2010s – why I’ll miss them

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With only 16 days lef tin this decade, I’ve started to feel more turbulent emotions of how I feel that a huge new chapter is opening in my constantly growing and exhausting life. I don’t mean to say that I have it terribly hard but the last year in particular was much heavier than those that preceded it.

I’m in a boarding school and I’ve tried talking to my roommate about what it feels like to leave this decade, and that’s where we seem to have horrifically differing opinions on what it should mean to us. For him, he doesn’t seem to care very much and that kind of makes me upset. I’m 16 and he’s 17, and I can’t see why he doesn’t see the significance of this decade to us and our generation. It was the 2010s that we began to become who we are today. Before 6 years old I seriously didn’t know anything, other than to walk, talk and sleep. Admittedly I was probably behind most children as it took me until I was seven to learn the months of the year (I was preocupied watching Ben 10 and such other things obviously). This was the decade I began my “serious” education, I began to form my own concious, no longer completely following all my parents and superior’s orders or rules. I questioned authority and really thought about things. This was both good and bad but in the end made me who I am. My last year without a doubt was definetly the one in which I truly became who I am. Up until I was fifteen I had probably grown as a person by 50% and the other 50% was from this last year. I had my GCSEs, I made most of my friends, I embraced my true identity and accepted my suppressed sexuality after so many years and then came out. This academic year I’ve started the works of making LGBTQ+ members of my school more empowered and less afraid, though there still is a lot to do. All I can say is that at the beginning of September last year, I could not have possibly imagined how much my life would have evolved and it makes me both nostalgic and on the verge of tears as I think back to the days of me trying to be someone who was not really me.

Enough on me, I imagine that a lot will have changed for older people on this planet. Some would have gotten married and had kids in this single decade. People have been crossing the globe in a constant fret, so many people that are to dictate the future were born, whilst so many also have moved on to whatever comes after this life. I don’t really know how I feel about a new decade where I am actually concious and thinking, “wow, a new decade”, but I believe it’s something between sadness, regret and a spark of happiness and hope for an even brighter future.

I really hope everyone has enjoyed the last decade as I did for the most part and it’s times like this that make you really think about life I believe. I’m sure you may have regrets about the last decade but also can look back at the good times too.

I think I should probably stop this ramble, whislt I still am somewhat emotionally intact, but thank everyone for the average, crap, mediocre, amazing, fantastic, trash, fab and something of a decade, and wish you the best for 2020.

Love,

John.

how it feels, a year later

Just over a week ago, I wrote a post on the “one year anniversary” of me accepting/realising that I was gay. On that day I rewatched the movie that changed my life, Alex Strangelove. On the eleventh of November in 2018, on a Sunday night, I watched that movie and was absolutely hysterical by the end. I will admit, rewatching it a year later, the film no longer had the same impact on me, but I think that’s just because know I’ve known for so long now and since “being gay” I have binged on all types of media depicting gay relationships, the movie being the first. I will also admit that (spoilers incoming) in the end, when Alex grabs Elliott’s wrist and pulls him in to a kiss, that’s got to be one of the best gay kiss scenes I have ever watched.

