Three Wishes

Puppy Love: Wish One Part Two

So like I was saying in the last update, I was walking on air feeling all these emotions that I've never felt before. I remember were working a memorial day project and he was talking to me. The sun was shining brightly from behind me and it hit his face illuminating him. I totally got distracted and didn't hear a word that he said. He was really that attractive to me.

I remember at the end of the conversation he blinked because of the sun but I, shit you not, he only blinked one eye and for the rest of the day I dissected the site in my head. My head was telling me that he was probably just blinking but my heart was telling me that it was a sign!

These kinds of instances rolled all throughout the summer. It was complete angsty-teen-torture™. The more people told me that it was just "puppy love" the madder I'd get. I wanted to prove them wrong and that continued to push me further down the hole I was digging up for myself.

I'd like to also note that I'm the kind of person that fixates and overthinks everything. So I already began to build up this secret romance between the two of us. Once I professed my feelings we'd have to passionately hide our love from his family and from our scouting troop. At this point in time (2010), homosexual scouts can still be kicked out. We'd ideally sneak away from everyone after the meetings and find different places to sneak kisses and hand-holding. It was going to be an epic summer romance before high school began.

It was everything like the books I read just like I wanted. To know that I was loved. To feel beautiful in the crappy transition of puberty. To hold someone's hand and just know that there's more to that touch. There's a weighted emotion attached to the simple touch. At the time, I knew of sex but it wasn't that big of a deal with me because I desperately craved the emotional aspects of being in a relationship.

I wanted someone to fix the problems that I found in myself. I thought if someone loved me then I could learn how to love another in return. I thought if someone told me I was beautiful then it would make me beautiful. As if someone else's opinions of my body could cure me of my insecurities. I thought if someone needed me then I could have a purpose in this vast wasteland of a work. I'm only one in a billion, just knowing that the man looking my way only sees me...it's definitely a powerful thought.

So that's what I did, I projected everything on this guy when ultimately he was just living his life stumbling through his adolescence.

Like I said in a previous update; I'm spiritual, not religious. I personally believe that my dreams can guide me. My dreams tend to reflect on my life and are hyper-realistic. I can feel the tree bark if I'm walking in a forest. I can hear the waves crashing on the shore of a beach. I may not be able to smell well but to be honest, my sense of smell, in reality, is weak as is. So as I was running around love drunk my subconscious was cracking the books in search of the truth in it all.

So on a random Monday night, I had a dream about Greg. He and I were talking by a lake talking about philosophy. As I listened to him I remember that he turned to me and told me something I wasn't expecting: "Ryan, you're just a follower." Now I took pride in feeling like I was unique and original; I mean, almost every movie I've watched has told me that!

But it didn't stop there. He kept going, psychoanalyzing the decisions that I've made. Savagely tearing down my walls brick by brick he told me the insecurities that I had. He told me what I'd only fear a person saying aloud: the thoughts that plagued my mind that I never told people in fear that they'd use it against me.

As usual for the time, I couldn't speak for myself. I couldn't deny him because I knew to deny him would mean lying to myself. I woke up feeling wrecked. You're supposed to wake up from sleep feeling refreshed and I just felt like a browning banana that was stepped on.

Tensions began to rise as the summer progressed. Little things that Greg would do just made me mad but I still liked him. Everything peaked at summer camp when I was already depressed because I hadn't passed a Scoutmaster Conference. For the rank, I was working on I had to pass three of them and on the final one I was rejected. Being the goal-oriented person that I was it crushed me. Within ten minutes everyone knew and I felt completely embarrassed. I thought my responses were the right ones. I thought the justifications were foolproof.

Even now I have this issue with accepting defeat when I know I did everything right but sometimes you can do everything right and still fail. Till this day I'll say it was because that specific scoutmaster didn't like me and it wouldn't be a lie. He didn't like me and we'd continue to have friction for the rest of my duration in scouting.

So when I spoke to Greg later that day he didn't comfort me. The one person I wanted to tell me those fluff phrases like: "I believe in you", "the scoutmaster was being a total jerk about it", or even a simple "You'll get it next time." He didn't say any of them. I can be really harsh with myself and I don't sugarcoat things for myself. I really needed someone to sugarcoat the situation for me. I desperately needed it.

I remember what he did though. We were at the closing ceremony when the people on stage were trying to get everyone pumped. Requesting everyone to raise their hands I encouraged the younger scouts to raise their hands as well to build morale before our eight-hour ride back home. With enough encouragement, they began to raise their hands along with the people on stage.

"You're such a zombie to society," Greg said to me as I sat down. Looking back now, he probably meant it as a joke, a really poor one, but still a joke. The second I heard him say that it was as if someone punched a hole in my rose-tinted goggles.

He's not the one for me. He never was and everything, all of this build up was fabricated by myself. It was at that very moment I felt so alone. This chemistry, this longing, was just one-sided and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I don't remember what I said but I remember feeling terrible. The worst part was that immediately after we went to our busses and began to make our way home. So I had the pleasure of being stuck with him for that whole duration of time.

So many thoughts raced through my head. Would I ever like someone who'd reciprocate feelings for me? Why would someone want me? If the world was ending I would never be the person that Greg chose to be with. Every girl on this planet was ahead of me on a line that I could never join. Would I ever like someone who was actually queer or was I cursed to a life of only liking straight guys?

^Multiply these thoughts by eight hours^ The bus ride home was exhausting emotionally. I couldn't concentrate on anything for the following days. I didn't want to tell my family that they were right. I didn't have any friends who knew I was gay and could confide to really. Greg would never know that I cared for him. He'd never know that I wanted to hold his hand or kiss his lips. He'd never know any of it. So there I was listening to "Round and Round" on repeat feeling toyed with as he blissfully strolled to his parent's car with his brother unaware of what he, no I, had done to myself.

And that, my dearest readers, was the first of three wishes that I made in my youth.