The first day I met him, I knew. I saw it in his eyes, I felt him in my heart: this guy would be the best friend I would ever have. The night he kissed me, my eyes saw fireworks, my heart felt like a drum in my chest,my lips felt the warmth and the softness of his, my whole body was cold and on fire at the same time. I spent the night thinking about this kiss, this wonderful kiss, I spent the night thinking of him and every moment we spent together, I spent the night thinking about every part of his body.
This was before he stops texting me for three whole days, to finally stop by my house tell me that he wants to be just friends, that he didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. I told him he was right, that it was better like this and I pretended I did not care even though deep down I was devastated.
Our friendship did not change, it even grew more and more as the months were passing by.
A night of March, cold and rainy march, he told me he had to move out into a new town, forty minutes away from where we lived at the time and that we wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore besides some week end. I freaked out, I didn’t say anything’ I leaned down, and slowly but passionately I gave him a kiss, even better than the first one. He kissed me back, shocked but still wanting it. And that was it, he left.
At this moment though, I used to live with a host family who was really nice and who allowed him to stay in their house every week end so he could come and see me and our group of friends regularly. After that, we got even closer friends than we were before, sleeping in the same bed, eating in the same plate, sharing the same towels and laughing all the time, never crossing the line though. As I felt the first day, he became the friend I knew he would become.
Summer arrived, and keeping my love for him for myself became harder and harder every week end; so one drunk night I made some allusions about the fact that I might like him. He told me that he had to go back to his country in a few months so starting something with me at this point wouldn’t do any good and the separation would be even harder if we were together. I accepted it, but I still didn’t have a clue if he liked me or if he were making excuses.
A few weeks before he left, another drunk night, another even better kiss, another little confession. This night he looked at me and kissed me like he was in love with me, like he meant it, like I was the most important person in his life. But the night ended, the morning came, and we never talked about it. It was like it never happened.
And then he left, just like that, he went back to his country, leaving me here crazy in love and wondering what was that thing, this unnamed thing between the both of us.
We kept in touch and he invited me to visit him, so I could meet his family and his friends and we could see each other again. Eight months passed by and I finally got there to see him again, as in love as I was before. The week went fast and the night before my departure we got really drunk and in the car I starting talking about how I missed being drunk when he was around because we couldn’t drunk kiss as we used to do.
He parked the car and looked me right in the eye and told me. He told me he couldn’t drunk kiss me anymore, that it will never happen again. I told him. I told him I always loved him and that I wasn’t over him yet. He told me. He told me he loved me as much as his heart could love but he was going through something difficult at the moment. He had been wondering but now he was sure “I even have a boyfriend” is the last thing he told me before I burst out in tears.
Now, this was how it happened. I read a lot of similar stories about how it happens but they never tell about the feelings you get when you find out the guy you are in love with, is in love with another guy.
It hurts. You feel your heart breaking in small pieces, you wonder if this were your fault after all “I’m the last girl he kissed, maybe I disgusted him?” You cry a lot, you tell your best friend, you tell yourself over and over and over that now he will never be yours, and you cry a little bit more. You think that you should have seen it coming “what kind of guy likes Ariana Grande’s songs THAT much?” the signs were there but you were denying it. You feel really stupid “what kind of girl am I to fall in love with a guy I should have known was gay?” And, like every broken heart in this world you think you’ll never find someone better and that your life is ruined.
Then you calm down, and you start seeing the other side “wouldn’t it be even worse if he were in love with a girl?” At least now I know that me-myself wasn’t the problem, the only problem is that I literally have something missing. Should I point out the elephant in the room? And if the guy is as amazing as my guy, you guys will be even closer after a drama of this kind. Come on you’ve watched gossip girl (maybe with him?), you know how drama gets people closer. Now we remain the best friends ever and we can say that we know everything about each other and we can talk about our difficulties to overcome whatever we need to overcome because we know we can trust each other.
I am not saying I’m over it yet, I’m far from being over it, it still hurts at the thought that we won’t ever be together, but I’m happy he found himself and I know I will too, at some point.
Girls, never feel stupid for falling for a gay guy, it happens way more than you can imagine! and guys, if you’re gay and feel like a girl starts falling for you, tell her as soon as possible and keep her close, she will be an amazing friend to you!