Now, less on then and more on now. When I wrote the other post, I don’t think I really felt the difference, but this afternoon, whilst doing some art and listening to music, I got lost in my thoughts and this came to mind upon looking at the time on my phone, of which the wallpaper showed the date of the one year anniversary (so I didn’t forget, because, yes I am kind of stupid). I thought about how t didn’t seem like a big deal but then I thought deeper, “Just over a year ago, I thought I was going to fall in love and marry a woman,” and then I looked at my hands, “I thought I wanted to hungrily grasp the body of, not a man, but a woman with these hands.” (Geez, John, getting a bit graphic there, perhaps?). I was completely dumbfounded, my life was massively changed by the simple acceptance of my sexuality and of course, I’ve known and stated this before, but for a while that spark of excitement and happiness had been absent. I think of how I tried to look at women and think, I like that, and how now I naturally check out guys who peak my interest. Thinking harder about this, I remember feeling that I was never going to be normal because for some reason I didn’t enjoy checking out people of the other gender (or any gender for that matter at that point in time) like those around me. I remember being so annoyed that I didn’t seem to be crushing on anyone like the rest of the people in my school, that I was a total outsider. I remember I boy two years above me in my boarding house who was openly gay, when I was thirteen and thinking, wait? and then ignoring that question and joining the other boys in saying homophobic slurs and stereotypes behind his back, though secretly wondering about talking to him. I remember being repulsed by the thought of boys wearing makeup or jewelry and now I feel so much better with these things on me (I’m not crazy with makeup, but I do like a bit of eyeliner). Everything is different and for the better, I am a better person, and finally understand myself and what I am and I look forward to the date that marks my “one year being openly gay” and when I get my first boyfriend, not girlfriend which I thought it would be for so many years.

I hope that anyone in or out of the closet or just straight can read this and feel happy. Knowing myself and then being myself for the first time in 15 years was incredible and unfortunately I had to live those first 15 years as a watered-down version of myself but now I am really me. Thanks for reading ๐Ÿ™‚

Love, John.

one of my biggest regrets

Having no idea what I wanted to talk about in today’s blog post, I did the most obvious thing to do in such a situation; I went to the internet for help. I hardly even had to look for an idea, as one of the first search results was: tell a secret about yourself. So keep in mind that between searching for ideas and beginning writing this post there was probably a pause of about half a minute, in which I had to decide which secret I was going to share today with a bunch of people I don’t know. That’s probably what makes this easier, since the secret I’m deciding to tell, I’ve only told 3 people ever and I’ve had it for almost 10 years now. Before I get started, I would like to say that this is definitely not as intense and serious as some secrets can go, but it made quite the impact on my life.

In early 2010, a couple months before my seventh birthday, my family finally moved from Russia after a 6 year posting there due to my parent’s job. I’ve moved around quite a lot since and a bit before, but what made this slightly unusual was that it wasn’t during the summer so it was in the middle of my last school term. Normally the company that my parent works for schedules the moves/transfers inbetween academic years or terms, but this time it wasn’t the case. Having moved to the island of Borneo, I finished my academic year about 2 months later. Here’s where my memory becomes a little foggy, it was either during the summer after the move or we may have been moving during a school holiday, but either way, we were in my parent’s home country and I did one of the stuppidest things in my life ever (other than probably slicing my leg open, but that’s a story for another day). My father used to wear glasses and now my mother does and at the age of just under seven years old, I decided I wanted glasses, even though I didn’t need them. Yep, that’s the secret. Now before you leave this article, please just hear me out. So, some people naturally have bad eye sight and therefore need glasses to correct the way that it recieves light (through refraction) in order to sharpen your vision since your eyes basically aren’t correctly calibrated to receive light. If your eyes are fine then that’s perfect, but if you suddenly start wearing glasses with a real perscription, your eyes will start to change in order to see clearly again whilst you have your glasses on. This then means that without your glasses you can no longer see clearly anymore. That’s what happened to me; I lied about needing glasses and now I can’t see without them. Whether or not I would have needed glasses in the future, I don’t know and that’s what haunts me, essentially, it is possible that I purposely wrecked my eye sight, yay.

Well, that’s my secret, and I hope you enjoyed it, if not I am terribly sorry. See you next time, and remember you can ask or even suggest possible posts for the future as I will accept them with wide arms.

Love, John.

kissing boys

– QUICK DISCLAIMER: John has never kissed anyone, boy or girl (before he knew). This post should not be taken as an accurate description of what a kiss is but merely a simple yet effective method that John uses to vent his pent-up emotions and fantasies (don’t be dirty…) –

Before I start this post, I’d like to say that I have already written this post before, but it disappeared without a trace ๐Ÿ˜ฆ I believe that I lost quite a bit of good material, however I will take it as a sign from the universe not to go off on a tangent about legal sex ages and average loss of virginity ages in the UK.

