Someone's Gay Friend

My best friend had been back from his holidays. He was away for three months vacationing, while I was working part-time so that I could take things slow, one step at a time to think about my proper career path. I must admit, I kinda felt lonely when he was gone. It's not that I don't have any other friends, but he's one of the closest ones I have here.

We met a year ago, he was starting his Master's degree, and so did I. We went to different unis but stayed in the same area and we both have similar opinions about certain things which made us get along well (with many differences too but we respect each other's opinions). Our courses were different but we shared similar interest in post-colonialisms, which became the subject of most of our discussions. We're not activists in any sense, but we always thought of ourselves as a fighter in the realm of intellectual discourses and academic literatures. We tried our best to provide different perspectives to the general conceptions of the East and the West.

Anyhow, I digress.

So he's back in town, and we're leaving together next week back to our homeland. I came out to him last August, because I know I can trust him, and I feel that he's the kind of person who's open to a different kinds of identity and ideology. We practically fight for that rights in academics sense, so I know I can trust him with who I really am. And also partly because he wouldn't stop talking about girls, and I truly felt uncomfortable lengthening any kind of conversation about woman with him. He's straight, obviously. We were talking about Tinder then, and he was passing comments about the girls on it (well that's the whole point of Tinder, physical appearances is the basis of its workings). I told him I had Tinder too, and that I used it to swipe men only. The rest was history.

So we were out having dinner just now, and he talked about his new obsession - snapchat. He was taking photos and videos of me all the while we were out and told me it was for his snapchat, which was odd considering why should I be in his snapchat. Surely you use snapchat to document your little moments?

Then he said to me that he had told some of his friends while he's on vacations that he has a gay friend. He showed them some videos of me he had recorded whenever we were goofing around, which mostly involved me singing and dancing, or making comments about certain things in a funny stereotypically gay-ish way. He said his friends like me from those videos, so the snapchat thing was to update my usual gay moments. (Don't worry, I trust him, and his snapchat is private, his friends are like us too, unorthodox).

I didn't know how to take it really, and I don't want to start reading into it too much. I'm open about who I am, and the circle of friends that I have as of now mostly know my preferences, only a couple of people I explicitly told them that I love boys. But I don't know, there's something about being called as a 'gay friend' that makes me think how to take that in. It's a new thing to digest. I don't hate it, but I don't see a reason why I should be seen as 'gay friend' when I can just be a...'friend'?

I mean, I am gay, and I am a friend, so there's nothing wrong with 'gay friend' really. Technically, that's who I am. I don't know, perhaps for some people, having gay friends make them feel different too, having some kind of pride that they have gay friends. But it seems like I'm reduced to being an object, a possession to be proud of acquiring. Does the 'gay' label is necessary for my friendship?

At first I think it's unnecessary, right? Because, I don't need to be constantly labelled as the gay friend. I am who I am, my sexuality don't have to be made clear wherever I go. But at the same time, I feel like there's power in labels too. Like it gives me a safe place to be who I am with my friends, and admitting the deepest part of my emotions - I LIKE GUYS and I AM GAY. It's also a reminder that I'm not alone, being labelled as gay is something powerful too, and so I should learn how to accept it when I hear it from another person, which is rare because whenever I came out, people would noted it but constantly avoid to use the word 'gay'. It's not a bad word, but it seems like people would rather not use it.

I mean, rather than using the word 'gay', many choose to use the term 'PLU' instead back home. People Like Us, a powerful label in my opinion to carry the meaning of being gay and that they are not alone. Either 'gay' or 'PLU', the issue is really about hearing it said to you, especially from a bestfriend. I thought when we came to terms with who we are, that's all there is, but it also means that we have to redefine ourselves to other people. And when people redefine us in that way, would we be okay with it? We want people to know us as who we are, but when it does happens, would they see us differently? Or would we still be the same person as they knew before we came out to them?

For me, I don't know, I'm still figuring out this whole 'I am a gay friend to my bestfriend' or 'I am a friend to my bestfriend' or 'I am a friend who happened to be gay to my bestfriend' or 'I am gay, and I have a bestfriend'. I don't think it's a big deal really, but something just made me feel a bit conscious when my bestfriend said, "I have a gay friend."

I'm not sure whether I make any sense. What do you think?

The Sweetest Boy

A few moments ago, as I was scrolling down my tweet feed, reading through the creative sentences that people come up with in 140 characters, I stopped at a tweet from a person I knew back in school. In that moment, a sudden flashback of memories came in and I was smiling to myself remembering those beautiful instances that the memories hold.

