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Thursday, 23 February 2012

Kissing Another Guy for the First Time

Few months ago, I was travelling and during my stay in a dorm hostel, I had to walk past the bunk bed of a latino guy in order to use the bathroom. Therefore, whenever I do, he'd glance at me briefly. I noticed him too but just wasn't aware of anything. 

By the second and third night, he does the same but smiled a little. This time I reciprocated, thinking he looked quite cute under the low-light that emanated from the bathroom. However, we only started talking to each other on the very last day, when everybody left and it was just the 2 of us in the room. It was then I found out he was Mexican. Good-looking, tall, dark, well groomed, nice lips with facial stubble.

While chatting, I immediately picked up on his body language that suggested he might be gay. In addition, he responded to me in ways that seem to prolong attention (something I've always hoped my straight-guy crushes would reciprocate). As a heavily closeted person, I was literally oblivious to all things gay. In other words, my gaydar didn't exist and I was "gay-illiterate". Therefore I couldn't trust what I was sensing.

Then I realised that I was actually reliving a gay courtship scene, somewhat too similar to those we always see in television series. Throughout the conversation, I couldn't concentrate on what I was saying because all I could think of was what it felt like to finally kiss a guy. This is where I told myself to grow a pair! 

With a pounding heart and a red face, I picked up the courage and went...

Me:
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" 
"I know this is going to sound really weird, but are you gay?"

He: [looked up to me, hesitated for a while and went] 
"Yes... ... You?"

Me:
"Yeah." (admitting it out loud for the very first time felt very weird)
"I think." (denial)
"Anyways, are you out? How's it like being gay in Mexico? Is it hard?"

He:
"Yeah... It's not easy you know." 
"It's hard... Very hard." 
"I can't tell my friends and family. Only I know I'm gay."

Me: 
"Hey listen, I actually think you're very cute. Can I kiss you?"

He: [long silence...]

Figuring that I should be more active, I dropped all sense of decency and bent over to land my lips on his. I thought it felt nice, but it was nothing like how I'd imagined it to be. Although I savoured every moment and then pulled away (although I didn't want to). He took it well, smiled and we just carried on chatting.

Soon, it was time for us to leave, and as we said goodbye, he initiated a hug in which I reciprocated. However, I just couldn't get over how disappointing the first kiss wentI grabbed his face and went for another. Boy he smells great and once again, it felt nice, but either he wasn't a good kisser, wasn't attracted to me, or he just couldn't show a bit more passion. I tried my luck by going a little further with my pursuance and he finally stopped me by telling me he doesn't want sex in addition to the chances of being caught in a hostel dorm. I agreed in respect and soon we both parted ways without exchanging contacts.

On the way to O'Hare airport, I couldn't help but thought of myself as a complete loser who behaved like a teenage girl - naive, foolish and lame. I felt a little, if I may say it, awkward and ashamed of what I did. 

Nevertheless, I was secretly proud of myself for being so courageous in initiating something that never before existed in my dictionary of ethics. (Or rather, something that would have happened at the age of 14 with a girl in "straight years".)

But yet, I found myself wondering: 
"Oh shit, what the hell just happened back there?" 
"Why the fuck would I do that?
"What does this mean...? What am I now?"

[long thought...]

"Well, nothing! It was nothing." 
"Absolutely nothing." 
"...nothing happened. [full stop]"

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