Now, as another normal boy, I spend my fair share of time imagining situations both sexual and mild. The trade-off between me and others is most likely the difference in the gender of the person I imagine doing these things with. I am no closer to getting a boyfriend than even before I realised I was gay, and currently, I don’t know how I feel about that; I guess I just feel unlucky that there doesn’t seem to be a larger range of people in my school who’d be interested in dating me and vice versa. This doesn’t stop me from imagining my first kiss with Mr Right. I watch a lot of movies, but I’m not a sucker, very few actually give an accurate depiction of what a first kiss is like: weird, uncomfortable and probably awkward. I typically like to imagine kisses in a relationship which, I would hope, would be less messy and more romantic and nice. For example, a kiss in the morning when you first see each other, small, simple but probably amazing or a kiss before some other activities in the bedroom, like jumping on the bed and playing Jenga on a mattress ๐Ÿ˜‰ these kisses would be energetic, full and powerful. Honestly, most of the time I don’t really care how good a kiss is, but rather just hope that I get a boyfriend soon because sometimes I am lonely, and sadly that is because I’m gay. I’m not saying that it is super easy for straight people to find a partner but it’s definitely easier than for non-heterosexuals, especially in boarding schools where we can’t really use devices like dating apps, which as I gather would be the easiest way to find a partner, though isn’t particularly the way I’d like to meet the love of my life.

Anyway, this was a pretty random post but I hope you enjoyed it. Please make sure to share this with others if you feel like it.

Love, John.

perceptions on being gay

Before I start on what I am about to say, a quick disclaimer: I’ve only really accepted that I was gay about 7 months ago and have been out for 3 months, so I won’t pretend that I am a full grown gay veteran who’s been through all of it. I haven’t. Surprisingly the largest amount of homophobia I have encountered, so far, was during school from a classmate who told me I was gross the day after I came out. I’m not even sure if that was because of my updated sexual orientation status or because I was cramming cheese puffs by the handful in to my mouth…

With this considered, I think that I am extremely lucky to be in an environment where it is not only safe to be gay, but accepted (by almost everyone).

I haven’t been writing recently in my blog because I’ve just had my GCSEs (basically very important British exams students take when they’re 15/16). Luckily, my last exam is tomorrow, after which I get to leave school two weeks earlier than the rest for summer break. Anyway, back to the topic of this post: perceptions on being gay.

Ever since I accepted that I was gay, it became increasingly obvious to myself how my perception on being gay had basically done a u-turn from “it’s probably just a phase” to “I am genuinely happy that I’m gay, and it doesn’t matter that I am.” Before the night of my final acceptance I was actively checking out guys, and this is going to sound weird but I did it because I thought that somehow acting on my homosexual impulses would release all the urges so that I could finally be normal.

When I was twelve, around the time that I started “becoming a man” I had begun to notice that, although I knew the way the other boys were talking about girls was exaggerated, I wasn’t like them. It was like they knew something that I didn’t and it hurt to feel so excluded. Now I tried to find this “missing piece” that held me back from being like the other boys; I chose a girl in my school and said I liked her. I was pretty stupid. She ended up becoming my best friend for a while and I felt empty when she wasn’t around. I thought I had finally become a normal boy, because I was obsessed with a girl.

I’m not really sure if that’s relevant to the point I’m trying to get across, but basically what I’m trying to say is that now, I would never try to do that and I think that has something to do with being open about myself to myself, if that makes sense. To put it simply: before I accepted myself, I pushed myself to like girls and now that I have accepted myself I would be repulsed by the idea of it. Basically my perception on being gay had changed upon accepting being gay and for some reason that really intrigues me.

