I thought he was perfect. Perfect for me at least. But I guess that was my first mistake, especially since he was heterosexual.
I’m not sure exactly why I fell in love with him in the first place, because before we met I had lost hope in finding a decent guy anyway. I thought that the type of man I wanted was part of an extinct species only accessible through cheesy romantic movies.
But this was proven wrong two years ago by his flawless smile, intelligence, thoughtfulness, compassion and humor. I didn’t even know how to define love, but before long I had fallen into it with someone who couldn’t return it.
That’s when the pain came. He was my roommate on campus so there was no getting away from him. He was way too kind, much too smart and too insanely sexy for me to just forget about my feelings for him. With each passing day they would grow stronger. With each passing day I’d feel more and more helpless.
I didn’t know what to do. Usually if I ever had a crush on a straight man I’d simply distance myself from him and everything would be fine after a while. But I couldn’t do that in this situation. He was living with me and I knew I’d have to deal with it until the academic year was over.
I began to despise him. How can he not see that we’re perfect together? Why is he bringing these ditsy girls back to the room? I was in so much heartache but I made sure he could never tell. I’d wait until he left the room to cry into my pillow. I was wishing every day that I’d wake up and my feelings for him would disappear. It reminded me of my middle school days when I tried wishing the gay away.
I began to despise myself. How could I be so stupid to fall in love with a straight person? How could I be so stupid to expect him to magically wake up one day and want me back? I beat up on myself for being so childish and so locked under the influence of the invisible. I wished I could turn off my emotions for the year because they weren’t really getting me anywhere. To this day I still find it so disturbing that one moment emotions can be as restrictive chains and in the next, they may be as liberating as wings.
With all of this running through my mind, I still wanted to tell him that I had feelings for him. Maybe that would make me feel better? Maybe he could use this information to gauge how he interacts with me? (Maybe he would tell me that he has feelings for me too?) I wanted to tell him so badly but I never did…
…until after we moved out. I was hoping for some magical fairy tale ending but that’s not how life is I suppose. He was always cool with the fact that I was gay so when I told him how I felt about him it was no big deal (much to my dismay). He just sort of laughed it off with something that essentially meant “that’s so nice.”
Over time we drifted apart since we were no longer living together (probably for the better of my emotional health) and that was that. Even though that experience was very painful I’m happy I was able to learn from it.
I learned what it means to truly romantically love someone. I now understand why people do idiotic and irrational things while enamored. I am aware of how it feels to wait with baited breath for a text message. I now truly can relate to those annoying heart break songs on the radio. I get why people are so depressed after a break up.
I just hope that the next time this happens, the person will actually be interested in sausage and not fillet fish…if you know what I mean.