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I’m the reason I’m so fucked-up? Sounds like a scam.
If being gay hadn’t already reserved my spot, this is what would send me to hell.
I’m really craving sex. Not in a horny way, but in a way where I’m with someone. Where I can touch freely. Kiss.
Anyone can be a judgmental asshole, and the internet gives them free rein to do it.
“I have thought about it.” “That wasn’t long enough.” “Yes it was, because the answer is simple. I want you. I want you now. And if I have to face the reality I’ve been hiding from for the last seventeen years to have you, then I will. Because I didn’t let this happen once before, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again.”
Full and logical thought process? Who needs that when you can have hot and heavy man-on-man action that results in orgasms?
Stress can also lead to heart attacks. I don’t want him to have a heart attack. I need his heart. I’m going to win it one day.
What straight men don’t realize most of the time is that it’s literally that easy for them. No overthinking. No questioning every choice. It’s a word. An action. An adjustment to their belief. With something so easy, they’ve not only made me feel safe but human. I wish everyone understood the impact they could have by doing so little.
“I’ll go. If you want me there.” He scoffs. “Now who speaks bad English?” “How was that bad English?” “Because it makes no sense. I want you everywhere with me.”
It’s giving each other the trust needed to let ourselves free-fall into love.
“I trust you.” And in this moment, I realize I trust him too. With everything. Even my heart.
It’s the world every queer person should be living in. We deserve happiness too, and I’ve found mine. With Novi.
