I suppose that life creates people who become filters for the unique aspects of their lives. Strong female rights activists see the world as one large feminist ordeal. People with eating difficulties constantly notice the prevalence of food in society. I have carried the burden (and blessing) of same-gender attraction, and thus I tend to see life for all of its gayness. I find homoerotic quotes in literature, I identify the stereotypically gay traits of my friends, and I even subconsciously (and occasionally consciously) probe people to fully determine the extent of their gayness. It's a mind game from which I derive much pleasure and occasional bits of knowledge.
The new university setting has been full of people to potentially probe (alliteration!), and thus I have been at my happiest. I was quite shocked, however, when my game granted atypical results. I have frequently been successful in identifying personal barriers and breaking points in my friends relative to "gay comfort" levels. (This is all done with much subtlety and tact, of course.) Thus, when I engaged in this mental pleasure of mine with a man to whom I was attracted, I was shocked to be led hand in hand to any depth that I dictated.
I met this guy (who needs a pseudonym...any suggestions?) through a mutual friend on campus, and we spent the first hours of our acquaintance on a dance floor where I was continually entreated to dance within his circle. I had no hesitation, and the night was quite enjoyable. Later that night, I was privileged to play my game with him, only to find that he matched my flirtation to every level that I took it. In fact, it was Mr. I-need-a-blogger-pseudonym who took it the furthest; he suggested the homosexual relationship between my dormitory, which is affectionately called "Bend Over Stover" and his own, "Gay May." I had been out-flirted gay style.
And then tonight, as we spoke, things escalated. We spoke of our childhoods. I was invited to visit his new house in Denver. He asked for my phone number. When a girl was taking a piece of fuzz off of my shirt, he asked if she needed help and began massaging me. I walked him to his dorm.
I may be at fault for mental embellishment, but I can't help but to notice that I have been matched or outdone by this guy in an flirtatious endeavor. And (un)fortunately for me, I am quite enamored with the boy. I could write an entire post on his excellent qualities, but I'll save that for a further development; I don't yet know if I'll be using his qualities to highlight the incredible man that he is or to lament his name. Time will tell.
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3 comments:
First of all, I have to question the sexuality of Helaman Halls as a whole... My freshmen year, there was a group of potentially gay guys they referred to as the Budge-packers. With Stover and May also joining the gay parade, that's like...half of Helaman Halls!
As far as the rest of your post, I don't have much to say... other than I know how you feel. It's really exciting when there are those elements of curiosity, mystery, and attraction... and then to have them validated... it's one of those situations that makes your heart (and mind) start racing. That being said, set your own boundaries because you can never count on someone else's... and sometimes you can't even count on your own :P
And while I'm commenting, I totally agree with your last post about the feelings you get around other mohos. I first noticed it when I was spending an extra amount of time getting ready when I was going to hang out. Was I just aware that these people were generally more fashion-conscious? Or was I trying to make myself more attractive? I'm sure there was a bit of both. And then I would find myself wanting to talk more with certain guys (the ones I was attracted to, although I wouldn't admit it at the time). In short, it becomes really hard to be honest with yourself as to your motives. And if you let things continue without putting up any roadblocks, you find yourself justifying a lot of things you wouldn't have considered earlier.
Anyways... enough rambling from me. :P
It's just interesting to me to see how, from an anthropological stand point when the girl was making a play by picking at lint, this guy jumped right up to say, "No! Mine!" And if he were a monkey, he'd've flung sticks and such.
Interesting are the days of youth, I s'pose.
I agree with Mr. Gobiddles. I'm interested to see where you guys go. And it's sweet to finally eb able to be on your bog. I might have to link you from mine.
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