I went to the birthday party of a friend of a friend today; the birthday boy is my age while my friend is about 20 years older. The party was at the birthday boy’s home, which is in a part of the city one would delicately say is being “revitalized.” He’s renovating the house, and it wasn’t until I saw the “before” photos that I was able to appreciate the current status of the place.

Anyway, there were about 10 people there when friend and I arrived; I knew no one. One guy caught my eye immediately … he was tall and thin with a shaved head. His eyes captivated me … they were a deep brown. He kind of resembled Peter Gabriel, whom I have adored for, hell, going on 20 years now, but a much younger version of the older Peter, if that makes sense.

I was chit-chatting, but out of the corner of my eye, I kept seeing this guy. Because the birthday boy is gay and because there was another man seated next to this guy (albeit in a separate chair), I assumed this guy was gay, too. But I noticed that he was looking at me as much as I was looking at him.

Sidetrack to explore my psyche: Dating back to junior high, I have always assumed that if a man acts like he is interested in me, it is because he is just being nice — or worse, feels sorry for me. I know that I am attractive, funny, intelligent, blah blah blah, but I have never been able to get over the teasing I endured while I was younger. I’ve forgotten his name, his face, any identifying characteristic, except that one asshole a year older than me “asked” me to dance at the Halloween Dance when I was in 8th grade … except he was laughing and all of his friends were laughing. Thanks, jackass, for the imprint you made on me. Back to the present …

My friend decided she was ready to leave but I had to use the restroom first. I was waiting in the hallway outside of the bathroom, as it was occupied; I felt like a total loser because there was a group of people like 10 feet away in the kitchen and there I stood, by myself. So I’m standing there, when cute guy came into the kitchen, looked over at me, then walked over to where I stood. He introduced himself, saying he was visiting for the week from another state; he asked my name, then asked how I knew the birthday boy. He thought it was really funny when I said that I didn’t. We talked for a few minutes until the bathroom was free; so then I had my crisis of confidence, thinking, was he just talking to me because I looked so damn pathetic???

When I went back into the main room, he was standing on the edge of the group with his beer and I was torn — basically, if he lived in the city I would have gone over and stood by him to talk, the fact that my friend wanted to leave be damned. But my friend stood up to leave and as we were gathering our stuff, cute guy came over. We brought our own chairs to sit on, and I was flustered, not able to fold mine or pick it up. He started to get mine and my friend — bless her heart, she had no idea — said, “No, we’ve got it!” Aaagh.

In one of my first posts, I alluded to an “affair” I had with a sexually confused guy; until I met him I looked at sexuality as an “either or” thing. Either you were gay or you were straight. “Bi” meant you were gay but in denial. Post-John, however, I see things a little differently. I also tend to assume “gay” more than I probably should, if only to keep myself from getting hurt. Take this guy tonight … if I tag him as “gay,” then it means he was just being nice to me. If he is “straight,” however, then he found me attractive and oh my God, that just opens up another can of scary worms as far as I’m concerned — because I am terrified that a man will think that I am dull and boring once he gets to know the real “me” and leave me for someone infinitely more fascinating. That I can reveal the core of myself and it still may not be enough scares me beyond belief.

∗ Posted by Monique on 07.16.2005
∗ Uncategorized