What I Wanted Was Love

When I was seventeen years old I had a huge crush on a girl. At the time it didn’t make any sense. I was confused, unsure of my sexuality and I had internal demons I was fighting apart from everything.

So I thought to myself, how it’s it that I am gay, but at the same time want to spend all my time with this girl? Talk to her, make her laugh, feel her body warmth near me?

Was it because I was not in fact gay? Was it just in my head? A “straight” phase? Was I trying to convince myself that I wasn’t actually what I thought I was? I remember when she would hang out with other boys, my head would boil. How were they more important than me? Who she talked to on a daily?

The first night I kissed her it was amazing. It was actually the first time I had kissed anyone. And of course we didn’t know what we were doing with it being our first time, but I enjoyed it. I was so filled with joy at the thought of thinking I wasn’t actually gay, because at the time I didn’t want to be.

I moved away and we somehow got distant. We soon broke it off. I was still on the mentality that I was gay. I cried for several days when we did end things. I did love her. I believed that I was gay because I followed the gay stereotype. I liked this and that, ok then I guess I’m gay.

As the years progressed I found myself having sexual relationships with men. It was good I’m not going to lie, no one on earth can say that any sexual act that is welcomed isn’t good. But at the end I felt guilty. Dirty even sometimes. Many times during sex I wished it would stop.

I have never been in love with a man. What I had fallen for before was just the thought if someone caring for me. Someone who could protect me from the dangers of life. But I became my own protected and this year is when I found out.

I’ll be candid for a second, once I saw myself as the person I am. I stopped craving a mans touch. Even just being with a man in the first place. And if I did, I wanted to be the dominant one. And I was many times. But soon even that wasn’t what I actually wanted. What I wanted was love. No hot steamy sex. Just plain simple love.

Did I find it? I’m not certain. I did meet a wonderful girl who takes my breathe away every day. Every time we talk it’s like we’ve known each other for ever. We have the same interests, the same dislikes, and even the same goals.

So am I gay? Straight? Pansexual? Can I just love someone for who they are regardless of their gender without being pointed at?

I told a friend about this girl I like last week. Her response was “no, you’re gay. You’ve been gay and you’ll always be gay.”

Is my sexual orientation Solemnly calculated with evidence from my past? Life changes, life changes us, we change as people, and along with that so do our desires.

I’m not saying I’m straight, sure I’m attracted to guys I will never deny that. But when I picture my future I always imagine it with a girl. And I’ve only had actually feelings for girls. I’ve only been in love with girls.

So what am I? I do not know. All that I know is that I just want to live my life, without people putting labels on things.

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The Ugly Part Of Friendship

Friendship is like a piece of paper. It’s nice when it’s new. The possibilities are endless to what you can write. It’s a blank canvas of endless adventures and excitement. It’s clean, untouched, and unbothered. Sometimes it almost feels like there is no ending.

But, crumble that paper up in a ball. Or grab a pen and pierce the paper fiercely with anger. Wet it and throw it around some. Step on it. Make little cuts along the edges.

Now, try to unfold it. Try to make it as flat and as smooth as it once was. Try to make it new again. Try to read the words that were once on that paper now filled with holes. Is it still wet? Is it sticking to itself? Are the blue lines that separated sentences blurred and hard to tell apart? Is it a struggle just figure out what to do with the paper? Is there anything else that can be done to save it or is it just a lost cause?

In the same way, friendship can go through so many challenges and in the end it will never be a clean piece of paper. It’s fragile, damaged, barley holding together, and it’s hard to make out what once was. Will it ever be the same once it has gone through so many obstacles? All the mistrust, hate, deceiving, lying, and deception?

That’s the ugly part of friendship. Tell me, is it really worth it, to keep this friendship alive?

Great Things

My mother is one of the strongest women I know. I don’t say that because she is my mother but because I’ve seen what’s she’s been through and it amazes me how good of a person she still is. Some people would walk around like with a sour taste in their tongues wishing bad about people just like they have received themselves.

