See…I was the guy who always came off as the friend type. The “he’s cute and sweet but I don’t wanna fall in love with him” type. Do you know how freakin frustrating that is? Ugh…you can’t even imagine. To wear your heart on your sleeve is to get it snatched away and stumped on. Do I seem cynical? What the hell do you think years of being the “good but not good enough” guy will do to you? Don’t judge me for my pessimism and my lack of faith in human intention. But trust me…I’m not bitter. I’ve got great friends, a loving family, many events to occupy my social life. However, what I don’t have is the warm gushy feeling that annoys the hell out of everyone until they never ever can feel that feeling again. I don’t have that and I want it so bad…so bad that I’d trade almost all of it for that one person to tell me they love me and mean it. I want to be more than good enough…hell, I want to be exceptionally wanted.
This aint a sob story though. What kind of a story is it then, huh? It’s a story about me: MyAn Sample. Weird name isn’t it? Haha. I had to deal with stupid nicknames such as “MyAn Simple” or “Simple Sample”. Cruel ass kids. Its funny how those little names used to embarrass and hurt me so much but now, when I reflect on them, I wonder what the hell was wrong with me that made me so damn sensitive. Childhood…who needs it?
Anyway, I don’t want to continue to bore you with the “Biography of MyAn”. Basically, the gist of this story is this: I was living my life, enjoying my friends, the occasional bar adventure, the once-in-a-while party and what not when this guy [yes a freakin GUY] swept me off my feet. Now, I was never one to bash gay people but I was NOT a fag—I mean a homo—either. I was the guy who went after the girl and got pushed aside because I wasn’t a hard ass. I wasn’t a man clinging to the darkness of some metaphorical closet. I simply was…
Somehow, I guess all the rejection and disappointment opened me up to new possibilities. I mean, I think to a degree, we all have some mild attraction to the same sex. For some it’s stronger and it causes them to be gay and flamboyant and what not. For others it’s half-and-half or less even. And then for me, well, it’s dormant until the right person comes along and fucks with your emotions and catapults society’s ideals into oblivion to leave you all mushy and gushy inside. Even those words sound embarrassing as hell.
Some might argue that I was gay to begin with, some might say that love knows no limits [I must disagree, one limit is definitely species if nothing else], and still some might say that I’m some poor soul frolicking his way to some place of eternal damnation for choosing to like bananas more than oranges. To be quite honest…as I tend to be…I don’t really give a rat’s ass what “some say”. Because SOME did not bring me into this world, SOME isn’t taking care of me, and SOME sure as hell aint living the life I’m living. So those SOME can go straight to fire and brimstone in my humble, loving opinion.
Now…so the guy. What was so…so…alluring about him? Like…what kind of a guy could turn a relatively good looking heterosexual male into a fairy? Well, I don’t know what it takes for everyone else but for me it took Zye. Full name: Zyiah Johnson. This man, this dude, took me off guard. So far off guard that when my lips touched his I damn near wet myself from confusion. He’s gorgeous, Zye is, but I mean, he aint the prettiest thing. He’s just…well…Zye. Average build, loving warm brown eyes with a slight tint of green, and cappuccino colored skin. Our complexion is about the same but our auras...well, let’s just say if auras were different types of stars Zye’s aura would be a supernova and mine would be a brown dwarf. If you don’t know about astrology go look it up.
Zyiah is one of those people who commands attention not because of how attractive they are [though his fineness sure isn’t hurting him]. Zye’s power comes from his presence, his sheer force of will and determination. It’s the subtle intelligence in his eyes that seems to strip you of all the masks that life has designed for you. Instantly, Zye saw passed my cynical worldview and told me what I needed: someone to love me hard as hell and erase the years of rejection and shit that left me a shade short of gothic and cynical. If one were to just look at him…well…they wouldn’t know that he was a gay man. Women still molested him with their eyes but he never encouraged them. Hell, even some known and very comfortable straight men have found themselves lost in his luster. He was just one of those people. They probably wouldn’t quite understand why they stared at him so bemused. They’d probably even claim that it was his style or something. You know? It’d go something like…he had some nice shoes on or some other lame shit like that.
With all my strength and might I tried to hold on to my straightness. I tried my best to convince myself that I wasn’t “this way” and that I shouldn’t feel what I felt towards him but hell, all that talking to myself left me crazy and my throat dry. He took me, overpowered me with his gentleness, with the understanding in his eyes, with the magic in his touch, with…with his Zyeness (yes, I said Zyeness, get over it.)
I had a thread of control. I had enough power to deny him entrance to my undeniably heterosexual heart when suddenly the son of a bitch smiled. He smiled and that did it. He unraveled every chain, unlocked every door, demolished every wall, ransacked every single thing that he could to get to that small dwelling place known as my heart. Zye did it all with a smile and I hated myself for how easy it was. But the more I hated myself for it the more his ass loved me and as much as I hate to admit it—I couldn’t fight him anymore. I gave up, gave in, and sacrificed it all for the one thing that I never had: a hand to hold through it all and this one wasn’t going anywhere. I went from not good enough to “What did I do to deserve all this?” Who would’ve thought?
1 comment:
The first paragraph is setup wonderfully. You managed to unify MyAn's internal monologue with his dialogue, which is great because he is suffused with a rich voice. He is sassy with a hint of jade that doesn't slip into unnecessary shade. The balance you strike between his cynicism and romanticism makes him lovable.
This first chapter is indicative of your ability to construct a fully fledged character. I think starting him off as a self-identified heterosexual has great potential. It address a real issue in the SGL (and I used that instead of LGBT very deliberately) community. Your writing is not an indictment of his understanding of self, but rather a honest telling of his story and I can't wait to see where it goes.
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