Quick side note – when I say “accept myself” though I do accept myself being gay, I more mean that it was the moment that I no longer dismissed it as a phase or told myself that I didn’t like boys. It was like a sudden jerk into reality that I was in fact a homosexual.

Let’s get back on track. I know that a part of it could be that I have to change my perception on being gay before I can truly accept myself, yet I’ve heard of so many people who obviously have had their “jerk in to reality” on being gay and still not being okay with it or accepting of others. Why is there a sudden change in perception? Is it because we’re now in the long haul and may as well stop resisting the currents of change? (I know, great metaphor) Why can one day someone be mortified by the possibility of being gay and the next be entranced by it. This was the case for me atleast.

Why do we fear being possibly gay when we aren’t sure and love it when we are sure? I’m not complaining, but I don’t understand the mental shift that we can go through so quickly upon an event that changes our lives such as the “jerk to reality” in discovering our homosexual orientation.

When I try head around it

I hope this wasn’t a complete waste of time for you like it might have been for me with an exam tomorrow after all. Maybe I’m just a dumb simpleton but for me this begs the question of why is there even a shift in perception, because really there shouldn’t be. It 2019 for heaven’s sake! It shouldn’t matter whether your gay, trans, lesbian, straight, pan or anything else, so why are so many people (myself included) afraid to come out to a modern and accepting community (in those countries where this actually applies). Thinking about this right now, when I am tired and totally not ready for an exam tomorrow morning makes me really angry and deeply upset. Is it because even in today’s modern accepting community, hints of internalised homophobia lurk around the corners of our streets tucked out of our view yet still present and haunting. I’m not going to say anymore because I’ve reached the point where I probably need to do more research and analysing of stuff in order to not make an even larger moron of myself than I already have.

Thank you for reading, I wish it was somewhat entertaining on your behalf.

That Boy.

procrastination

As I’ve mentioned before on a previous post, I am terrible at doing revision. A good example to help elaborate how bad my problem is that in less than a month I have my first GCSE exam and I am currently sitting in my father’s office with all my books in front of me, writing about how to not do revision. Now that you know that reading this is probably not in your best interest, continue reading.

  1. Start a blog

If you’re still reading, then my first idea on how to procrastinate is to start a blog and just write about whatever comes to mind. I’ve written almost all of my blog posts during “study” sessions as I simply find it more interesting to write about myself or things that I am thinking than reading textbooks, taking notes and doing tests. I understand that this isn’t a perfect solution for everyone since it still does involve you requiring some mental capacity, but it works for me.

2. Watch Something

This has got to be the most obvious option available to you if you’re revising in a closed environment like your room. You can watch anything whether it be on YouTube, dailymotion or Netflix. My personal favourite is starting a tv series in the middle of a revision session because once I’ve started I won’t stop till it’s finished. YouTube is good if you’re looking for something short or funny; my personal favourite is watching FailArmy or vines. If this is your option though, you must become adept at using keyboard shortcuts for switching/closing tabs and making sure you don’t look like a frantic monkey in the process.

3. Read About Something Actually Interesting

Like the blogging idea, this isn’t something that will tickle everyone’s fancy. I do actually enjoy reading (I know I’m a weirdo), just not plain facts from a textbook that I have to remember. For me, I might read an action/fantasy or romance novel. Strangely enough, reading “She jumped from a cliff, catapulting herself forwards towards the hovering blimp. Knives in each hand, she stretches her arms out and the blades lock themselves into the hard balloon,” keeps me more interested and involved than “In an experiment, comparing temperature against pressure for a fixed volume, we can see a proportional relationship.”

4. Doodle

This is probably the most common way I enjoy to procrastinate during lessons. In lessons you may find some difficulty in being able to watch a video or write an electronic blog when you’re only being provided a pen and paper. I found that the best technique in being able to accomplish procrastination is through using these tools to release your inner emotions and thoughts. This doesn’t particularly have to be through doodling since you can also scribble or even do origami if that helps you. Should you do this during lessons and you have an attentive teacher who likes to stalk the classroom, make sure that you have an extra piece of paper to hide your art when they come around, not that they should be suspicious since it does look like you’re writing.

