A Puppy In A Pit Of Tennis Balls
Hello all,
I’m not exactly sure how to write this
post. Usually, I’m writing about depressing things and that’s easy for me. This
week, however, I’m happy, happier than I’ve ever been before and like all
things new it’s a little terrifying to start out with before it becomes more
exciting than you could ever describe.
You see, this week I’ve been texting the boy I drunkenly kissed (as last week’s post was about). It began on Tuesday. I was having a lot of trouble with this essay as the readings were incredibly boring (which was odd considering that they were about feminism, fairy tales and sado-masochism) and I was feeling like giving up. I couldn’t really think about the essay because I was focussing on the events of the night before (where he had told me that he wanted the relationship to start from the start. I said I’d like that. My head spun and I may have skipped down the driveway), and I knew I wasn’t going to get any work done this way. So I made myself a promise. If I finish one of the two assignments I had due that week, then I could text him. I finished the script-writing assignment in record time, and I’m fairly sure it’s one of the better pieces of writing I’ve done.
So, as soon as the assignment was done, I sent him a text message. And then it began. We texted one another from 4-10 that night. The next day, he also inspired me to finish the other essay (‘not all things can be fun’) and rush it to the library to upload it with less than 20 minutes to spare. That night, I ran out of credit and desperately bought more the following day.
In fact, it was the next day that I got a timely reminder about the progression of this relationship from one of my friends. He told me that I was becoming obsessed with him. Sorry, this is too hard, not referring to his name, so I’ll just use a pseudonym. Some of you may remember how in the ‘Beautiful Boy Tango’ post I referred to a story that was like a fictionalised diary with all these false names for my friends and family. He’s called Finn there, which will work just as well here. Anyway, my friend suggested that I was becoming too obsessed with Finn. I was reminded of something one of my other friends had said to me earlier in the week that dating someone is like sitting down on your bed and spinning your arms around. If you don’t have something to anchor you down, to hold onto, then you’re going to fall over and lose yourself in it. So, since then, I’ve actively tried to control the obsession. I don’t spend all day thinking about Finn, just those times when he’s texting or calling me. But the joy he brings me finds it’s way into every aspect of my life.
I once tried to explain this happiness to him in a text, using this terrible metaphor; ‘it’s like a Unicorn jumping through a rainbow on the most summery day ever’. Yes, I know how bad this is. Fin texted me back with another, far better, more accurate metaphor. ‘It feels like a puppy in a pit of tennis balls’. The sheer, unexplainable joy, that wonderful feeling that you just can’t explain. It’s the single most perfect metaphor for what I’m feeling right now.
But, there are times when I still can’t help but feel that this isn’t real. On Saturday, I was worried because I hadn’t texted him that day and had no credit. I was concerned that he’d hate me or forgotten me or something just as horrible. Yes, I’m a nervous, panicky wreck sometimes, but I’m new at this. And then, as I was watching Lady And The Tramp, he texted me and said ‘hello, I didn’t forget about you, don’t worry.’ He knew. I don’t know how, but he knew, and I may have got a bit teary. Because he already knew me so well. That’s something that happens in the crappy romantic movies that I watch. It doesn’t happen in real life. But it did and it was wonderful. The most wonderful thing I’d ever felt. It still makes me a little bit happy teary now.
Earlier in the week, he’d asked me out on a date. I looked at my wardrobe and realised that I had literally nothing that was date friendly, so I went down to the shops. On Easter Saturday. It was busy, so busy, but I was able to get a great pair of jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt. There was only a good jumper left. So, I made my way down to Jay Jays, which sells these wonderful licensed jumpers for men and women. I looked at the men’s ones, dismissed them as plain, boring and not to my taste at all and moved on to the women’s section which had a far greater variety of jumpers that I would be interested in. So, I was trying all these ones on, reflecting which one’s would suit the outfit when this woman came over to me and said, ‘excuse me, but we might have some jumpers in men’s which might suit you better.’ I was gobsmacked. How rude can you be? I wanted to say well, I like these and you can shove your gender expectations up your arse. I didn’t. Instead, I said I’m fine, thank you and continued to try on the jumpers (which weren’t actually all that feminine. There was a Mickey hoodie and an Elmo jumper which said Hug Me). The shop assistant slinked off, while mum fumed. She said it was rude and that it wasn’t wrong for me to try on these jumpers and that if she’d been a different person she’d have told her what for. This also filled me with the weirdest sort of joy. I’d often wondered how inclusive my mother was, how happy she was with my gay lifestyle and my interest in (let’s be honest, here) things that would be classified by society as typically girly. But, in that moment, she was willing to defend me. I knew it wasn’t just a showing for me. She was genuinely annoyed at the staff and this, to me, was ground breaking. Later, when we got home and my brother and father said that the Jay Jays assistant had a point, she stood up for me again. This matters. This matters a lot.
