Last night, around 1 am, when I was about to go to bed, I get a text from a number that's not in my phone. It reads:
+1713XXXXXXX: Hey boo
I googled the area code and found that it was a Houston number. I thought, who on earth do I know from Houston who would text me in the middle of the night and call me 'boo', but whose phone number I don't have? I thought maybe it was a wrong number, so I replied:
Phillip Wilde: Who is this? +1713XXXXXXX: [Lip ring]
(Oh shit, what the hell does he want?)
PW: Oh. What's up? Lip Ring: Nm. Visiting [my central Texas town] LR: Single
(That whore! He probably thinks I'm going to hook up with him just because he's single again. *gags*)
PW: Well good for you. I'm not. LR: Umm ok just saying hi LR: Rude PW: Wasn't trying to be rude. Just letting you know up front. LR: I wasn't looking for dick...just sayimg [sic] hi PW: Never said you were. I just thought that since you established that you're single, it seemed appropriate to establish that I'm not.
(Three minutes without a response.)
PW: So how are you doing? LR: Just drinking.. u? LR: [blank message]
(That's not a response to "how are you doing?", you dumbass. That's a response to "what are you doing?".)
PW: Doing schoolwork.
(Seven minutes without a response.)
PW: I guess you're not going to say anything else then.
(Another seven minutes without a response.)
PW: Okay then. I'm going to bed. Have fun with whatever it is you're doing wherever you're doing it.
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Then around 10 this morning, I was actually feeling a bit guilty about how I spoke to him last night, so I sent him this text:
PW: I realize I was a bit short with you last night, but you should know why. You didn't exactly treat me well in the past.
I didn't get a response, but I figured maybe he was just still asleep. Later, a bit after 1 this afternoon, I send him this:
PW: If you want to mend this bridge, I'm willing to cooperate, but you have to make the first step.
And I meant it. I'm tired of being bitter. If he would just bloody apologize, show some damn remorse, I would forgive him. Certainly not forget, but at least maybe then I could stop caring about what he did. I thought I had already gotten to that point, but hearing from him again brought back all those old desires to kick him in the crotch.
When it got to be almost 6:30 this evening, it seemed pretty clear that he was ignoring my texts. Typical. So the last thing I sent him said:
PW: Gone back to your old standard of ignoring me, I see. Let me know when you're done behaving like a three-year-old.
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So basically, he's still the same asshole he always has been. Maybe some day, he'll realize that and cut it the fuck out. Not likely, but a boy can dream, can't he?
So glad that Lomond is sane. I wish I hadn't had to turn down several invitations to go out with him this week, but I am buried beneath an entire mountain range of schoolwork, and being the thrice university graduate he is, he understands. Hallelujah!
Now for sleep. I am determined to dig myself out from underneath this crap by the time I go to bed on Monday.
In the postscript to my last post, I alluded to something having happened. Well that happened and quickly fizzled out. Let's just call the guy "Pendejo" and move on.
Anyway, January rolls around and I join a different, much more reputable dating site, one that measures compatibility and all that crap. No, not that one. A free one without discriminatory policies. Within a week, I was talking to about five or six different guys with varying rates of seriousness. Eventually, one who actually was in my town suggested we meet for coffee. I was a little wary and not really sure how interested I was in this guy, particularly because he was six years older than I am and did not seem to photograph well. But not wanting to be rude, I made myself look all purty and scheduled a coffee date at the local coffee shop on the edge of campus, about three hours before my German class, so I could have an out if I wanted one, but we could also have a decent amount of time to talk if we hit it off.
Well, we hit it off. That first coffee date was a little awkward, but it's always a little awkward meeting someone new, especially when you're both semi-closeted gay men trying to keep a low profile at a coffee shop frequented by students and professors from the unnamed Baptist university of which I am a student and he is an alumnus. We both ran into people we knew, at which times the other just stood there quietly. Hanyway, so it turns out that we have rather similar interests. We both love music and languages, but while I chose to focus on studying languages, he focused on music. He holds a BM and an MM from the unnamed Baptist university. And an MDiv, but let's not get into that right now. He has also now applied to an MA program in French at a certain large state university in our state's capital. So yeah, he's definitely an educated guy.
And I know this sounds a bit rush-y, but four days and three dates later we each had our first boyfriend. He's a bit of a late bloomer, which makes the age difference not seem like as big of a deal. So we've been together for two and a half months now. He's met my best friends; I've met his. We're both busy people with wonky, unbalance schedules, so we don't get see each other every day, but that works just fine for us. It keeps us both from getting to clingy. We do have some sort of contact every day, be it a phone call, text message, or Facebook whatever, but at this point, we don't really need to see each other every day.