I’m not going to say that I hope this was useful to read, because really, it’s the opposite. If this was enjoying to read though, make sure to read my other posts and give the post a like. You can follow me on Instagram @anothernormalboy.

my coming out pt.2

So just over 4 months ago I, John the (now) openly gay teenager, started this blog having finally accepted my sexuality. Wanting to scream to the world about my new self, I started writing a blog talking about it and my life. My second ever post that I made was titled “my coming out“, and in it I talked briefly about how I had started coming out to myself and my friends, but was unable to say anymore because there was nothing more to say since it had only been a few weeks. If you’ve read my other posts recently, then you will know that just over a month ago I outed myself through and Instagram post to all my friends and family. Right now I want to talk about my experience in order so that those still in the closet can find some comfort. This is in no way a justification that coming out is the best thing to do for everyone, because different people are brought up in different communities and with different beliefs. For me I was lucky and privileged to have been brought up in a community that it mostly accepting of gay people and in my past experience I really enjoyed being able to read about others coming out, because in my opinion it is truly a happy moment when one can finally accept themselves for who they are and those around them can do the same.

I previously talked about coming out to my friends and by the end of January, I had set myself a personal challenge of coming out to at least a person a day (keep in mind that my school has around 150 students per year). By doing this, I had finally accomplished being able to say “I am gay” in one quick easy sentence. No straining nor hesitation in saying the word “gay”. Now by the end of February I had come out to all of my friends and if I’m being perfectly honest, I was becoming happier. There was no longer awkward talks about “hot girls” and I was getting closer to a lot of my friends. I’m not exactly sure what took me over on the second of March in the year 2019. I was possibly on a happiness high, but I was sitting behind my computer watching youtube videos when I had the sudden craving to use Instagram. I had an account, but never posted anything. In my mind it was somewhat symbolic: a first post starting a new chapter in my life. So I did it, I thought about the right way to do it for 40 minutes and finally stuck to a completely random photo with a caption saying that I was no longer in the closet. Honestly, you’d be surprised how many followers you can gain in one day when you’re the first to publicly come out in your year.

In the end, everyone was incredibly supportive and my own aunt beat me to the chase of coming out to my parents ๐Ÿ˜‚. This was an amazing experience for me and I don’t regret it, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe and brilliant for everyone to do so. I read this in another posting, I forget its name, but only you know when it’s safe and okay for you to come out, no one else can make that decision for you and you cannot take someone else’s story as incentive for you to do it yourself. Trust me when I say this though, you will know when the time is right ๐Ÿ˜

a short story

This post is completely non-fiction, this isn’t based off of my own life experiences (I don’t have many), it is simply me writing creatively about a boy called Evan I have created. A quick warning however as this is a happy gay romance short story, I’m sick of reading or watching stories about gay couples who never make it.

I glanced across the immense lawn, scarred from the trampling of hundreds of uniformed students and their hard-soled shoes. Not twenty metres away, a flock of girls and boys encompassed a year 11 boy, my age, whom had a startled and almost angry expression across his face. Chris’ hair was tousled and unkempt, thick dark-brown hair. His face was long and tanned, his chiseled jawline held up his neat mouth and lips and perfect nose. Soft brown eyes matched his hair, giving a mesmerising effect which I would happily look at endlessly. I was staring. Suddenly, he was looking right back at me with a puzzled face. My heart skips a beat and blood flushes my cheeks as I whip my head back forwards; I tuck my books to my chest and briskly walk away as fast as looks normal. I’m unaware that he watches me until I melt into the ever growing crowd of students headed for the morning’s first lesson.

Three lessons later, I have Jake and Lily by my side babbling about our latest Chemistry assignment. Subconsciously we’ve been making our way to the centre of our school, the middle of the town it’s found in.