In several years time, I’ll look back on Monday, my first date, and remember what I wore. Denim jeans, new dark blue sneakers, a tight-fitting blue sporty t-shirt and my Mickey hoodie and remember how wonderful that day was. From him complimenting on my hair (despite it being a complete fail. I tried to do it like I’d mentioned earlier, and it just refused to do it), taking me to Nando’s (which I’d never been to before) and watching as I struggled not to die from having too much spicy food (and not thinking my rib fear was weird), walking around Knox and unable to hide my grin at his sheer joy at seeing the dogs in the pet store, getting a white hot chocolate from the chocolate lounge, meeting his parents (who were nice, thankfully. I was so nervous, but they made me feel comfortable), marvelling at his dual computer screen set-up, before he introduced me to several new youtube drag queens and gay vloggers. Having pumpkin and fetta ravioli at his place while watching Zoella’s brother being shocked by this strange ball. But the best bit of the night came at the end.
Watching my favourite Lush video (Boyfriend Tag), I laid my head on his
shoulder. We grew closer, until I was hugging him, my head hearing the beating
of his heart, my hands feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Everything else
faded away. Sound didn’t mean anything anymore, only his voice and the warmth
of his body. It was a moment of nothingness and yet I never wanted it to end.
It was the most serene, beautiful feeling I’ve ever felt. It’s indescribable
how truly perfect that moment was. One day, I’ll look back on my life and
remember that moment. The one moment where all of my worries, all of the
concern that this was a dream just faded away and it all became real.
I had to go home after that, sadly, but not before the kiss, which I’m not going to talk about. Certain things must remain a mystery. I’ll only say it was amazing.
Then, he drove me home and kissed me goodnight, and I fell asleep, feeling happier than I ever have before.
Flashback to December last year. I was feeling down, and I wrote one paragraph which has stuck with me ever since, because it’s the truest thing I’ve ever written. I wrote;
"One day, I'd like to wake up and be happy and be happy all day. There wouldn't be a moment where I got so sad that I feared I would never get out. And I'd go to bed and I'd look back on that day and say, 'yeah, that was a good day.' The day I wouldn't feel like crying. Not once. That's my greatest wish. That, for once, I could be happy."
It was all I wanted. My greatest and only wish because it was something that I thought would never happen to me. I’ve spent so long being shy and cynical that I came to believe that it was the only thing I could feel. But this week has proved that all so wrong.
Only a few weeks ago, I wrote the depressing post, where I said all these terrible things about myself. But I was wrong.
I do have a personality. I do have interests. I do take other people’s interests, but use them to expand my knowledge. I don’t know who I am, because I am always changing. I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what I’m going to do with my future, but I am young and I have time. I have a future, even if it isn’t with my writing. My writing is not terrible. It’s not great, but it’s going to get better. I just have to keep working on it. I am not wasting my time, this is what I was born to do. Someone wants me. I am attractive. I am cute. I have everything to offer. I have everything to give. I am worthy. I have no gaydar, but I will learn. I won’t always just be the guy who crushes on the straight boy. I can talk to people. I am not stupid. I am not a caricature. My man wants me. My friends like me. They are not just humouring me. I am not nothing. I am worthy. I am happy.
Basically, I’m happier than a puppy in a pit of tennis balls.
See you next week.
