An Update Proper
When I was 14, I thought I'd finally found myself. To my credit, I figured out the important things--the things that haven't changed. My beliefs about religion have not wavered (despite serious questioning), my sexual orientation appears to be static, and I'm still obsessed with Final Fantasy. I'd assumed I would have nothing more to learn or figure out as I got older. Of course, a lot of teenagers think they already know everything, so that's not something new.
I'm pleasantly surprised to say that I've learned me about myself in the last year than I thought I ever would after adolescence. To those of you who've known me and put up with me for as long as you have, I'm a more honest person. I removed the need for some sort of validation through false experience. Everything I know and feel now is genuine. The experiences I describe to you are, for better or worse, real. I've fallen in love, but my transformation or transfiguration or trans-whatever-the-fuck started slightly before.
Me, circa September 2007:
I'd been working as a cook at a Christian college for a year and was beginning to despise the place when I came back from summer vacation. I had no friends locally at the time. A temp worker that we eventually hired became my first friend in Denver and remains a good friend. I pushed for him to get hired because he was a great worker, but he was also rather attractive. I'd assumed, wrongly (but correctly, in a sort of precocious, first impression sense) that we had little in common. Serving the students one day, he made a quip about one of them being gay, I retorted, and the exchange caused us to come out to each other. We hung out outside of work fairly often. He was "married," meaning he's partnered but the commitment is not legalized. I felt awkward around him because I was attracted to him and was, at the time, unsure of how to read signals from people.
Long story short, he took my virginity, I fell in and out of love with him, experienced jealousy, hate, and the gamut of emotions between euphoria and hell. Thankfully, for both of us, our friendship, and his relationship, our affair ended a while back. The precocious part of my first impression? Now that we're done flailing our appendages, I've come to realize how little we really do have in common. I go through the motions of friendship while he truly feels it, I think. My friendship with him is the first and last one that I'm burning before yet another Cody Moves Adventure. I've already begun cutting myself off from him. It hurts, a little, because he's the hinge my social life in Denver hangs on, but the time alone is fantastic.
The reasons I thought I loved him are few, but important. He was the first one to really see the state I was in socially and emotionally at that point. He saw right through the fronts I put up and sort of forced me to become the butterfly I wanted to be. Our first few "dates" involved shopping. This may be a typically gay thing, but for me at the time it served as the first step in my confidence rebuilding effort. From there, he introduced me to a wider circle of people and brought me out of my comfort zone. He gave me something to look forward to. I'm a much happier and more sociable person as a result. I'm also a budding alcoholic, but I'm too cheap to drink on my own.
When my feelings for him were shrouded mostly in jealousy and contempt (I had, at one point, considered telling his "husband" that we'd slept together), I began actively seeking other potential partners. There are none of any significance except Jeremy, the only person I'll give a name to in this post. To keep it short, he plays the piano better than I do, sent me the right signals, and had me flustered every time I saw him. After coming up with a bullshit excuse to spend time with him, I finally grew a pair and asked him about his orientation, to which he said he was straight, but our last interaction makes me doubt it still. Having told him I'm moving to California and I wouldn't see him again and goodbye, he started the motions of a hug but then stopped himself and instead gave a handshake. I'd go in to more details and give evidence for my case against his heterosexuality, but it's not worth it.
Jumping ahead to...well...now, I guess. I'm moving to California in either June or early July. I'm going to pursue my career as a chef and hopefully make something of myself. I've finally learned how to put up with the bullshit and see through it. At the risk of sounding cocky, my cooking is fantastic and it's the only thing I can see myself doing for years to come and loving the entire time.
Most importantly, though, I'm moving because I've met (no, that's the wrong word, but I don't know how else to put it) the "right" person. We've sort of gone back and forth on this once before, lost touch, reconnected, lost touch, and reconnected again. Remember what I said earlier about not needing the validation? I don't need it, but the way he treats me makes me feel validated regardless. This is the first time in my life I've ever felt this particular way about anyone. Of course, I questioned my feelings because I question everything, but there was no way I could rationalize them away or make them stop or tell myself "no." And again, he gave me what I wanted automatically.
It was cute dancing around the issue for a while. It's even cuter not having to dance around it and instead fully acknowledging everything. I must sound like an idiot right now to those of you that have actually experienced what I'm going through for the first time, so I'm sorry if I do.
The plan, when I move, is to stay with him. I've already decided that I'm moving there permanently regardless of our relationship, so the relationship is sort of a bonus (but really, if it ended now, I don't know that I'd still move, but if it ends while I'm there, I'm not moving back). I don't, however, see the relationship ending. Maybe I just jinxed it, but really, I don't see that happening.
It's exactly like they say. It's always right under your nose and then one day it just kind of...hits you. What a day that was. I don't know that I've smiled so much so frequently at any other time in my life. He makes me feel like a better person just by saying "hi" to me in the mornings or saying goodnight or just being online or calling between classes or doing any of the numerous things he does that I can't get enough of. I'm going to stop myself there. Cheeks hurt. Smiling imminent.
