You’ll know I like you if I want to hang out even when I’m hungover. The sun shines bright through my windows, I wince my eyes and look over at your naked body. “Oh, that happened.” I think to myself and instead of scurrying for my clothes and thinking of an excuse to kick you out (“I have to vomit”, “I’m really emotional right now”), I get closer and wrap my arms around you. Sounds gay, right? Like two homos dipped in a Nicholas Sparks novel? Think what you want, but if I want to be with you even when I feel like puking and/or pooping, you’re the real deal.
You’ll know I like you when I make fun of your favorite music. If I didn’t, I would’ve just said, “Oh yeah, they sound great.” Agreeing with you requires no effort whereas busting your balls does. And the second you leave, I’m gonna be all up in the blogs researching your favorite bands even if I think they suck. I’ll want to know why you get so much pleasure from a genre like House or Dubstep. I need to know what it says about your personality. Will I find out more about you via a song by Tiesto? There’s only one way to find out!
You’ll know I like you if I back down in an argument. Since I’m usually a controlling Virgo brat, compromise doesn’t come easily to me. If I actually surrender to you, it’s usually because I care about you more than whatever point I was trying to make. I love it when this happens. Since it’s so rare, I get like an instant boner when I see myself becoming slightly submissive. Let’s face it, it’s a full time job being bossy and sometimes I just want someone to slap me around.
You’ll know I like you if you’re straight. Well, that isn’t true anymore but I was all about it during my newborn queer years. This was for a variety of reasons, one being that straight dudes were usually all that was around in high school (I’m using the term “straight” here very loosely of course). There was also just something so gratifying about being the person a guy would go gay for. “Who, me? Oh my god, thank you! Thanks for risking it all for my body! I’m so flattered.” It would take 2.5 minutes for your forbidden romance to turn sour though. The straight dude would freak out while you were contemplating putting yourself “In A Relationship” on Myspace. They can never give what you want besides maybe an orgasm and a temporary boost of self-confidence (followed by a shame spiral that can last several months).
You’ll know I like you if I can’t figure you out. I’m unable trivialize your feelings or reduce you to a punchline or joke. You can actually teach me things. You have layers and subtle nuances that keep me from writing you off.
You’ll know I like you if you like yourself, if you’re a strong person with convictions. You can let it be my show, you can let me have all the attention in the room, but you can also let me know when I’m being an asshole. You’ll tell me to chill out with a firmness in your voice that I will instantly respect. That’s what I’ve been doing all along, just testing you to see if you would actually call me on my bullshit and tell me to stop. That’s all I want, I guess, someone who will tell me to stop, who will calm me down and give me structure. You can do that, right? You’re doing it.