Red

I had heard about the wonders of the outside world from my friends, but I never got to fully experience it; and it was a marvel of mine to do so. Every morning and evening as I saw a glimpse of the room, I wished that it would be me who would be selected to wander the bustling streets of Beirut; alas, it never was so. Until last Saturday that is… I felt a shiver run up and down my entire being as I felt his warm hands touch against me – I felt giddy with excitement. So this is what it must feel like to be anxious, scared, and excited all at the same time, I thought. I could already imagine the fun and adventure that lay ahead of me that evening.

The minute I stepped out of the house, the pleasant evening breeze greeted me like a long-lost friend. Its cool touch against my skin was welcoming and accepting. I walked the streets with an ease and confidence I had not known I possessed… but little did I know that the feeling would not remain until the rest of the evening. Others looked at me and smiled, others giggled and tried to pathetical hide their amusement under their noses; but I saw them all. I suddenly turned an even darker shade of red! Where they making fun of me? The thought came to my mind in a flash. I walked faster, trying to hide in the shadows; but it was no use.

The pub was packed to the brim with party-goers and their prying eyes bore into mine with sly smiles and evil grins. Sitting on a barstool, I hoped and prayed that no one would notice me; but again it was no use.

“OMG! What the hell is he wearing?”

“He looks so nasty in those pants!”

“Seriously? Does he not own a mirror?”

Their words reached my ears like piercing cries although they were whispers. Why where they judging me? Why is it so wrong to be different? My embarrassment slowly, but surely turned into anger. I looked at all the different colors of the other jeans… they were all the same; varying hues of the same colors of blue and black, whereas I stood out in my red-brightness. Feeling a surge of courage, I stood from my bar-stool and danced to the music blaring out from the speakers.

To be different… What does it really mean? I had foolishly assumed that these jeans in this specific pub would accept me for who I am because they too are different… Instead of accepting me as one of them – something different and brave – they turned against me. I was hoping to seek refuge from the outside world by rushing into this pub where being different is meant to be the norm… but that night, it wasn’t so.

Once home, I heard him heave a heavy and defeated sigh as he undressed me. He lifted me up and starred into my eyes with a look that I knew it meant that it was over… He was saying good-bye. A part of me wanted to beg him not to give up on me, but I knew it was too late.

“What a waste of money,” I heard him say as he folded me. I felt a shudder go through me and a lone tear made its way down my cheek leaving a hot trail behind.

Be different… embrace your uniqueness! I wanted to shout it out to him. Don’t let others tell you how to live your life! But my words never left my lips.

He gently patted and returned me to my rightful place, and I saw the outside world one last time before he shut the wood paneled closet doors.

“So was it as fun as you always thought it would be?”

“Did he take you to that pub he always takes us? Did you enjoy the music? That DJ always knows what songs to play!”

“Come on! Why aren’t you telling us?”

Their voices bombarded my ears and I felt a lump in my throat. They wouldn’t understand what I was feeling… they weren’t as different as I am. They would have easily blended in with that crowd; they just wouldn’t understand...

“I guess people are just not ready to accept those that are different yet… even those that take pride in claiming to be unique.”

The voices stopped… I closed my somber eyes and went to sleep knowing I’ll never walk those streets again.

