Coming (out) Roses

The weekend was amazing. That's what I've decided. I could barely focus at work today because I kept thinking over conversations, people, faces, dancing, music, sunlight, driving....everyone at work thought I was on crack because I was so happy, really giddy with happiness. On a Monday no less. You know that feeling when you think everything really is coming up roses?

Lina was coming up to visit this weekend, and I finally determined to see her and the rest of the Paris gang: Danielle, Chris, Natalie, etc. We ended up going to some friends' house in Brooklyn, and drinking and talking the night away on their gorgeous rooftop. There was a beautiful nightscape of the city, I had drinks and engaging conversation: it was perfect, a wonderful evening. Natalie decided to introduce a bizarre element by kissing me (and some others) on the lips. But everything felt fluid, comprehensible, I was reaching some kind of insight into my current existence. I was also thinking rather intensely over an earlier occurrence during the day...

Clara (and Heath and Blaine) gave me a ride into the city that afternoon. I'm beginning to like all three of them more and more, although I almost died of shock when I discovered that Blaine is straight. Here's my defense. Blaine:

1. Is very very good-looking
2. Dresses well
3. Dances amazingly
4. Held me around the waist for a substantial portion of Friday night and, well, we generally petted one another.
5. Carried on a conversation at the club wherein we were practically making out (proximity was needed, the music was loud => I thought he was gay and harmless).
6. Was first introduced to me along with Heath, who is uber-gay. I mean, I thought they were going out until Heath told me he doesn't have a boyfriend.
7. Refreshed my drink (correctly) without asking and spoke to me like a real person
8. Seemed interested in getting to know me 
9. Didn't bring up sports (really, most guys seem to talk inordinately about sports)

****I realize a huge chunk of these won't make any sense to you. But I'm not kidding, these were real signs, and I don't have wretched gaydar. Even Clara later said, "yeah, it is initially confusing. I think he's a metro."****

The whole car ride into the city, I had been merrily carrying on the most absurd dialogue with him in the backseat, telling him how I think the word "ass" should be inserted at unexpected moments in conversation (who says that?!), how I'm innately clumsy, blah blah. Basically making a fool of myself as I would only with someone I felt I could confide stupid things in. And then! Pow! Heath was telling me about how they were planning on going to all these outrageous gay bars in the city, and Blaine piped up saying "don't forget, guys, one of us isn't gay." My stomach lurched in horror. What had I been saying to this fantastic, sweet, charming, sexy, NOT-GAY man? I felt like I had been stabbed somewhere around my navel, and it sucked, because from that moment on, I felt self-conscious about my body and everything I said. I couldn't even look at him without suddenly evaluating the motion.

It still surprises me that in one stomach-jerking moment, I went from thinking of him as a really nice friend who would hopefully come back to visit, to someone I had to be wary around, someone with whom sexual energy (and there was some kind of sexual dynamic, but it seemed totally acceptable at the time) isn't necessarily safe or innocently meant. And then I felt like an idiot because in that one flash I realized why I get along so much better with women and gay men: because my reserves go up with straight men unless I'm absolutely not attracted to them. I never bumble, I never really talk to them without working my conversation into witty and polished little pockets of speech. It's weird to learn these things about yourself.

Anyway, the second miserable bomb was that he and Clara used to go out years ago. Apparently they were together for 2 months but he was stupid and went back to some crazy girl he previously dated. Now, I know Clara. She's totally invested in sexual energy and experimentation, in serious, mentally challenging relationships. Plus Clara's my friend, a confidante, a shoulder to lean on at work and outside work. Even if I were to think about Blaine in any kind of dating context, this would be a huge barrier.

This is already was too involved and embarrassing a post. Still, here’s the point. I thought about all of this throughout the weekend. I convinced myself that it was all pretty meaningless stuff, that he was a good-looking, nice guy I wouldn’t be seeing much of. But today at work both Heath and Clara told me that he was really into me, that he has a crush on me. How bizarre! A guy I thought was gay and was therefore perfectly nice to, is attracted to me. For fear of launching into an embarrassing burst of utter glee, I’m going to stop soon.

I know nothing is going to happen, and I’ll probably have a dull next weekend to make up for it. But still, I realize now that it has taken a lot of serendipity and mischance to even get to this point, that none of this would have happened if I had gone back to living in New York and to a pre-established circle of friends. I’ve met my housemates, my work colleagues, guys my own age (well, Blaine is 26) who expect me to talk to them instead of shrinking into a protective crowd of women. I feel like I’m going to fuck up constantly, and just for today, it felt amazing to be me, to fuck-up as only I can. 

I don’t know. Maybe it’s possible that all those changes you imagine you’ll go through in college can sometimes only happen after you graduate, when you’re really on your own, cultivating and curiously probing a new life.