Half Gay Fully Regretful

When I was in college, whenever I’d get high, I’d open up tinder and enable the function that allowed me to view and be viewed by the accounts of other men. 

When I was high, or drunk enough, I could suddenly admit to myself that I was genuinely, also attracted to men. It shouldn’t be too surprising to myself, that it was always a very difficult thing for me to accept, considering my extremely religious upbringing in a west african culture rife with bigotry, and my formative adolescent years being spent adopting a new culture once I immigrated, that of the black american man, which was also, not a safe space for any sort of queerisms. 

I remember very distinctly seeing a CNN special in the late 2000s, which featured a scene of two men kissing, I felt genuinely disgusted when I saw it. It’s funny to me now then, that I’ve spent a fair amount of time lamenting the fact that I never did text that beautiful boy I met in college. 

I don’t remember his name, but I do very distinctly remember the day we met. In my college cafeteria, there was a particular art installation. Hundreds of glass raindrops suspended from our ceiling, when the sun was in the right position, I mean I just can’t put into words the dance of lights, and reflections, and rainbows, and rays of sun. Somehow, this insane light show converged upon him, sitting by himself, two tables away from my lunch group. His hair was like straw,long, blonde, ending right at his shoulders. He had these annoying blue eyes to top it all off too! 

ITS SO FUCKING ANNOYING WHEN BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE GET BEAUTIFUL EYES TOO ISNT IT?!?  

I only remember these features in hindsight because at the time, the thing that struck me and drew me to him was that all over his arms were many scars that resembled my own. So I went over and talked to him. I don’t quite remember what we talked about, maybe the scars and some other things, but I do remember that he smiled very… thinly(?) in a very gentle way. 

At the end of the chat, he gave me his number, and told me to text him. I NEVER DID!!!! I was still clinging on to my pretend heterosexuality AND I NEVER TEXTED HIM!!!!!!! It’s been years! and I still think about kissing him so very often! Even now as I write this! My heart is rapidly fluttering!! I’ll probably never find him, I don’t know his name or what he was studying at that god forsaken art school, and even if I did, it’s been so long we’re both probably such different people now that it's likely that we wouldn’t connect in the same way, I had a beard back then! 

UGH! REGRET!! 

Yknow who I did kiss though, one of my supposed friends. He was this really performative type of social justice person yknow? Self proclaimed feminist with a shitty stick n poke tattoo of the “female” symbol somewhere on him. He was allll about anarchy and shit yknow? Hilariously, he is currently now in the US army. Anyway, my first relationship was a really rocky one, but this girl I was dating, man she was a total smokeshow. I mean people would stop us FREQUENTLY on the street to tell her how beautiful she was, and of course, as one of my neighbors, this older black lady put it: “with all that honey, you’re gonna attract a few bears!” 

many bears there were, and one of them happened to be this very friend of mine. I mean over the course of months, he listened to me lament over my relationship issues with this girl and reassure me that he had my back and was there for me. One of the many times her and I broke up, he and I had such a great hang out session and talk, that by the end of it, even though I was still very committed to my compulsive heterosexuality, I looked at him and said “I feel like I could kiss you right now” and so we did. He was the first man I kissed. He also ended up having sex with that very girl when I went off to college, and so did his best friend, who I also happened to be friends, and even attended the same college with. 

I kissed him, but not the beautiful, sweet, angelic boy I would later meet. It’s become a pattern in my life, I always choose the shittier option for myself. 

I haven’t had any relationships of any non platonic sense with men since, besides confessing my feelings for one of my long term best friends only after he got into a relationship. He had frequently flirted with me, made allusions to wanting to fuck me, and even smacked my ass while I walked by one evening at our weekly “boys nights”. Yet, I never felt anything more than platonic for him until he was no longer an option. 

Quaint. 

My confession kinda ruined our friendship in a subtle way. 

All this is to say, being pansexual is hell, men are kind of a nightmare sometimes, and I hate the christians VEHEMENTLY.