Why Straight Men Hate Me and Gay Guys Don't Want to Date Me

Hi everyone. My name is Gary. I'm 23 years old... and yes... I've been single since 2004. At first, I used to feel ashamed talking about the many years of "singlehood" I've had, but with time I've grown wiser (I guess... More like I hope) and I've become more comfortable talking about it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm single... Yes, it is lonely; yes, it is sad... In the beginning, I used to tell myself, "Who needs to be tied down?" "Why chose one player when I can have have the whole team?" "Why chose one color of the rainbow when I can have all?" "I don't need a man to tie me down..." However, as the years went by I've realized what these all were: These were excuses. Pathetic and sad excuses I had dragged and used over and over again. It took me a while to know the truth, but I think a part of me always knew it but refused to believe it. Call me a "hopeless romantic" but I never lost my faith in love and in finding the "one". I'm a sucker for corny Hollywood romantic-comedies and cheap romance novels... But those were all toxic to my self-esteem. They helped build this fictional idea of what I thought love and relationship "should" be like... what they "must" be like. However, as they say, experience is and was the best teacher I've ever had. Thinking back about the past, I can honestly say I've only been in one relationship... and it was my first one too. It was during my awkward high school days when I wasn't so sure if I was gay or not... Thinking about it now, I wouldn't even label it a "relationship". It was a total mess and it's sad to know that I consider that part of my life as the longest relationship that I've ever had. Kissing in the bathroom secretly, sending each other messages in "code", seeing each other on weekends for only half-an-hour... Not what I would call "romance-book" material! Suffice to say, once high school was over so was my "relationship".
Dating at AUB was not that different either. Nothing much had changed regarding my "relationship status". It was during this period that I discovered the landmark of online man-choosing, i.e., Manjam and Gaydar. I created a profile using my most provocative pictures. I tried to express my quirky personality by writing a funny description about myself... I thought I was surely a catch. Any guy is lucky to have me! I would think to myself. Unfortunately, I only attracted the scum of the website. No one read my profile description... I just got cock-pics and badly spelled one-liners that would make a second-grader glad to be able to spell: "me watns 2 fuk u ze goodies wayz!" The online man-catalog made me repulse males... but that didn't stop me from meeting them in cafes, their apartments, or in other shady places. And every time I went there, I thought to myself: "What the hell am I doing here?"
It was during this time that I learned something about why I'll always be single... One guy I was occasionally meeting up because he "likes my personality" but the funny thing... We never talked much... said something that really struck a cord with me. I asked him why we never hung out anywhere else but his bedroom and he looked at me and said with a smirk: "I can only be seen with you in my bedroom. I don't want everyone to know I'm gay."
"Why because I look gay?" I countered.
He replied with a laugh as he made the bed (while I was still in it - taking that as a cue to get the hell out of there), "Have you seen yourself?" That was his reply. As though that were a good enough answer to my question.
And then it all dawned on me... It became clear as a diamond carat ring... Gay guys don't date me because I act "too gay". Straight men hate me because I represent everything they've been taught by society to be wrong and disgraceful. Men - REAL men - don't cry in public, don't express their emotions, don't show any weakness, are supposed to be confident and think they are right even when they are dead scared and wrong... I wasn't anything like that. I cry in public, I squeal when excited or happy... I'm just gay. As I sat there watching him strut around his "gay-only" bedroom I actually felt a little sorry for him. Here he was, a gay man, trying desperately to fit in with his "straight counterparts". Suddenly my sympathy towards him turned to anger, "Well I can't be seen with a gay-guy in denial!" I retorted, hoping I'd hurt him enough. He turned to me and said, "I'd rather be in the closest then out there."
What these gays-in-denial don't know is that its "feminine" gay guys like me that are actually out there doing something for the community. We're the ones being ridiculed on the street day in and out, but we still leave our houses; not because we have to, but because by exposing people to us we hope to raise awareness that gay guys do exists and not all of us are "fictional-Western creations". No. We are living, breathing things that walk, talk, and think.
The issue of femininity has always left a sour taste in my mouth. I never think of myself as feminine. To me, femininity and masculinity are dimensional not categorical; its a spectrum, not a black or white category. Yes, I do act "feminine" at times, but that's just who I am. At first, I tried to "macho" myself up for these losers I met up with... but after a while, it got tiring. Why should I pretend to be someone I'm not? It took me a long time to accept myself and I wasn't going to change for anyone. When I would still chat up with guys on MSN off my Manjam account, and whenever they would ask me: "R u fem or st8 acting" I always respond, "what does a fem act like?" The same answer is what I routinely received, "I dunno." Its paradoxical almost how gay men don't mind having sex with feminine guys, but wouldn't want to be caught dead dating or be seen with one in public. Its almost sad...
Thinking about it now... I''ve decided that no guy is truly worth changing myself for. No one is worth the hassle and the drama. If someone is truly interested in me then they would like the whole package, regardless of the fact that I squeal like a 14 year-old high school girl when I see my friends. The more gay guys I met in Lebanon, the more I started to appreciate my dog instead. Unlike these gays-so-far-in-the-closet-

they-can-see-Narnia dudes, my dog doesn't mind being seen with me outside the confides of my bedroom (I hope this doesn't portray the image of me and my dog having sex!)
Straight men will always have difficulty accepting me... they'll always hate me. I'm everything that is "wrong" with society today. I'm the bringer of "diseases" and "Godly-shame". Gay men will never date me because they have difficulty accepting themselves. Yes, I may sound cocky and arrogant, but I consider myself liberated. I don't worry whether or not people walking in the street will know I'm gay because I honestly don't care. I know its wrong for me to think that all gay guys are in denial, I know some gay guys cannot afford the luxury to be out to their parents and friends; but I'm not referring to the ones who might be stoned to death because they are gay, I'm talking about those guys who are SO obviously gay and hang out in ALL the gay places but still look down at the feminine guys. The guys who displace and project their own insecurities about homosexuality onto others. Guys who are SO afraid of being gay that they try to be as macho as possible because they try to repress their gayness. And the thing that really bugs me is that "feminine" guys continue to go after these not-so-deserving scrubs... I guess one has to do with what they have.
Straight men may hate me... That I cannot change... But there is one thing that I can change and that is not obsess about not dating anyone! And as a friend of mine once said, "Gary, you're heart belongs to the person you have yet to meet." Until then...

Gary