Yo, “Straight” Dude, you asked if I was mad at you. I’m not. I’m enraged. Enraged that you took me on a long emotional roller-coaster ride filled with unsubtle gestures, flirtatious comments, and high octane confusion. That ride has led to my current state of mental and emotional instability. Accompanying it is a rush of frustrations spilling from my pores at 1:00 a.m., a litany of self-abusive comments questioning my self-perceived predatory actions, and rumination over my ability to recognize normal social cues. I’m not sure you did this intentionally, but there’s no questioning that you did do it.
Yo, “Straight” Dude, how’d I miss the signs of your heterosexuality? You know the signs of you inching closer to me as we Netflix and chill for the 5th, 10th, 20th time. How’d I misinterpret your need for female attention as you laid on your bed, legs spread wide, displaying the outline of your male organ while we discussed oral sex for the 25th, 40th, 50th time?
Yo, “Straight” Dude, how foolish am I for not understanding that your charming romantic delivery of the words, “if this dock collapsed, I’d save you first,” was nothing more than friendship chatter? How is it possible that I misread your desire for a girlfriend after I emphatically declared you as my boyfriend and you replied, “pretty much?”
Yo, “Straight” Dude, how is it possible that I failed to recognize that your enjoyment of my derriere grinding between your legs was nothing more than an intense workout? Perhaps you can educate me as to how giving each other lap dances days after I expressed my infatuation for you was just another friendly hang out?
Yo, “Straight” Dude, how’d I misinterpret your frequent glances at my crotch in the gym as nothing more than male bonding? Maybe you can explain how I failed to understand that us eating off of each other’s plates, biting into each other’s food, and drinking from each other’s cups was a brand new definition of bro code?
Yo, “Straight” Dude, tell me what you expected me, an open fully functional, highly sexual gay man to think?
You know me, the gay male that you constantly discuss sex with. You know me, the gay male you frequently examine your masturbation routine with. You know me, the gay male you inquire about gay sex with. You know me, the gay male you ask for anal sex toys recommendations.
Yo, “Straight” Dude, tell me what I was supposed to think as you invited me into the dressing room to help you undress—to unbuckle your belt and get a front-row view of your bare chest and boxer briefs. Were we just being bros then?
Yo, “Straight” Dude, thanks for leading me on. Thanks for sending perfectly crafted straightly gay signals my way. Thanks for playing with my emotions and making me question my sanity. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to examine my levels of desperation and check on my ability to interpret basic human behavior. Thanks for making me stronger. Wiser. And a little more selfish.
Yo, “Straight” Dude, perhaps I am not the one who is confused. Perhaps I am not the one who is delusional. Maybe, just maybe, I see things much more straightly than you do.
I’m mad at myself too. Mad at myself for proposing a series of compromises to my wants and needs. Mad at myself for being anchored by you. Mad at myself for knowing I’d get hurt, and still letting it happen.
Yo, “Straight” Dude, you have a long journey ahead. Thank u, there won’t be a next.