It's not the tweet that pushed me down the memory lane, it's the person, the thought of him. We were in the same boarding school, he was a year older than me. He was a senior and I was a junior. We had a brief undefined relationship back in that days, and I am still unsure of the nature of our connections. The closest I can get to now is friends, and seeing how things unfold in hindsight, I think I'm just gonna stick with this definition. It can be interpreted differently, but it's all in the past, so whatever it is, we had something sweet and that's all that matter.

So a quick description of this person, we have the same name, Brandon, which I think is very sweet, a pleasant coincidence if you like. Our birthdays are also two days apart and we find this really interesting too. He had an average figure, scrawny somewhat, like any other typical teenagers. I stalked him before writing this post, and he still has the same figure telling from his pictures. He's cute, needless to say, babyface actually which I told him back then and he was flattered by it.

The other thing about him is that he's super genius. His specialty was Chemistry, he was the brightest student in the subject, like the top one in the whole school, and he liked Maths too. If we want to play the stereotype game, he's definitely the cute nerd. Challenging Maths problems literally gave him pleasure, which I never understood how one could possibly find pleasure in those 'things' (I made Maths sounds like a foreign gross object, I know).

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I never paid much attention to him to be honest, since we had little in common. Obviously being in different year group made it unnecessary to know one another, then the circle of friends we had were also different. As I blogged here before about my first love (it was the same school and a year later), I was with the divas, so my senior friends were from the same group too and he's obviously not one of them. He hanged out with people who talked about Chemistry, Maths and Physics which I didn't really enjoy so our paths rarely crossed if ever.

However, one day, I was chatting with a friend of mine who was also a senior, and Brandon came to us. As it happened, my friend was in the same class with him and Brandon needed something from him, so out of courtesy my friend introduced us to each other. This happened back in 2008 so I vaguely remember how it went, but I do know that we chatted after my friend left us alone afterwards. I was really enjoying the conversation which I can't remember on what, but we had a good talk, and I think that sparked some attractions in us.

After that, we bumped into each other more often (or perhaps we were more aware of walking passed one another) and talked a bit more. Since living in boarding school, you had to do your prayers in congregation especially for the dusk and night prayers. So we usually talked in between the prayers, as he often came and had a chat with me. There were always some religious lectures in that period too, but we often hanged at the back talking to one another. There was nothing unusual about it, not that I was aware of, I simply liked talking to him and I would like to think that he enjoyed it too. Sometimes I noticed before the prayer started, he would suddenly appeared and had the prayer besides me, so that we could talk afterwards. It goes without saying that I found this very lovely of him, but little did I know that he had so much more nice gestures up his sleeves.

One time, I had lost my Chemistry paper in the school's hall. It was after some exams, mid term I think, and I didn't do well in it. I was really bad in Chemistry back then (I got better the year after), so I didn't really care that much about it. That night, after supper, before I went up to my room, I bumped into him. He said he found my paper, and I immediately felt embarrassed. I knew how good he was in the subject and his reputation of being the only person that ever answered all of the Chemistry questions correctly in an exam made me feel like my stupidity was exposed to the most brilliant person ever. It became more embarrassing when he said he had take a look at it. I mean if you didn't do well in a paper, you obviously don't want anyone to look at it, let alone the one that can see all the mistakes just by flipping through the paper. I struggled with Chemistry and I was really insecure about admitting it back then.

So he gave me the paper, and I instantly took it. He asked me to take a look at the paper that night, I took this as a sign that I needed to study more and I was basically ready to get away from him then. That night I did take a look at my paper, and it was such a shocking moment when I found that he had corrected every single one of my mistakes, with all the calculations, methods and steps written clearly next to each questions. I was surprised, and the only kind of feeling I could describe was "that's so sweet of him." If this is a love story, this is definitely the point where the characters fall in love with one another. I vividly remember his handwriting and the blue pen he used to circle the correct answers in my paper. I was really touched by it. Too bad I still didn't do well in Chemistry later that year lol. When I saw him again and told him how nice of him to do that, he just smiled sheepishly and it was the cutest thing ever.

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And it didn't stop there. Oh no it didn't.

One time I was in the shower, and my friend had called me to say that the head boy was looking for me. I was instantly scared, usually when someone was called by the head boy to his room, they're in big trouble. Boarding school students always find a way to deal things in a way that's very perplexing to me. They sometimes asked the trouble maker to a room, and all the seniors with some authoritative power would deal with that person, sometimes by mere lecture but more often shout-shaming and ragging basically. I knew our head boy was nice, but he was still a serious person, highly disciplined, so I still feel a bit anxious about being called to his room, which was just a few rooms away from mine.

