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It doesn’t even make sense. My life is good. Great, really. Why the fuck I need to poke around too deep in it and voluntarily fuck myself up about things is anybody’s guess.
I don’t have to.
I could just go to the party and ignore that stupid, potentially-making-things-complicated-for-myself, curious part of my brain.
But.
That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past six months.
It’s not working.
Six months of ignoring the fact that the kiss did something. Felt different somehow. For all I know it was just the novelty of kissing a guy. I never have before.
But lately I—for lack of a better word—notice people.
Differently.
More.
It was subtle at first. So subtle I didn’t even realize I was doing it.
Until I checked out a guy in the gym. Or I’m somewhat certain I did. It’s a bit of a debate I’m having with myself late at night when I’m supposed to be sleeping. Did I? Or didn’t I?
It’s as if I’m suddenly more aware of other people. Of myself. My brain’s been reprogrammed to see things I haven’t before. To think about things I haven’t before.
There’s some sort of new, niggling uncertainty that’s never been there before.
Like a splinter in my brain.
How can you not know?
Because it should be fairly obvious. I either get turned on by dudes or I don’t.
Well, turns out it’s not obvious at all.
And it’s confusing as fuck.
It’s confusing as fuck trying to purposefully yet discreetly check out guys to see if it does something to me.
It’s confusing as fuck to remember that you went to see Captain America three times when you were fifteen, and wonder whether that was because you liked the movie or if the appeal was in something completely different.
It’s confusing as fuck to search out online tests and take them to see if you might get a conclusive answer out of them.
It’s confusing as fuck to suddenly feel like you don’t know yourself. Because if, potentially, I’ve been walking around for twenty-two years not knowing I’m… not straight, then who’s to say there aren’t more surprises in store somewhere inside me?
It’s the uncertainty that annoys me the most. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to.
So I have to know. Somehow.
It’s the only way to move forward, instead of being in this weird limbo.
Standing still is something I can’t afford. I need to concentrate. On hockey. On my education.
I don’t have time for an existential crisis, for fuck’s sake!
My point is, I have to figure this shit out.
Even if I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.
