Yesterday was my birthday. 25. Quarter century. It has been a less than ideal year, and an interesting final week.
So, 24 started out alright. I had a successful recital, graduated with my master’s degree, went to a summer music festival where I renewed my friendship with Jess and learned a little about my isolationist tendencies and how to fight them.
Then, however, I spent the rest of the summer unemployed, racking up debt, got sick while uninsured resulting in completely losing my voice, got a crappy job as a waiter, quit that job, and generally was a lazy slob. Oh, and I was rejected from the mentoring agency.
I’m now pulling out of that. I’m feeling a renewed interest in my music career. I’ve been avoiding all the illnesses that are floating around (though I did go to the hospital with an anxiety attack). I’m finally turning my house back around – albeit slowly – and making it a pleasant place to live. I quit the old job and got a new, better one.
And then last week I came out to My Friend on the Facebook. That last one is the real reason I’m writing today. I told MFotF and the King that even though they assure me that all is well, I would still worry. And I did. Do. I took the King’s advice and kept my distance for most of the week. It occurred to me that that may actually have not been the wisest course of action. While it gives MFotF the chance to digest what I told her, let it sink in, it also gives her doubts a chance to grow. I’m not present, reminding her of my humanity and our friendship, so the parts of her mind that tell her that people like me are monstrous can speak to her unchallenged.
On the other hand, most of that battle has already been fought since this is an idea that has been present for a while. I’m starting to think the advice I’d gotten from that website years ago was 100% wrong. It said to never let those you love find out for themselves that you’re gay, but tell them yourself first. twice now, the opposite has proven to be quite smooth. It’s slower, more gradual. The other person can work out the fact that you’re still a human being, still the same person as before, without having to actually confront the truth. When people see things coming they tend to be better prepared when they arrive.
Anyway, I left her alone. She texted me that night, left me a voice mail the next and that was it for a few days. At first I was patient, but on Tuesday I was getting anxious. I held off calling until Thursday.
When I did call, under the pretense of checking what the plans were for today (Saturday), she was normal enough but didn’t seem interested in talking long. But she was talking to me, and that was good. She called the next day to wish me Happy Birthday and was much more friendly, explaining that she was a little short with me the day before because I called during one of her favorite shows. I understand that feeling. I said as much too, saying I should really not answer the phone when I’m in that situation, since it’s not pleasant for anyone involved.
“I considered it, but I figured what you were calling about and was going to call you at some point anyway.”
I can see that being true. I can also see her answering because she didn’t want me thinking she was avoiding my calls. Either way, I was mollified.
We’ve spoken a few more times. I’ve come to the following conclusions:
- Any awkwardness I perceive may or may not exist. Either way, it will pass. It is not a sign of anything bad.
- Even if she’s less comfortable than she claims, the only thing I can do to help is be around her and be myself.
- Most of it is in my head.
She’s coming down today to help celebrate my birthday with The King and BBM.
Well, it was fun. Not the most fun I’ve ever had with MFotF and The King, but fun none the less. Here’s the thing though. Now that I’ve told her, I want to talk about it with her. But… I can’t be the one to bring it up, can I? Surely she is curious. The King was, in any case.
I suppose I’m just waiting for the transformation. Really, there shouldn’t be one. That’s kind of the point of a smooth coming out. Nothing really changes. It’s just a bit anti-climactic. I spend all that energy worrying and building up courage to tell someone I’m a boylover and then after it’s over, it’s like it never happened. I guess I’m just not sure what I feel about it. That’s not completely true. I’m glad I told her. Tonight was a good indication that we can still be perfectly normal. I just…want more.
GAH! Shut up, Louie!
But just one more thing. It’s possible that she is curious but doesn’t want to bring it up herself.
OK, two more things. I still kinda feel like I’m walking on glass around her. Not for the same reasons, obviously, but for instance, tonight I played a clip of the B minor Mass with boys singing the soprano and alto parts. I felt embarrassed. Duh! I’m a boylover. She already knows I like boy sopranos a little more than is normal, but for some reason I was still reluctant to play the song in front of her. Maybe it’s just an old habit.
I should probably talk to The King. Get his opinion.