Bromosexual

by Daryl Banner

That’s the shittiest thing about coming out as a gay man. You never do it just once and have the damned thing over with. You have to come out over and over again your whole life. Who do I tell? Who do I not tell? Am I acting too gay? Should I “straighten” up for a certain crowd? Do I let my queer flag wave when it’s a bunch of women around me who are having fun? Do I play “gay bestie” now, or “asexual Ken-doll-crotch buddy”, or just me? And for that matter, who the fuck is “just me”? I’m busy playing so many damned roles in every different setting of my life that sometimes I lose track of who Ryan Caulfield really is.

Growing up is terrifying. When you’re young, you have this feeling inside of you that you’ll eventually get the chance to do and try everything in life, because life looks so infinitely long from the perspective of a kid. Then suddenly, you realize that every choice you make unchooses all the other ones. This isn’t a video game. There’s no reset button and no infinite lives. Every single decision I make is permanent, and the more I make, the slimmer my path becomes in this shrinking, dark forest we call adulthood.