I’ve learned a lot from her, sometimes or should I say most of the time, she would tell me things and I would ignore her because I was always the one that was correct right? Wrong. The one thing I wish I had always done was actually pay attention to the instructions she had to say.

It a always been for my own good. She’s not greedy, she’s not mean, and she’s only shown love towards me. But like any other young adult the parents are the ones that are wrong and after us which is not true.

Parents have experience maybe twice as much as you have or even more, maybe it was a different era, different times, and obstacles but the concept was the same. So maybe you should listen to them no?

Of course I know there are some parents that have an exception. But still, finding the wrong in them before you give them a chance just doesn’t make any sense. We all need chances and some of us need more than others but sometimes those chances bring upon great things.

Stay Strong Mom

I woke up fifteen minutes before 4 AM in the morning. No alarm, no one woke me up. It was just the sensation that something was different.

My brother has been working night shifts and I am his ride, I have to pick him up at 4:30. Every morning everyday before I go to work. He usually calls me when I have to pick him up, today I was already awake and coming back from Starbucks. I needed coffee, let me rephrase that, I needed sugar.

Once my brother was home and said his goodbyes to my mother we drove to the hospital where her reconstruction surgery was going to take place. She was nervous I could tell. I was calm, at least that’s what I gave off in appearance.

We registered and got her admitted and soon we were speaking to the nurses and doctors regarding the surgery and the procedures. They explained what and how they were going to do it (again), it was pretty raw and gruesome, but that’s the way doctors should be.

Pretty soon I said good bye and watched her get wheeled away and taken. I had a minor flash back of last year when she had her mastectomy. Last year I was in a terrible place. I’m ok admitting that now.

Now I’m in a better place. Nonetheless, I do have emotions, and it is terrifying just being in a hospital in general. I am from Hispanic decent and if you have ever watched a Spanish soap opera, nothing good comes from hospital nurses mouths.

But I can’t think like that. A nurse updated me and said that everything is going well. No issues, just time. A lot of time left. I’ve been getting a lot of support from friends through social media.

I know they care, but is it wrong for me to ignore them? I need space. I need to focus. I need to center myself. With everyone asking and wishing for the best and saying it’s going to be ok is really overwhelming. It kind of screams at me hey your mom is in a intensive surgery that may or may not end her life ! But good luck!

This is not pushing people away. This is me getting myself together before I explode in front of them. I’m not one to break down in front of people, that’s not really my style. I collect myself and move on. If everyone is worried who’s gonna keep me sane?

Anyway I’m rambling now, I continue to hope and pray that the surgery is a success and that everything goes fine. I am nervous but not as much, I love my mom and losing her would be the worst possible thing in the world.

Stay strong mom. I love you.

9.8.18

Yesterday was the day.

The day I realized something. Standing on stage next to a beautiful young woman, listening to the wedding ceremony, and feeling all the feels, I want to get married.

Ever since my parents divorced when I was younger I started to believe strongly that marriage was just a load of BS. The thought of me getting married was just not in the picture.

I already knew I didn’t want kids. So not getting married would help in a way. Plus I was never in a good place to get married. I’m the soul provider of my family.

But then I thought. Isn’t that what a father or husband does? And then I met this girl. I knew about her. I always saw her once in a while at church and gatherings. But I never talked to her the way I have been talking to her.

We were paired up to dance at a wedding for the bride and the groom. Her soul is pure. Her smile is perfect. And her laugh is magic.

I knew I liked being around her about a week ago. I liked conversing with her and spending time with her. But it wasn’t until yesterday that I realized, I like her.

During the ceremony I began putting myself in the shoes of the groom, and who was there beside me? She was. Her beautiful eyes glowing with tears of happiness and joy.

Later that night when we were dancing, another one of our friends asked her out to dance. She asked me if I was cool with it, of course I said yes. Because we’re just friends right? But deep down inside I was in pain. Jealousy struck me like lightning, and all I could think about was why isn’t she dancing with me?

I wanted her there with me. I wanted to feel her body move with mine. I wanted to hear her voice in my ear. I wanted her presence. I wanted to make and hear her laugh. I wanted her.

And I still do.