False Alarms (Josh Groban)
Falling Fast (Avril Lavigne)
Love You Like A Love Song (Selena Gomez)
Accidentally In Love (Counting Crows)
Hey Soul Sister (Train)
Bubbly (Colbie Caillat)
Pure Imagination (from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory)
The Way Way Back
9
John Dies At The End
Sector 7*
*Because of dating and texting joy, I only viewed five films this week
T hanks,
You see, this week I’ve been texting the boy I drunkenly kissed (as last week’s post was about). It began on Tuesday. I was having a lot of trouble with this essay as the readings were incredibly boring (which was odd considering that they were about feminism, fairy tales and sado-masochism) and I was feeling like giving up. I couldn’t really think about the essay because I was focussing on the events of the night before (where he had told me that he wanted the relationship to start from the start. I said I’d like that. My head spun and I may have skipped down the driveway), and I knew I wasn’t going to get any work done this way. So I made myself a promise. If I finish one of the two assignments I had due that week, then I could text him. I finished the script-writing assignment in record time, and I’m fairly sure it’s one of the better pieces of writing I’ve done.
So, as soon as the assignment was done, I sent him a text message. And then it began. We texted one another from 4-10 that night. The next day, he also inspired me to finish the other essay (‘not all things can be fun’) and rush it to the library to upload it with less than 20 minutes to spare. That night, I ran out of credit and desperately bought more the following day.
In fact, it was the next day that I got a timely reminder about the progression of this relationship from one of my friends. He told me that I was becoming obsessed with him. Sorry, this is too hard, not referring to his name, so I’ll just use a pseudonym. Some of you may remember how in the ‘Beautiful Boy Tango’ post I referred to a story that was like a fictionalised diary with all these false names for my friends and family. He’s called Finn there, which will work just as well here. Anyway, my friend suggested that I was becoming too obsessed with Finn. I was reminded of something one of my other friends had said to me earlier in the week that dating someone is like sitting down on your bed and spinning your arms around. If you don’t have something to anchor you down, to hold onto, then you’re going to fall over and lose yourself in it. So, since then, I’ve actively tried to control the obsession. I don’t spend all day thinking about Finn, just those times when he’s texting or calling me. But the joy he brings me finds it’s way into every aspect of my life.
I once tried to explain this happiness to him in a text, using this terrible metaphor; ‘it’s like a Unicorn jumping through a rainbow on the most summery day ever’. Yes, I know how bad this is. Fin texted me back with another, far better, more accurate metaphor. ‘It feels like a puppy in a pit of tennis balls’. The sheer, unexplainable joy, that wonderful feeling that you just can’t explain. It’s the single most perfect metaphor for what I’m feeling right now.
But, there are times when I still can’t help but feel that this isn’t real. On Saturday, I was worried because I hadn’t texted him that day and had no credit. I was concerned that he’d hate me or forgotten me or something just as horrible. Yes, I’m a nervous, panicky wreck sometimes, but I’m new at this. And then, as I was watching Lady And The Tramp, he texted me and said ‘hello, I didn’t forget about you, don’t worry.’ He knew. I don’t know how, but he knew, and I may have got a bit teary. Because he already knew me so well. That’s something that happens in the crappy romantic movies that I watch. It doesn’t happen in real life. But it did and it was wonderful. The most wonderful thing I’d ever felt. It still makes me a little bit happy teary now.
Earlier in the week, he’d asked me out on a date. I looked at my wardrobe and realised that I had literally nothing that was date friendly, so I went down to the shops. On Easter Saturday. It was busy, so busy, but I was able to get a great pair of jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt. There was only a good jumper left. So, I made my way down to Jay Jays, which sells these wonderful licensed jumpers for men and women. I looked at the men’s ones, dismissed them as plain, boring and not to my taste at all and moved on to the women’s section which had a far greater variety of jumpers that I would be interested in. So, I was trying all these ones on, reflecting which one’s would suit the outfit when this woman came over to me and said, ‘excuse me, but we might have some jumpers in men’s which might suit you better.’ I was gobsmacked. How rude can you be? I wanted to say well, I like these and you can shove your gender expectations up your arse. I didn’t. Instead, I said I’m fine, thank you and continued to try on the jumpers (which weren’t actually all that feminine. There was a Mickey hoodie and an Elmo jumper which said Hug Me). The shop assistant slinked off, while mum fumed. She said it was rude and that it wasn’t wrong for me to try on these jumpers and that if she’d been a different person she’d have told her what for. This also filled me with the weirdest sort of joy. I’d often wondered how inclusive my mother was, how happy she was with my gay lifestyle and my interest in (let’s be honest, here) things that would be classified by society as typically girly. But, in that moment, she was willing to defend me. I knew it wasn’t just a showing for me. She was genuinely annoyed at the staff and this, to me, was ground breaking. Later, when we got home and my brother and father said that the Jay Jays assistant had a point, she stood up for me again. This matters. This matters a lot.