After the shower which I had cut short, I went to the head boy's room, braving myself of whatever it was I was about to face. So I knocked on his door and he invited me in. Then he said with his usual serious face, "Brandon wants to see you," and then I realised that Brandon was in his room too. I was puzzled, in my head I kept thinking "so I wasn't in trouble?". The head boy clearly saw that on my face and said, "I don't know what he wants, or what business the two of you have, but feel free to meet each other." and then walked to his table and continue studying. I was confused. Brandon and the head boy was in the same class so they're definitely good friends. What I didn't know was why he wanted to see me and used his friend. He could've come directly to my room, that should be less awkward, at least for me. Another thing about boarding school culture is, words travel easily, and senior-junior relationship that are out of ordinary can easily become the talk of the school. Perhaps he wanted to avoid this. So we stayed in the room, and turned out he just wanted to talk, and I was flattered again by his gesture seeing him went to great length just to talk to me. That sort of effort should be applauded.

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After the school year ended, I was at home and he had to stay for another month or so for the final graduating exam. During this time, he often phoned me. Back in the days (it was only 2008 but felt like ages) we relied on public phones to make our calls. So I know it's not cheap for him to call me, but he did anyway. We talk for ages. Again I can't remember the details of our many conversations but I know I felt happy receiving his call.

It was lovely to have a friend like him, who never stopped to make me touched by his sweet gestures. I mentioned earlier about the undefined relationship because it seemed like coquetry to me, but at the same time, there's nothing official about it that I think friendship is the best I can get to. Also, being with him made me feel like how having a big brother who's looking after me felt like. I don't have any brothers, and I know siblings can be mean to one another rather than all-loving and sweet, but it's still nice to feel loved in that sense.

In my final year at the school, he graduated but we still kept in touch. Fast forward, he's also studying in Europe but I never thought about him much until just now when I saw his tweets. We were friends on FB of course, and occasionally he would RT my tweets. I felt compelled to check on him again, which meant stalking his FB and Twitter. I thought of reaching out to him after all these years, but it might get awkward. It was such a long time ago. I wonder if he ever felt something, he's certainly cute and I won't mind if we ended up in a relationship truth be told. But in the end, it is what it is and I savour these memories. And don't get me wrong, we did have plenty of conversation and FB chats afterwards, but it's mostly casual and just updating about one another life.

In hindsight though, I could be a better friend. You see, I am such a callous person in any sort of relationship. I don't know how to make friends, I must admit to this. In terms of getting to know people, that comes easily to me, but actually making an effort of keeping a friend, I am never really good at that department. My father once said to me, "you don't know how to be a friend." and he's right about it. I could've kept in touch more with Brandon, and visits him since we're not that far away, but I just forget. People come and go, and I have other friends and other friends afterwards from prep schools, to uni, to being abroad etc etc. I just...I don't know, sometimes we missed out on friendship because there's too much to choose from, but when we finally realised we should keep the one we already have, it might be just a little too late.

Anyhow, it was nice to remember my moments with Brandon. I realise now that I should work on becoming a better friend, so that I won't lose anyone that I have now.

p/s: Sorry if this post is a bit cheesy, but I would like to put them here so that I won't forget about him. New memories are coming in, so I better keep safe the old ones huh :)

Post Midnight Ramble

Perhaps it's best for me to stay for a while longer. So thank you to the commenters of my previous post for the encouragement. It's certainly pleasing to know that there are people who took some joy in reading my posts (hopefully).

For what it's worth, there are some things that I can only share here as a semi-anonymous somewhat elusive blogger that I can't (or more aptly better not) share at some other places. A secret hideout as you would like, for me to find some comfort in sharing these thoughts without having to face the feared consequences of being an open gay Asian.

***

Meanwhile, I have taken some interests in a few different things over the past few weeks, most of which are related to pop culture. In some ways, I have been daydreaming about making a career in one of these phenomena. And all that it was is just that - daydreaming. The kind of fantasy you have thinking about how grand it would be to find a job that associate with fame and glamour. I suppose I am being a little bit nonchalant about my life at the moment, nothing is serious, for weeks and months of planning and scheduling, I think I deserve some breaks to make sense of the world around me first before impulsively pursuing something I later regret.

