I am a man of constant sorrow and full of irrational anger.
I'm also a drunk. I'm sure Odysseus was a drinking man, I just can't remember.
This is stupid, but last saturday I told the first of my male friends (ever, not counting you guys) that I was gay. It was big. He told me that he was completely fine with it, and that "everyone is different." He seemed so fine with it that it was unreal; he'd even gone so far as to say that it was cool that he had a gay friend.
We hung out every day after (and hell, even before I told him we were hanging out every day), until Tuesday.
Tuesday at 12 is when the school starts taking reservations to go wakeboarding on Lake Wauberg. It's free to UF students, and the times for the week usually fill up in the first 20 minutes.
I'd been telling Moe (the friend I'd told) for almost a week now that I couldn't wait until he goes to Wauberg, and would he please call me. Every time he told me no problem, of course he'd tell me.
So on Tuesday, I call his phone around 3pm to see what his day/time ended up being, and our other friend Zach picks up the phone.
"Hey man, we're at Wauberg, what's up?
"What the fuck? Put moises on the phone."
"Hey, I'm sorry man, I got this time so last minute, I couldn't call you! It's not like I don't call you to do things."
What an awful excuse, a phone call takes 20 seconds. Ah, the magic of technology.
So I told him whatever, call me later.
Cut to oh, 29 hours or so later and he finally calls me to ask me if I'm going out. No, I tell him. I'm not in the mood.
So he tells me I should at least head by the fraternity house to drink some. Why not, I agree because I'd been waiting for him to call me so that I could figure out what the hell his problem was.
I get to the house, he's not there yet, whatever. About 30 minutes later he walks in, raises his drink to me and we cheers. He also doesn't say a single word to me for the rest of the night.
Cut to me driving home, a little angry and bit tipsy, and this cold black wave of horror passes over me. Is that really why he's acting weird? And it hits me, if I can't tell Moe, how the fuck could I ever tell anybody ever again? This is a kid who I love more than my biological brothers most of the time. If he can't fully accept me, who the fuck ever could?
Do you know when the last time I cried was? Try about 4 or 5 years ago when my grandfather died. But tonight I burst into tears somewhere around 2nd Ave and 34th Street.
I eventually dried my eyes by talking to some of my good friends from highschool over the phone, who assured me of various things, not the least of which being that everything would be alright, and to just give him some time. There's a whole new story hidden in that sentence, but it's not pertinent to the story at hand, so I won't go into it--let's just say that I matured a bit tonight.
In any case, I ended up text messaging Moe that we seriously needed to have a talk tomorrow, and after a quick "about what, man?" from him, I told him, about why you've been making me feel like a dick. His text message back: "Are you kidding me? I love you man, chill."
This, of course, precipitates a phone call from him. I mean, you can't blame him for needing clarification.
Over the course of the conversation, he assures me that his trip to the lake really was last minute, and that he was "really fucked up all day," and that's why he didn't talk to me much. Of course, that didn't stop him from talking to other people; weird how that works. In between he managed to pepper in as many "I love you"s as I've heard in my entire life, and acknowledged that he understood why I was a little paranoid, and that he probably would be too, but assured me that it was unfounded. He also mentioned (thank you, Alcohol) that he was really shocked when I told him, which was something that his zealousness to be nice the other day had obscured from my perception.
I'm not sure what to think anymore, but for the time being my emotions have stabilized enough for me to get some sleep. I don't mean to bug you all with the petty trivialities of my life, but Ober was itching for new threads--Drama is as drama does, right?
I guess I'll have to talk to him tomorrow. I would love to believe everything he said, but my intuitions tell me that there's something more to it. I'm sure he'll come around sooner or later, but for now I just need to tell him that I was incredibly hurt for the last two days. To be so hurt by the first guy I've ever opened up entirely to is just incomprehensible. It's like having all of the bones in your body broken at the same time. Maybe I shouldn't have felt the way I did, but that's why I posted this--am I just being oversensitive?