hell if THAT was true.

I went along with it for a while (by “a while” I mean two years). But, in the end, my first “brother” and I ended our relationship. Not because of distance (which, admittedly, probably had something to do with it), but because of Brian’s inability to accept that he was gay. So, I’m moving on. Haven’t completely lost my feelings for Brian, but at least I’m trying to move past it all. It hurts. I still get very emotional thinking about him and memories such as the first “DTR.” Give me a few months though and those emotions will be blissfully drained out my system in much the same way people use to bleed sick people.

For the record, what the catholic girl caught me and Brian doing was cuddling on a couch. xD And yes, I know what I implied.


  1. Speaking from personal experience as well as the experiences of MANY others (gay, straight, and bi - whatever), firsts are ALWAYS the hardest to get over.

    If I'm honest, I still think about my first girlfriend. I loved her. In many ways I still love her. She was my "first" in many ways. She was my first love, my first real kiss, my first heartbreak, etc. We dated for more than three years and I still think that she was the only girl I could have married.

    Similarly, my first boyfriend was my "first" in many other ways too; he was the first partner I connected to on any physical level and I believed he loved me for who I was - all of me. He is constantly at the back of my mind and regardless of all the bad things in our relationship, my brain only wants to focus on the good and I often miss him fiercely.

    Before I ramble too much more, I just want to say that I'm sorry you miss him - I'm sure you always will. But, on the positive, you had him in your life for those two years and you learned a lot about yourself and what you want out of life and a relationship. Although it can be painful, those lessons are invaluable.

    Good luck bud, know that we are rooting for you!

  2. I like the way you write, Lee.