When we are together, we talk about music, languages, politics, and our lives, interspersed with beer, wine, food, clever Britcom, beautiful Danish films, and various amorous activites. It's always a pleasant experience.
So yes, I have a boyfriend, and for the purposes of this blog, he shall be called "Lomond".
In other news, I am buried beneath a mountain of schoolwork, trying to dig myself out in order to graduate. I'll be fine. Just thought I'd
Now I leave you with a video of the song "Prom Tonight" from the 2001 comedy classic Not Another Teen Movie, because it's been stuck in my head all damn day.
You may recognize a few actors who later went on to a good amount of fame, namely Chyler Leigh of Grey's Anatomy, Chris Evans of the Fantastic Four, and Jaime Pressly of My Name Is Earl. See? Good things can come from doing a silly parody film.
But life is kind of shitting all over me right now.
But since I'm the idiot who positioned himself directly beneath life's ass, I have no one to blame but myself for the steaming pile in which I am currently lying.
Not going to go into too much detail, but basically I'm a dumbass who constantly repeats the same dumbass mistakes. I still have my hopeful outlook that things will eventually be better, but right now I have a lot of self-inflicted life-feces to wade through before that can happen.
Don't worry about me, though. I'll deal with it like I always do.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming...
-PW
P.S. - Since my last post, there actually has been an event in my life relevant to this blog's original theme, but I don't feel like blogging about it right now. I'll tell y'all about it once I've gotten some sleep and had a few beers.
Yesterday, I was in the car with my Mom. She was taking me back to my apartment after spending a few hours at her place. We weren't really talking much. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable silence. We were just tired.
Then, in my head, I started thinking about how I should come out to my Mom.
Mom, we need to talk. You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you, but there's nothing you or anyone else can do to change it...
Thankfully it was dark, so she couldn't see how red my ears got just at the thought of it. I wanted to say it right then, but I knew that was a terrible place and an inconvenient time. So I still don't know when I will come out to Mom, but at least I have decided how I'm going to start it.
Sorry this isn't a very interesting post. I just felt the need to put it down in words. And it's not like I have that many readers anyway.
I just realized that the day after my last post was this blog's first birthday, so happy belated birthday to this silly little outlet of mine.
But the reason I'm here is that it's National Coming Out Day. I am so glad that we've come so far, that we have a day dedicated to being open and happy with who you are. I am sad, however, that we still have so far to go and that I have to let another National Coming Out Day pass me by without any bold action on my part.
It's not that I don't want to, but well, y'all know why I can't.
But I'm content enough with my current situation: out to some, in to others. It's just until I graduate anyway. In the meantime, I need to focus on my schoolwork - reading, writing, researching, studying, taking the GRE, writing my thesis, applying to Master's programs, and so on.
I still don't know when and how I can come out to my parents, and I know I can never be truly out to the world without being out to them. That's another big hurdle. What I've always said is that I would come out to my parents once I lived in a different town. Hopefully, I will be this time next year, at grad school somewhere.
Since I don't really have any relationship-type news to report, I'll instead discuss some things that have been on my mind/in my life that have been kind of camp.
While I was in Germany, I really got to love H&M, for cheap, fun and stylish clothes. I was very sad to find that there are no H&M stores in Texas, so in an attempt to recapture my H&M love, I went to my local XXI Forever (big store containing all the Forever 21 brands, including the men's brand Heritage 1981). Okay, so their selection for men is definitely more limited than H&M's. An H&M store is about 50% women's, 25% men's and 25% kids'. XXI Forever is about 85% women's, 15% men's. Still, I managed to find a couple things I liked. I ended up just buying a jacket and one of those lightweight scarves that white people love so much.
Here's a photo of me wearing both:
I have also taken to sitting with my legs crossed at the knee, have taken up knitting once again, and am greatly enjoying my yoga class. And last but certainly not least, since the VMAs I have become mildly obsessed with Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, P!nk and Beyoncé.
So have a video of each of them, namely their VMA performances:
My favorite parts of this one are seeing butch lesbian asexual comic Paula Poundstone getting totally into it while looking dreadful at 1:48 and the tone-deaf blonde girl at 3:10.
Also, in the wake of the VMAs, this wonderful cover of "Single Ladies" was brought to my attention:
I am a 23-year-old semi-out-of-the-closet gay man, a recent graduate from an unnamed Baptist university in central Texas. I created this blog after being inspired by my friend Blazing Life. In this blog I shall chronicle my past, present, and future as a gay man in a homophobic world.
The title of this blog refers to the closet, oppressive society, and, to a certain extent, my hometown.
This is my blog, in which I express my personal thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. I respect your right to disagree with me, as long as you are respectful about it. Rude or hateful comments will be deleted.
I also ask that you respect my anonymity and not use my real name (if you know it) in the comments. I use a pseudonym for a reason.
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