4
Tom Carlile
The Uber from the airport to my house usually takes over thirty minutes, and it’s even worse tonight in this holiday traffic. Which gives me ample time to think…
Before you judge me, let me tell you I’m not an idiot. I know that falling for straight guys is the oldest story in the book. Every gay man I know has a story from their past when they made the mistake of falling desperately in love with a straight man who would never love them back, and it always ends in the same way: a big ole’ pot of heartbreak. All my friends were horrified when I started mentioning my crush on him. It’s the oldest mistake there is, and yet I did it. Here I am.
It started slowly. Well, I was infatuated from the first moment, but I’ve had obsessions with straight guys before, and they usually just went away. I waited for my infatuation with Evan to go away, but it never did. He wasn’t just the usual “straight guy” archetype I’d met before. They can be so closed off, so repressed – but he wasn’t. He was totally open and accepting with me, from the first moment onward.
I wanted to think he was the typical hot guy, but he wasn’t. His soul was shockingly deep – he was full of insights and wisdom and sayings, and I’ve never seen anyone love anything like he loves his little dog. And when my Mamaw died, he texted me every single day during the funeral week. Not once or twice. Every day.
He seemed genuinely concerned, in a way that felt deeper than the usual “how are you doing?” text. He was like a brother, but a brother I somehow wanted to fuck really badly, if that makes any sense at all.
We started hanging out more and more as friends, but that just made it worse. He was fucking gorgeous in a way I couldn’t ignore – his wavy black hair was movie-star lustrous, and his years of playing football meant he was beefy in the way I could never resist. Almost every night in bed, I’d jack off to the fantasies of him, and every morning I’d stare him down from across the kitchen, mourning something I could never have.
I should’ve just moved out when I had the chance. But I let the love happen. He doesn’t know that when he walks into the room, my heart stops. He is the only person I’ve ever met who accepts me for exactly what I am. He loves it when I put on a sassy, glittery top and pose in the living room, and he cheers on everything I ever hated about myself.
I’ve always felt like I was “too much” for people, too loud and too opinionated and too whatever, but to Evan I am somehow just right. I’ve never met a straight guy who is so understanding. Evan is the perfect counter-balance to me. When I need to bitch and vent and just talk to someone, he is always there. He is the first person who has ever made me feel like I am good enough.
A few months ago I realized I was heartsick over someone I could never have, so I rebelled against it. Hard. I threw myself onto the gay dating apps, but every date just made me think of Evan, and how much better the date would’ve been with him. Nobody understood me like him; nobody made me laugh like he could. I got messy and started bringing guys around, and naturally, Evan freaked. And I understood why. After all, he was open-minded, but he was still straight. And I exposed him to too much of the gay world, too soon.
Just because he was willing to watch drag queen TV shows with me didn’t mean he was comfortable with me bringing guys around. I knew my sex life was nobody’s business but mine, but still: there are rules you follow around straight guys. I broke all of them, and our friendship got weirder than ever. (If you can even call it a friendship, I guess.) He is increasingly awkward and quiet around me, and it’s all my fault. I have nobody to blame but myself.
And now, he’s doing exactly what I thought he would. He’s freaked out by being around my dates, and he’s going to notify me he’s looking for a new roommate in the new year.
That’s why I’ve been trying to pull back from him. I knew this would only end in flames. I’ve heard these stories before. If I stay, I might get drunk one night and confess and pour my heart out, and he’ll be absolutely horrified and kick me out – or worse. I’ve even heard of these situations ending in total beat-downs.
I don’t think Evan would be violent, per se, but anything is possible. At this point I’m even contemplating moving out, even if he doesn’t kick me out first. I can’t imagine my life without him, but at this point, I am out of options.
If I can’t have Evan, I don’t want anyone or anything at all.
~
When the driver drops me off at our building, it’s drizzling. When I walk in, Evan is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, but he looks…sick, or something. I want to drop my bags and rush to him, take him in my arms and kiss him, but clearly I can’t. I don’t even want to look at him right now, and have to face what I will be losing in the new year – but I have to. Because suddenly he won’t look away from me, and he’s pale and weird and ashy and…well, totally un-Evan-like.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi?”
“Can we talk?” he asks, and I swallow. The look on his face tells me exactly what I’ve been dreading. He doesn’t want me anymore. It got too weird.
Oh, well. Maybe I got too gay around him. Maybe he just noticed how I felt. Maybe someone told him. I knew my loudmouth friends couldn’t be trusted.
Anyway, this has happened before. Last year my boss at my part-time receptionist job called me into the office with a dour look on his face.
“Look,” my boss said soon, “people are saying things, and although we have nothing against you or your lifestyle at all, this is more of a family-friendly atmosphere…”
It really happened. They fired me for being gay. The first thing I did was call a lawyer, who told me two things: she was absolutely fucking furious, and there was nothing in the world I could do about it, since the state laws held no explicit LGBT protections.
So this is the same thing. I’m getting the boot, from a guy I’m in love with. I never should’ve brought home that guy – fuck. I knew it was a mistake, but I was lonely, and he was being flirty, and, well…
“Is this about rent?” I begin, trying to bargain. “I told you, I was submitting it a day late this month, I got fired and everything has been a mess…”
He swallows. “No, no, not rent. Don’t ever worry about that, anyway. This is about…well, it’s about us, I guess.”
My shoulder drops. I knew it. “Great,” I kind of laugh. “Super. Just like I thought.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just say it,” I spit out, fed up with the whole day, after the incident at the airport.
“Say what?”
“That you’re uncomfortable around me because I’m so gay, and you’re kicking me out. Say it, it’s fine, I’ve been through this before. I’ll survive…if I have to…”
He sort of shakes his head, then smiles in an odd way. “Tom. Tom…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not kicking you out.”
“Okay…? What is this, then?”
He gets a face like he’s swallowing a huge, nasty pill. I’ve never seen him look ugly until now, actually, and it makes me smile a little.
Finally he clears his throat and looks me dead in the eye. “I’m…well, the thing is, I’m in love with you.”
And time stops.
As I stand there in our tiny kitchen, I stare and blink.
“What did you say?” I ask soon. “Sorry, I think I had a daydream.”
But he doesn’t react. “I…I’m in love with you, Tom.”
A tingly feeling tickles my stomach. I reach up and rub my temples. “Sorry, say that again, one more time. I just hallucinated.”
“I love you, Tom,” he says, his face twisting with pain and anguish. “I…I know this will probably freak you out and make you run away, but I don’t know how else to say it, or what else to do anymore. You invented the color of blue in the sky, and this ruined everything, I know it did, and I just…yeah. So. This all happened, and I know it’s the end, but I just had to tell you all that, because you’re kinda sorta basically on my mind forever. And yeah, by the way, I love you.”
In that moment, I want to deny it, to tell myself I’m asleep or hallucinating or that he’s just joking – but all at once, I know it’s true.
I know because he has the look I’ve had on my face for six months. I see it on myself every time I look in the mirror, that look of heartsickness and confusion and joy, and now it’s on his face instead. And maybe it always was – maybe I isolated myself too deeply to notice it, too stuck in my own mind to realize what was right in front of me…
And then I realize what the tickly feeling was, and I lean over and vomit into the potted plant behind the table.