I love you, Happiness. July can't come soon enough.
Goodnight. <3
I'm pleasantly surprised to say that I've learned me about myself in the last year than I thought I ever would after adolescence. To those of you who've known me and put up with me for as long as you have, I'm a more honest person. I removed the need for some sort of validation through false experience. Everything I know and feel now is genuine. The experiences I describe to you are, for better or worse, real. I've fallen in love, but my transformation or transfiguration or trans-whatever-the-fuck started slightly before.
Me, circa September 2007:
I'd been working as a cook at a Christian college for a year and was beginning to despise the place when I came back from summer vacation. I had no friends locally at the time. A temp worker that we eventually hired became my first friend in Denver and remains a good friend. I pushed for him to get hired because he was a great worker, but he was also rather attractive. I'd assumed, wrongly (but correctly, in a sort of precocious, first impression sense) that we had little in common. Serving the students one day, he made a quip about one of them being gay, I retorted, and the exchange caused us to come out to each other. We hung out outside of work fairly often. He was "married," meaning he's partnered but the commitment is not legalized. I felt awkward around him because I was attracted to him and was, at the time, unsure of how to read signals from people.
Long story short, he took my virginity, I fell in and out of love with him, experienced jealousy, hate, and the gamut of emotions between euphoria and hell. Thankfully, for both of us, our friendship, and his relationship, our affair ended a while back. The precocious part of my first impression? Now that we're done flailing our appendages, I've come to realize how little we really do have in common. I go through the motions of friendship while he truly feels it, I think. My friendship with him is the first and last one that I'm burning before yet another Cody Moves Adventure. I've already begun cutting myself off from him. It hurts, a little, because he's the hinge my social life in Denver hangs on, but the time alone is fantastic.
The reasons I thought I loved him are few, but important. He was the first one to really see the state I was in socially and emotionally at that point. He saw right through the fronts I put up and sort of forced me to become the butterfly I wanted to be. Our first few "dates" involved shopping. This may be a typically gay thing, but for me at the time it served as the first step in my confidence rebuilding effort. From there, he introduced me to a wider circle of people and brought me out of my comfort zone. He gave me something to look forward to. I'm a much happier and more sociable person as a result. I'm also a budding alcoholic, but I'm too cheap to drink on my own.
When my feelings for him were shrouded mostly in jealousy and contempt (I had, at one point, considered telling his "husband" that we'd slept together), I began actively seeking other potential partners. There are none of any significance except Jeremy, the only person I'll give a name to in this post. To keep it short, he plays the piano better than I do, sent me the right signals, and had me flustered every time I saw him. After coming up with a bullshit excuse to spend time with him, I finally grew a pair and asked him about his orientation, to which he said he was straight, but our last interaction makes me doubt it still. Having told him I'm moving to California and I wouldn't see him again and goodbye, he started the motions of a hug but then stopped himself and instead gave a handshake. I'd go in to more details and give evidence for my case against his heterosexuality, but it's not worth it.
Jumping ahead to...well...now, I guess. I'm moving to California in either June or early July. I'm going to pursue my career as a chef and hopefully make something of myself. I've finally learned how to put up with the bullshit and see through it. At the risk of sounding cocky, my cooking is fantastic and it's the only thing I can see myself doing for years to come and loving the entire time.
Most importantly, though, I'm moving because I've met (no, that's the wrong word, but I don't know how else to put it) the "right" person. We've sort of gone back and forth on this once before, lost touch, reconnected, lost touch, and reconnected again. Remember what I said earlier about not needing the validation? I don't need it, but the way he treats me makes me feel validated regardless. This is the first time in my life I've ever felt this particular way about anyone. Of course, I questioned my feelings because I question everything, but there was no way I could rationalize them away or make them stop or tell myself "no." And again, he gave me what I wanted automatically.
It was cute dancing around the issue for a while. It's even cuter not having to dance around it and instead fully acknowledging everything. I must sound like an idiot right now to those of you that have actually experienced what I'm going through for the first time, so I'm sorry if I do.
The plan, when I move, is to stay with him. I've already decided that I'm moving there permanently regardless of our relationship, so the relationship is sort of a bonus (but really, if it ended now, I don't know that I'd still move, but if it ends while I'm there, I'm not moving back). I don't, however, see the relationship ending. Maybe I just jinxed it, but really, I don't see that happening.
It's exactly like they say. It's always right under your nose and then one day it just kind of...hits you. What a day that was. I don't know that I've smiled so much so frequently at any other time in my life. He makes me feel like a better person just by saying "hi" to me in the mornings or saying goodnight or just being online or calling between classes or doing any of the numerous things he does that I can't get enough of. I'm going to stop myself there. Cheeks hurt. Smiling imminent.
I love you, Happiness. July can't come soon enough.
Goodnight. <3