Let’s start at the beginning.

Let’s start at the beginning.

I met Nick at work, and he was the first guy I thought I loved. I know that I had feelings for other men before him, but there was just something about him that made me like him. It could have been the fact that he called me a faggot, and it became a huge manifestation of the self-hatred I had for myself. Or maybe it was because I thought he hated himself as much as I did, and that’s why he treated me the way that he did, but I liked him.

I used to fantasize about sleeping with him. But let me spell this out for you. I did not fantasize about having sex with him. I just really wanted to sleep next to him. I craved that closeness and that feeling that someone would want to love you as much as you loved them. I fantasized about cuddling with him and just kissing him.

He made me realize that I wanted that feeling no matter what I had to do to get it. He became the first step in realizing that I had to come out to be happy. And though I wish I could forget him, and I’m happy that he no longer controls my emotions like he used to, he taught me how to find happiness.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Zak was the first guy that showed any interest in me. I still remember the day I met him. I didn’t even notice him when I stepped into the local bar we were both at, but he immediately stole my attention. He was wearing a maroon extended neck sweater with these terrible boots, and I didn’t care. I grabbed his hat from him and put in on my head. He laughed.

He excited me because it was possible to feel good about being in love. I spent a lot of time trying to understand why I loved him even though I knew he could never love me the same way. But he always made me feel good and not just like in the general sense of the word. He made me feel like he would drop anything to see me and be with me and love me in ways no one ever makes me feel.

But I ruined whatever that was, and I miss him all the time. But I know what it’s like to feel those things, and I want them back.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Dan was the ideal guy for me. He was so masculine, but still so obsessed with me. He always wanted to talk to me, and I always wanted to talk to him. Whenever I saw his name on my phone, I was so excited to see it, and I didn’t want to seem obsessive… but I clearly was. And he was always talking to me about the girl he was dating at the time, but he always looked to me to love him and compliment him and give him attention.

And if I learned anything from him, it was that I needed to give myself more attention.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Thomas was the first gay guy that showed any interest in me that I was also interested in. Even though I didn’t quite find him attractive at first, he rebounded. And after we got sushi together, I was infatuated. It felt great to have someone as interested in me as I was in him. He wanted me to give him my opinion of how he looked in clothes. He wanted to make sure I was okay and in a good mood whenever we were together. And it made me feel good that someone cared about me that much.

I remember one night I was drinking champagne, and he told me he’d never seen someone drink something as fiercely as me. I remember blushing because I never thought someone would be that infatuated with me as he was in that moment.

I still haven’t experienced that level since then. And to this day, I often wish that I could’ve done something differently because I want that mutual attraction. I want to feel like he made me feel. But sometimes, even though things seem to line up perfectly, they’re just not meant to be.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Shawn was in the program I just started at school and he was awful. He never liked me no matter how hard I tried to make it seem like I was a good person worthy of his time. He never made me feel like I was good enough for him, and maybe he was right. I don’t understand what I ever saw/still see in him, but now I know that no one deserves to feel how he made me feel.

Let’s start at the beginning.

The way I met Micah was inappropriate, but the way he made me feel was astounding. Micah made me feel desired. I remember the first time he came over, he said, “I know you’ll be happy.”

And for some reason, I believed him. I believed him because I thought that he was the “happy.” I thought that he was going to show what real love looked like because he made me feel like I was important to him. And maybe I was, and maybe he was just using me to get ahead in life. And the latter seems like the more reasonable option, but why would he do that to me? And why can’t I seem to just get whatever it is that I need. Because I’m not sure what it is that I’m supposed to have, but I know that I don’t have it. He clearly didn’t want me, so why did I want him? But I guess you shouldn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t want one with you.

Let’s start at the beginning.

I think Paul is the most perfect man I’ve ever met. He owns the bar I like to frequent, and he’s so cute, has a great personality, is nice, and has money. And I used to be the person that legitimately put money on a pedestal as if it were something that my significant other needed to have, but it’s just an innocent bystander with him. If he were poor, I’d probably still feel this way because he makes me feel desirable.

But he has a wife and kid, and he’s clearly straight. But he still flirts with me because he knows I love him, and he very obviously likes the attention. But why can’t he understand that every time he flirts with me, it hurts. Why can’t he understand that I’ve been craving these feelings for so long, and I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like anymore, so I just hold on to any form of them. Because all I want is to feel excited about someone and have him feel excited about me. I want to be chosen. And why can’t I have that? And why do I feel like I don’t deserve it? And why am I continuously traveling backwards after all this time? Why haven’t I learned the lesson? But the worst part is… why don’t I want to learn the lesson?

Let’s start at the beginning… and let’s hope I learned my lesson.

This goes out to every boy that helped me write this.


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