With that being said, I will be coming home soon. I have mixed feelings about it. Sad and unaccomplished, but eager and excited. I'm not sure which emotion triumph the other but one thing I do know is that I am scared. In all honesty, I'm not ready for home, and admitting that somehow makes me feel arrogant. That I am above all of the people at home, I am better, and so naturally be afraid of them. As much as I keep trying to convince myself that I do not think lowly of my own community, I kept falling back to the sort of subconscious feeling I have about them. I suppose the only way to remedy this thought is to face the very people themselves, and keeping my feet on the ground to appreciate the greatness and excellence of others. Humility is certainly a trait I need to work on, perhaps I am blinded by my frustration about the many wrong things happening in my country. Of course it's not an excuse, but rather a simple explanation of why I am having the thoughts. 

In some other aspects of my life, I am finding my way to be contented with being single. I have not engaged in any form of relationship - emotional or sexual - since August (or July, I can't be sure, but a couple of months definitely). In this fact I find it comforting to tell myself that I can actually start anew about my love life. I plan to stay on that way until I find someone that I can love, I can trust, and that I can be happy with. But in order to do that, I first have to love myself, trust my own heart and be happy in my own skin. Surely I can't expect someone to love me if I don't love myself. So for that reason, I'm starting afresh.

However, I kept getting these dreams where I was either falling in love with someone, or already in a relationship with someone. Just last night I was dreaming about my crush in uni where he weirdly appeared in my study room and offered me some helps to stack on my books on the top shelf. While doing it, he took of his shirt and I was jaw-dropped to find him in the flesh with sweats and body hair. The way this stuck in my head now seems to be a reminder that subconsciously I am longing for a companion. Not only that, a few weeks ago I dreamed about my husband (which is odd because I don't even know how I know this, but in the dream this person is my husband) which is of course non-existent and yet to be determined by real life. That's not only meant I longed for a companionship, it meant I longed for a soul mate.

It's funny really how our minds keep telling us things that we don't want to admit in its own mysterious way. I suppose when one say life is a mystery, this is what they meant by it. Mystery or not, one can only find out by giving oneself a chance to experience life. A lot of these thoughts are really the screams of our inner self, longing to replace the facade we put on to please others and rarely ourselves.

On that note, I am no better than you. And on that note too, I sort of prefer to wallow in those dreams than to pursue it in reality. Plus, it's three am now, I better get some sleep in the hope that I can get one of those subconscious romance dreams again.

So yes I'm staying, and yes this is a ramble of an insomniac. Sorry.

Thinking of Leaving

It's been a while, I know.

A few things happened but there's not much really to say. I'm not sure whether I wanna continue to keep writing in this blog. I'm not leaving blogging entirely, just not here.

Until then, I'm still deciding.

First Love

I don't have anything new to update, so I thought a walking-down-the-memory-lane post would be a nice substitute.

I've only been in a relationship once. It was quite an experience, with its peaks and troughs of emotions. If I remember correctly, our relationship lasted for about 6 months or so. We knew each other two years prior to the relationship, and even though we broke up 6 years ago, we still very much keeping in touch with one another.

Perhaps, it's more apt to call this relationship of mine a high school fling. As the name implies, we were in the same school, the same class in fact. Saif was not a person I would normally fall for, his physical appearance wasn't what people would call my type. He was slim, neatly combed hair, a typical sporty guy, with dark brown complexion. I normally prefer someone quite the opposite of these but fate had it that he would be my first. Saif was nice and gentle, with occasional bad boy character he had on when he's in his pack of jock friends (which just so happened that on one occasion he ignored me when I waved at him for fear of ridicule by his mates).

Our fond of one another didn't happen overnight, but rather a slow realisation that we liked each other after 2 years of acquaintance. High school, as many would probably experienced it, had its own social divide - the prefects, the nerds, the pious, the rich kids, the debaters, the drama club, the teacher's pet, so on and so forth. Saif and I were in different gang, I was the divas and he was obviously the jocks. So our social circle rarely had the chance to overlap, being naturally at the opposite ends of the school social spectrum. But we were in the same class in our final year of schooling, and so that lead us to get to know each other better.

I was an outspoken person, very extroverted and owned the divine gift of divaness in me. People of my sort would normally be bullied but I had a way of making myself likeable by others, and that was by seducing the guys that I know would potentially be a bully. My promiscuity had not always been something for my personal pleasure, but started as a skill to merely survive school. Many closeted gay high schoolers would know how essential it is to have the correct survival skill to go through school. One thing for sure, after school, it does gets better.

