Early morning confession

To myself (mostly),
I finally began my entries onto this website, because my emotions or feelings wouldn't rest or let me take a rest. They swelled up and urged me on to present my thoughts, mostly for myself. For anyone who happens to stumble across these, here's just another person's capricious feelings of 3:05 am. So a short story that I happen to remember in the midst of this metaphorical shroud of loneliness hanging past my ceiling...one of my first unrequited gay crushes. My mind's still hazy to all that went past in sophomore year of high school, but I can definitely recall how wrongly I fell into this...him. For as long as I could feel, I almost always fall for any guy that shows me attention, I took it as he liked me or cared about me. The beginning was freshmen year when I noticed a tall, quite handsome face, a head taller than the usual school crowd. Let's call him Roger. Instant attraction would strike anyone with his looks...then it happened that one of my friends was in the same class as him and I kind of attracted attention by hyperactively laughing and falling to the ground. Roger, not unsociable, noticed and said "Whoa, calm down" in a cool demeanor, I was so darn nervous, but of course extremely happy that it was the first time he spoke to me. That was the end of our contact until the next year, where I found out he had the same class with me everyday. But it wasn't a love that blooms in fiction books, but another case of pain and joy, and in the end not knowing if you wanted this to happen again if you had the chance. While writing I thought I was very unclear on the details, but it seems my mind won't let me forget the things I used to consider important. I remember our second meeting, the guy sat only 2 seats behind me. While another friend of mine and I chatted, he overheard and joined in on the conversation, before I knew it, I had gotten a really funny, ok just plain wierd, nickname from him by the end of the class. What was I suppose to think? The guy listened to us talk and even intervened, did he have an interest in becoming friends with us like I hoped, or perhaps he was just being affable. I'm horrible at being the first to talk to a guy probably because I'm afraid he'll find out I might like him or afraid of "the label" that some people already thought about me. I didn't try present myself in that way, but that's just how my personality seemed to fit what I was. So him making that first move to talk to me, just made me all that much more obsessed. Even though he was the first to talk, I still didn't have the nerves to talk back to him, but of course I tried attracting his attention, so I could wallow in those happy times he actually responded. It went on like this for awhile until near end of fall.

Early winter, while many students were outside the classroom waiting for the teacher he touched the hood of my hoodie I was wearing. He rubbed it exclaiming how soft it was and how good it felt?? meanwhile asking my friends isn't it soft? Of course I was a nervous wreck and couldn't say a word, but I pulled away, afraid he might think my hair smelled bad. ha. I had a super sense of self-consciousness. And his playfulness only got more frequent. Another time, while we were working, a question came up that I didn't know what kind of music this famous artist played (I still don't know). He pulled out his ipod and headphones and just put them on my head. It was another freak out in my mind, I couldn't stand it...the happiness I felt, everytime he does stuff like this. There would be joy and a little more hope that surged through me. Just like the time after working on worksheets in class, he suddenly put his headphones on me again without warning, playing music for me. The anxiety kicked in, I took off the headphones and handed it to him and acted like I didn't want it. He was popular, and so I was so afraid that somebody would think I liked him, what I wanted was nobody to know the truth, not even him. That's how some gays are, so afraid to fall in love that you end up pushing it away. Even though you know it, you can't help it, just that fear is such a dominant emotion. Ah, these things couldn't last I thought, and they didn't. At one point I decided to be realistic as well, I tried to get over him. I cried while wishing that my love was true and somehow he wasn't just being trying to be a friend, but more. And most of all, I avoided him to get over my feelings. I never gave the chance to find out if there was any possibility, but at the time I truly just wanted to get over him. And then at some point it stopped, the few conversations we had, the teasings, they trickled to nothing.

So for awhile I thought it was over, but it was fine, better than anyone finding out such a disgusting part of me I thought. Summer break was coming, but so was his birthday. I baked a cake for a friend of mine in the same class a week or two before his birthday, and surprisingly, he asked me to bake him one as well. I jokingly asked if he was serious and tried to find out if his request was sincere, not another playful joke. Well he had the power to convince me all along, and to my own surprise I woke up a little earlier on his birthday and baked that cake. By the time I got to school, I was extremely nervous, when should I give it to him? will anyone see this? how will he react if he was really just joking? and the full realization of what I've been avoiding might happen, people might start thinking that I liked him with this unsubtle gesture. His first class was across from mine so right before it started I found him and gave him the cake. A good girlfriend of mine in his class came to talk to me after class joking around "Oh my gosh Kris, is this your confession" as we laughed. I played it off with the excuse he insisted several times for me to bake that cake. Deep down though, I couldn't stop worrying and dreaded seeing him at our last class of the day. The rest happened so fast, first he returned me an empty pan, my thought, "oh he shared all the cake", and telling me it was very good. I sat back down at my seat and he walked up with a cookie and handed it to me as a "thank you". That was the moment that made the whole day's teasings, worries, and my freaking nerves all worth it. I remembered wanting to cry. For what reason, I still don't know.

Sadly, after that I still never got the courage to talk to him on my own, too nervous thinking talking to him and baking him a cake would commit me to the crime of liking him. Summer break came and we were all outside as a class, by then we had our yearbooks as well, I kept going over in my mind to ask him to sign it, over and over, until it was too late to ask him, and we went back in. Anyhow we didn't have a class together again for the rest of high school and the times we did speak after was short and unmemorable. Perhaps the fault all lies on me making the situation so cold that not even friendship could blossom between us. In short, I got what I wanted, to get over him without even a try, so I thought that would be the end of us. Fast forwarding, freshmen year of college, he worked at Abercrombie on breaks and one day at the mall I saw him as he got off work and passed me, called my name, acknowledging me. All the regret I was suppose to feel three years ago...actually didn't come around this time either. For some reason it's the random times such as 4:27 am this morning I remember this story and feel annoyed, upset, and that other mix of emotions. It's too late to think whether he liked me or not, it's the chance I lost that matters. Am I suppose to learn from this and find my true love? but I realize that I am no different from my three and a half years past self where I wouldn't risk being found out for that slim possibility of love. It is 4:33 a.m. now, time for change? Well, my bed is still lonely. Thanks for reading.

Sincerely, myself

Goodnight!
P.S. Oh, feel free to comment on my writing style! I want to get better.