It’s been about a year. Since I came out. I feel like it’s been about 10 years. The first couple times I told people I couldn’t say the word. It was like, “I feel like maybe I’m…you know.” They knew. But I wasn’t strong enough to say the words.
A year later I can say the words. I haven’t said them to everyone. I know they won’t care. I know. But there’s no turning back from that. There’s no turning back from “I’m different.” I have never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable. I’ve always just wanted to go unnoticed. And now I’m afraid of being so noticed that I make everyone uncomfortable. No. Listen. No, I swear I’m not thinking of you that way. Don’t be creeped out. I’m normal.
I’m of the age where everyone, and I mean everyone, is now in either a long term committed relationship or married. And the babies. Goddamn the babies. Procreation everywhere. And I’m 13, afraid of everything, afraid of my body, afraid of everyone else, confused about what I should do. I should have known sooner. I did know sooner. I should have let myself know sooner.
I’m drunk now. I went to several holiday parties and watched as my attractive friends had a good time. And it just made me sad. Sad that they were attractive and young and had bright futures that could easily be betted on now. He’ll propose in 9 months. She’ll be knocked up in 2 years. But where will I be? Shouldn’t it be exciting that I don’t know? No. I’m 30, I should know. Where is my happy ending? Where is my super cute boyfriend that will make everything normal?
I’m never going to have that. I’m never going to have that. Nothing will be normal for me. Which is poetic I guess. I’ve never liked normal. I’ve never liked status quo. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. But sometimes I see everyone else’s drum and I’m jealous. Why can’t my drum be like everyone else’s? Why do I have to be alone?
I don’t know. I hold onto the hope that someday I’ll meet someone and be all, “Oh, yeah. This is why I had to wait.” But they’re (she’s) taking her damn time.