Anyhow, flirting with other boys had then become one of my natural characters, even though I wasn't intending to do so. I talked and interacted with other boys in a certain flirtatious way, and it slipped my mind that doing so might send the wrong signal. For what it worth, my strategy worked, I was safe from any sort of bullying minus a few person who secretly hated me, high school then became bearable and a place I can truly be happy and make friends.

This extended to how I interacted with Saif. I remember his sheepish smile when I teasingly caressed his hand, or when I persuaded him to give me a back rub while I pretending to be sleepy, or when I over-exaggerated my reactions to his stories like they were the most interesting things I'd ever heard. With subtle hints of affections, I began to have a soft spot for him. Little did I know that he too began to have the same feeling for me. It was mutual, and I genuinely didn't push the feelings we had. It all bred on its own and I suppose that's the sweet thing about it. I didn't pursue him, nor did he pursue me, but we found each other side by side one fine day and everything seemed beautiful.

The moment we realised that we were inseparable was a memory to be cherished. We had finished with school, and was waiting to go back home. We stayed in hostel that night and laid next to one another. Pillow talk was our thing, that's how we bonded too. As the night progressed, with our chats subdued to the song of the night, we kissed. It was uncalled for, and the both of us were slightly taken aback not knowing what it meant nor how to go forward. But after the kiss, I could see his smile through the moon rays. We cuddled and slept with out hearts tied together that night.

He was then my first kiss, my first boyfriend, and my first of many things, and I was his. Our story was somewhat resembled the typical coming-of-age tale of a gay boy finding meaning of what this all meant. During our short-lived yet highly passionate relationship, we experienced it all. I was happy, and he was too. We visited one another even though we lived at different parts of the country, and talked on the phone for hours till we had to work to earn money for our mobile top up, and we talked and loved each other like the world belonged only to the both of us.

The minute details of what we do would take more than a post, there were so many memories I had with him. Perhaps, I'll cherish those in another posts, one by one if the time allows.

The end of our relationship however was not something I'm proud of. It was me who broke it off, and that broke his heart deeply until this day. I somehow couldn't forgive myself for making him suffer for many years afterwards, but I kept in touch to check on him, making sure that he lived well and went of with his life without me.

It all started because I wanted to start anew. I was selfish of course, not realising that he would be a person I should take on that positive journey. But at the time I was still struggling with my sexuality and identity. I felt that I need to try to be straight and that same-sex relationship would lead to nowhere. Furthermore, we both earned funding to go abroad, but in a different countries. So long distance relationship would be difficult to maintain, even when we were in the same country. In retrospect, I suppose one should fight for one's love. But I was handling too much emotions at the same time, and couldn't bear more than that of my own.

So I called it off, and he was devastated. He begged for another go, but I assured him that it's best if we separated. After all, he wasn't gay to start with, and he didn't turn gay even though he had a relationship with me. He was and is still straight as he comes. Men don't interest him and our situation was different in that it's personal and individual, rather than an attraction to a specific gender. Knowing that I could potentially robbed him of the chances of normal life he could have, I backed off, doing him a favour. Or so I thought.

In many years to come, whenever we found ourself messaging one another, he would remind me of his love. And in those instances, I would ask him to let me go. He then would say he's only joking, but one can easily tell when a joke or a genuine confession was made. It ached me deeply that I had ruined a person's heart.

Since we're both abroad, summer was the only time we could meet. And every time we met, we would have passionate ex-boyfriend sex. It didn't really help our emotions to be honest, especially for him, but sex with him was different, it truly meant something. With others, it was purely physical. Until now, he only had sex with me, and I on the other hand couldn't keep track of how much guys I've slept with. I couldn't resist to have a go with Saif every summer, because the once slim boy I knew at school has now turned into a muscular dark skinned hunk. It certainly add to the pleasure, but without his muscular physique, I still loved him, and I cared for him. I still do until today, but as a friend.

He was waiting for me to come back this year as originally planned, but I haven't told him yet of the changes. There's a plan for us to stay together when I come home since he's also an unemployed fresh grad, but I suppose that plan might not come true. The last time we texted, it was a couple of weeks ago, and I finally got to hear what I wanted to, that he would try to let me go. Of course that doesn't mean we couldn't be friend, or stay together as a matter of fact. But at least, emotionally he would be free to look for his girl, and I on the other hand has made the choice to be true to myself and wait for another love to grow, just how it happened with Saif and I.

Waiting for a love that was not pushed nor pursued, but an authentic desire to be together.