Yesterday, for the third time since deciding that if anyone asked I would say yes, I was asked if I was gay.
My reaction, for the second time in a row, completely against my will, was ‘panic and stay silent’ (the first time, I denied it and laughed it off).
I don’t why this happens. The last two times I’ve been asked my brain has just frozen and been replaced with a dead lump until the topic passes. I get asked, and all my thoughts just grind to a halt. I just looked from the asker to the other person there repeatedly, until the other person said something and allowed the conversation to move on.
Thinking about it later, my first, probably really dumb thought is along the lines of “Is this part of adolescence? You have a jackass dickwad in the back of your head who fucks up all your shit?”
But now that I think on it more, I think it’s not really that surprising. I’m already somewhat like this in talking to people who aren’t extremely good-well, established friends. Whenever they say something I “uhh…” for a couple of seconds while I think about how to respond, if they’ll understand what I’m saying, if what I’m saying will offend them, and if what I say will cause them to form some low opinion of me. Of course, this is all instinctual sub-thought stuff, so it’s done in not nearly as many words. No words at all, usually.
So perhaps this is an extension of that. There’s no one I consider myself very emotionally close to, so whenever anyone asks this it’s the same as a just some random person asking a regular question. But this question has added weight from being highly personal and potentially life-fucking-up, so it’s understandable that it could floor my thought processes like that.
This all brings on a second train of thought, which needs more of a play-by-play account of the event:
Me and, let’s say, Greg and Aragorn are standing in the lunch line. We’re talking about something I don’t remember, and this prompts Aragorn, who has been a life-long on-again off-again ‘rather good’ friend-thing, to ask if I’m gay. My brain hits the brakes. I stay silent and look from Aragorn to Greg. After a second of this I realize I’m not doing so great, so I look upwards, thoughtfully, which, given our relationship, should be interpreted as me trying to think of a joke to make. After another second Greg, who has been friends with me since far before Aragorn recently became a friendish thing again, says he doesn’t think I really care, which isn’t quite true, and then says “He will find a hole and fuck it, and if there ain’t one, he will make one…”, quoting Repo! The Genetic Opera. He second statement is pretty much dead wrong, but the situation’s passed well enough, so I shrug and ask if Aragorn has seen Repo!, to make sure the subject changes and stays changed.
Thinking back, the ‘looking around’ reflex is what stands out to me now. It happened both of the last two times, which both involved me not saying anything until the topic passed. And it now occurs to me that essentially I was doing what I’ve heard described as the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look. The first thing that comes to mind after this thought, because I’m a nerd of irredeemable proportions, is Codex from The Guild. I didn’t think I was that socially inept, but I have to consider that I’m somewhere around there.* Hm.
I could certainly add more length, but that’s really all I have to say. And I know I switched tenses a lot, I always do that and have to go back and fix it, but I’m not gonna fix it cause it’s past 2 a.m. Good night, reader.
*This brings on another train of thought, for some reason–there’s a pretty huge fucking divide between how I speak and how I type. Am I using text as a defense mechanism–as in, “Who couldn’t like me when I use big words, don’t pause for no reason, and everything I say is carefully measured and thought out?” That seems like something that requires a few days’ pondering, however. Plus I’m tired.**
**Also, I realize this post sort of goes directly against my previous post’s statement against stupid teenage bullshit. Well, I’m a teenager who doesn’t have any money to do stuff with and lives in the country. What the fuck else am I gonna write about?