In several years time, I’ll look back on Monday, my first date, and remember what I wore. Denim jeans, new dark blue sneakers, a tight-fitting blue sporty t-shirt and my Mickey hoodie and remember how wonderful that day was. From him complimenting on my hair (despite it being a complete fail. I tried to do it like I’d mentioned earlier, and it just refused to do it), taking me to Nando’s (which I’d never been to before) and watching as I struggled not to die from having too much spicy food (and not thinking my rib fear was weird), walking around Knox and unable to hide my grin at his sheer joy at seeing the dogs in the pet store, getting a white hot chocolate from the chocolate lounge, meeting his parents (who were nice, thankfully. I was so nervous, but they made me feel comfortable), marvelling at his dual computer screen set-up, before he introduced me to several new youtube drag queens and gay vloggers. Having pumpkin and fetta ravioli at his place while watching Zoella’s brother being shocked by this strange ball. But the best bit of the night came at the end.
Watching my favourite Lush video (Boyfriend Tag), I laid my head on his
shoulder. We grew closer, until I was hugging him, my head hearing the beating
of his heart, my hands feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Everything else
faded away. Sound didn’t mean anything anymore, only his voice and the warmth
of his body. It was a moment of nothingness and yet I never wanted it to end.
It was the most serene, beautiful feeling I’ve ever felt. It’s indescribable
how truly perfect that moment was. One day, I’ll look back on my life and
remember that moment. The one moment where all of my worries, all of the
concern that this was a dream just faded away and it all became real.I had to go home after that, sadly, but not before the kiss, which I’m not going to talk about. Certain things must remain a mystery. I’ll only say it was amazing.
Then, he drove me home and kissed me goodnight, and I fell asleep, feeling happier than I ever have before.
Flashback to December last year. I was feeling down, and I wrote one paragraph which has stuck with me ever since, because it’s the truest thing I’ve ever written. I wrote;
"One day, I'd like to wake up and be happy and be happy all day. There wouldn't be a moment where I got so sad that I feared I would never get out. And I'd go to bed and I'd look back on that day and say, 'yeah, that was a good day.' The day I wouldn't feel like crying. Not once. That's my greatest wish. That, for once, I could be happy."
It was all I wanted. My greatest and only wish because it was something that I thought would never happen to me. I’ve spent so long being shy and cynical that I came to believe that it was the only thing I could feel. But this week has proved that all so wrong.
Only a few weeks ago, I wrote the depressing post, where I said all these terrible things about myself. But I was wrong.
I do have a personality. I do have interests. I do take other people’s interests, but use them to expand my knowledge. I don’t know who I am, because I am always changing. I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what I’m going to do with my future, but I am young and I have time. I have a future, even if it isn’t with my writing. My writing is not terrible. It’s not great, but it’s going to get better. I just have to keep working on it. I am not wasting my time, this is what I was born to do. Someone wants me. I am attractive. I am cute. I have everything to offer. I have everything to give. I am worthy. I have no gaydar, but I will learn. I won’t always just be the guy who crushes on the straight boy. I can talk to people. I am not stupid. I am not a caricature. My man wants me. My friends like me. They are not just humouring me. I am not nothing. I am worthy. I am happy.
Basically, I’m happier than a puppy in a pit of tennis balls.
See you next week.
The
Playlist Of 16 Apr – 22 Apr
The Final Cut (Pink Floyd)False Alarms (Josh Groban)
Falling Fast (Avril Lavigne)
Love You Like A Love Song (Selena Gomez)
Accidentally In Love (Counting Crows)
Hey Soul Sister (Train)
Bubbly (Colbie Caillat)
Pure Imagination (from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory)
The
Top 5 Films Of 16 Apr – 22 Apr
Lady And The TrampThe Way Way Back
9
John Dies At The End
Sector 7*
*Because of dating and texting joy, I only viewed five films this week
I just asdfghjkl! <3 So happy for you right now.
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