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Dave

March 2000

February 14, 2000

Happy Valentine's Day to all the uncoupled lonely closet people. Love ya.

By the time you read this Valentine's Day will be long gone. What did you do on that day? Whom did you appreciate? Did you have someone to recognize on that day, did you love someone that day? I hate it. I hate Valentine's Day. I've never had someone on this day to give my love to, never really had anyone at all, and this just reminds me of it.

I wonder how many out there are like me? How many sit at home and wonder when there's will come? How many closeted teens live through everyday knowing they're different, knowing they aren't like most, and thinking they're alone? How many of us pass each other every day, both in misery, without being able to even acknowledge each other because we don't know? Because we both live in fear, fear of discovery, and the gamble we'd take to find out if there were others like us out there is too risky to take? And how many of us fake our whole social life? I for one do, I put on a smile and grin and flirt, even...

"You've never seen the lonely me at all." -Placebo, Without You I'm Nothing.

Someone e-mailed me a response to my first column. He was very much like me, closeted and faking every bit, and depressed at not having anyone. But he brought up something I hadn't really looked at before. He said that he knew college would be better, something I look forward to, but he also said that what if we're wasting our time now? What if this is it, what if we die tomorrow, what if we look back in twenty years, after never having found the right person, and realize that maybe it would've been better to start in high school? He said that if he was straight, he would've had at least three or four girlfriends by now. I, personally, know I would've had a few, too, I'm big on love and stuff. Ironic. Anyway, he said it's gonna be like high school dating in college, he won't have any experience, and will have to learn as he goes, which may turn off potential guys. I'm the same way, hell, I don't even have an idea on how to date someone, what to do, when to do it, whatever. I will be clueless. And then there's the other thing... I'm not very much into guys older than me, and I don't know too many guys my age I like even. I've always been attracted to that smaller guy, the ones with boyish faces, you know. Never been big on the burly man thing. Basically, I like mostly the sophomores at my school, a few juniors, and some freshmen. There isn't one senior, my age, my class, that I like. How am I going to find anyone in college? Especially the one I'm going to, it doesn't even have dorms (at least that's the one I'm attending first).

So I'm screwed with my future.. Yeah, it happens. I wouldn't be so messed up about it, but I can't stop obsessing about the guys here. As for girls we're kinda lax, but we've got some good looking guys, let me tell ya! And every day I have to look at them and know, or at least think, DON'T TOUCH! SORRY, GIRLS ONLY. Sometimes it makes me mad, not at anyone in particular, just frustrated at the fact that I can't flirt, date, touch, cuddle, kiss, or *ahemm* anything else with these guys. Most would probably band together to beat me up if they read this.

Every now and then I get a look, though. An odd look, like a double take or something. They look, I'm either not looking, or just stopped looking, and they just keep looking. That is until I look back, then they avert. Maybe it's just the fact they've seen me staring at them before, maybe they just look at me because I tend to draw attention to myself by being loud or because I'm a senior... or maybe, maybe they like my blue eyes. Maybe I'm seeing into the world of another like me, another one who's trapped, closeted, and missing out on certain parts of life. But I'll never know, it's too risky.

"Give up this fight / there are no second chances.

This time, I might / to ask the sea for answers." - Placebo, Ask for Answers

See you next month, check my story over in Arts & Entertainment, and email me at neonet@ctlnet.com

Later,

Dave


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