It was at uni when I first came to terms with who I am. I met a boy 3 years older than me. Like all meetings ours was just casual. We both ran for student government my freshman year, he as Chairperson and I as a freshman representative. We didn't start out as buddies nor did we start out dating each other. It was all a business arrangement.
Going through the campaign process he started to hang out with me more and at times would invite me to his apartment to spend the night. I would spend several nights over at his house which he shares with a couple of his friends. I'd sleep on the spare bed in his room. Hanging out and spending the night at his house didn't mean anything to me other than the start of a good friendship.
Our party won majority of the seats, me winning as a freshman representative and him clinching the Chairperson seat. On the night of our victory, the entire slate decided to celebrate at a local bar. A few speeches here and there but mostly games. One of the games played was suck and blow where you suck on a playing card and pass it on to the person next to you, either to the left or right. Whoever drops the card is in for an unexpected smack on the lips with the other person. As if by instinct, he looked for me through the crowd and asked that I stand beside him, to which I naively indulged. The card was passing around the group and when it was finally his turn to pass it on to me, the card dropped. I remember people chuckling, gasping and all sorts of reactions when our lips touched. It wasn't just a smack because he pressed his lips intently on mine as if saying that he dropped the card on purpose.
When we were introduced people already told me that he was gay. I didn't pay much attention to that little detail because it didn't matter to me whether he was or wasn't. So when that card dropped I did not for one second think that it meant anything. I intentionally kept naive about the incident and brushed it off as accidental. I did so because I did not want to acknowledge the flutters in my stomach after the incident. I did not want to acquiesce to the fact that I felt giddy and that the world stopped for a brief moment when our lips touched. How could I? I could not even say to myself that I'm gay much less accept the fact that I kissed a boy and I liked it. I didn't want to. It wasn't safe to be outside. I cherished the modicum of peace and comfort that my dark and damp closet provides me.
As the night grew deeper, people started to leave the bar one by one. We were among the last to leave with me a bit inebriated. I said my goodbye to the group and headed towards the exit when he called out and told me to just come home with him instead to spend the night. It wasn't safe to go home alone when you're drunk. I insisted on going home but his housemates insisted too that I go home with them. I relented.
As soon as he opened the door, I took off my shoes and made my way to his room and on to the spare bed with him right behind me. I slumped myself into the bed feeling grateful to finally rest after an eventful day (and night). He came over to the side of the bed and asked me to share his bed instead. That moment all the alarms sounded in my head but I was just too drunk to resist or reason out. So I stood up and laid on his bed facing the wall, him facing my back. I was cognizant enough to hear him breathing heavily against my back and I could feel the tiny hairs on my nape stand every time he exhales.
You know people say you somehow lose control when you're drunk? It's not really losing control over your actions. It's more of loosening up because your inhibitions are weakened as the alcohol takes effect. I brazenly decided to get whatever this is, over and done with. I turned over to face him, eyes still closed, my breath matching his heavy breathing. A few moments later I could feel him coming closer to me, his face inching dangerously close to mine. Then, it happened. He kissed me with wild abandon, a kiss so passionate that I didn't have time to process it. What did I do? I did what anyone (I think) would do in my position. I kissed back as passionately as he was kissing me. We both grabbed each others head to push each others face closer. It felt as if our lives depended on that kiss. The warmth of his breath laced with the smell of cigarette and alcohol was enough to make anyone vomit. It wasn't anything like that to me. It was intoxicating. It awakened every sensation in my body washing away all the alcohol and flooding my veins instead with happy pills dissolved in liquid passion.
I broke free that night. I finally let myself go. Hello self, I said. Nice to finally meet you.
xoxo
QB
Going through the campaign process he started to hang out with me more and at times would invite me to his apartment to spend the night. I would spend several nights over at his house which he shares with a couple of his friends. I'd sleep on the spare bed in his room. Hanging out and spending the night at his house didn't mean anything to me other than the start of a good friendship.
Our party won majority of the seats, me winning as a freshman representative and him clinching the Chairperson seat. On the night of our victory, the entire slate decided to celebrate at a local bar. A few speeches here and there but mostly games. One of the games played was suck and blow where you suck on a playing card and pass it on to the person next to you, either to the left or right. Whoever drops the card is in for an unexpected smack on the lips with the other person. As if by instinct, he looked for me through the crowd and asked that I stand beside him, to which I naively indulged. The card was passing around the group and when it was finally his turn to pass it on to me, the card dropped. I remember people chuckling, gasping and all sorts of reactions when our lips touched. It wasn't just a smack because he pressed his lips intently on mine as if saying that he dropped the card on purpose.
When we were introduced people already told me that he was gay. I didn't pay much attention to that little detail because it didn't matter to me whether he was or wasn't. So when that card dropped I did not for one second think that it meant anything. I intentionally kept naive about the incident and brushed it off as accidental. I did so because I did not want to acknowledge the flutters in my stomach after the incident. I did not want to acquiesce to the fact that I felt giddy and that the world stopped for a brief moment when our lips touched. How could I? I could not even say to myself that I'm gay much less accept the fact that I kissed a boy and I liked it. I didn't want to. It wasn't safe to be outside. I cherished the modicum of peace and comfort that my dark and damp closet provides me.
As the night grew deeper, people started to leave the bar one by one. We were among the last to leave with me a bit inebriated. I said my goodbye to the group and headed towards the exit when he called out and told me to just come home with him instead to spend the night. It wasn't safe to go home alone when you're drunk. I insisted on going home but his housemates insisted too that I go home with them. I relented.
As soon as he opened the door, I took off my shoes and made my way to his room and on to the spare bed with him right behind me. I slumped myself into the bed feeling grateful to finally rest after an eventful day (and night). He came over to the side of the bed and asked me to share his bed instead. That moment all the alarms sounded in my head but I was just too drunk to resist or reason out. So I stood up and laid on his bed facing the wall, him facing my back. I was cognizant enough to hear him breathing heavily against my back and I could feel the tiny hairs on my nape stand every time he exhales.
You know people say you somehow lose control when you're drunk? It's not really losing control over your actions. It's more of loosening up because your inhibitions are weakened as the alcohol takes effect. I brazenly decided to get whatever this is, over and done with. I turned over to face him, eyes still closed, my breath matching his heavy breathing. A few moments later I could feel him coming closer to me, his face inching dangerously close to mine. Then, it happened. He kissed me with wild abandon, a kiss so passionate that I didn't have time to process it. What did I do? I did what anyone (I think) would do in my position. I kissed back as passionately as he was kissing me. We both grabbed each others head to push each others face closer. It felt as if our lives depended on that kiss. The warmth of his breath laced with the smell of cigarette and alcohol was enough to make anyone vomit. It wasn't anything like that to me. It was intoxicating. It awakened every sensation in my body washing away all the alcohol and flooding my veins instead with happy pills dissolved in liquid passion.
I broke free that night. I finally let myself go. Hello self, I said. Nice to finally meet you.
xoxo
QB
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