“Co Tes?” I question, suspending their argument, it’s our name for Tescos. Casually, both nod and leave their different opinions with their books as we set them down and continue to the exit of the building. I extend my arm to push the door open but instead find my palm firmly pressed against a chest. I look up from my hand and it’s him. Chris gives me a confused look as I remain completely still, frozen on the spot.

“Hi,” he says, even his voice is amazing. I open my mouth stupidly, but stay speechless until Jake pulls my arm down and pushes me against the wall, making way for Chris to pass. He looks somewhat disappointed yet departs for Mr King’s classroom. Jake leads the way, out the door and I follow. Sneakily I steal another look back and am mortified to see that he is still looking, but he waves and I awkwardly raise my hand halfway before the door blocks my view.

“Chris Williams! Oh my god! He’s so cute.” Lily squeals as we exit Tescos. I embarrassedly look down at my feet to hide my growing grin.

“Keep it down please!” I hiss under my breath, “I don’t need everyone finding out, especially him,” the thought sends icy chills through my body.

Jake gives me a grin, “How long have you had love eyes for him?” My face distorts and scrunches up at his question. Nothing is more awkward than talking to straight guys about guys, not that I don’t like that he tries to be supportive by doing so, but it’s so much harder to talk to guys about guys than talking to girls about guys.

“We are not having this conversation right now,” I say trying to tame their curiosity. I am fruitless.

“I think he likes you too,” Lily says normally with a contained small grin on her face. I look sheepishly to her. “I’m not kidding, you’re not the only one giving extended looks.” I actually die, when she says this.

“What are you talking about!” I cry, trying to mask the excitement with outrage and shock. She gives me a cute and suggestive smile as we re-enter the school centre.

“Maybe if you just keep your head off the desk during lessons, you could notice some wandering eyes too,” she teases before she quickly snatches her books from the floor and makes for Ms Smith to confirm what the Chemistry assignment is about.

Two weeks later and I begin to understand what Lily was talking about, though she refuses to say more. I can sometimes catch Chris peeking in my direction during classes and in the mornings, trying to seperate from his entourage heading my way, but being the idiot I am, I evade his attempts at conversation.

It’s break. “I’m a complete arse,” I say sadly to Grace, another friend who’s been let into the drama courtesy of Lily. She’s looking across the terrace of students and looks to me funnily.

She grabs my arm and violently hauls me from my seat into the thick of the horde of students. Faces blur as I am helplessly dragged across the terrace. “Grace. Grace, Grace!” I struggle to say whilst laughing though I am utterly unaware of her plans. “Where are we g-” I stop mid-sentence as my gaze falls upon the boy in front of us. My legs spasm and jolt as I pointlessly struggle against Grace’s powerful grasp. “Stop! Grace, please” I whisper loudly. Eyes fall upon me as I am pulled upright, only centimetres separating myself and Chris.

He gives me a curious look. “Have you got English next?” he asks innocently.

“Uhh..” I have to stop staring at his face. This is too awkward, I feel like curling up into a ball on the floor.

“He does,” Grace interjects calmly, handing me my books and smiling cheekily at me. Chris’ friends look at him weirdly, as if to say “What are you doing? Why do you want to walk with him.” I again keep my head down until we exit the area and then look up at him. He’s looking right at me.

“Hi,” he says, and I sense his nervousness. I begin to relax, if only a bit, understanding that I’m not the only one who’s shy and feeling awkward.

“Hey,” I reply. Honestly, at this moment that’s the best I could do. He smiles and in a rush, courage cascades swiftly throughout my being. “Is there something happening between us?” right after I say it, my heart sinks, anticipating the worst: Are you kidding? No. What could be possibly be happening between us? This was a mistake. I don’t like you, you’re a weirdo. I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re a creep, I hate you.

We reach the English department in silence and as we’re about to part ways he catches my wrist. “I hope so,” he responds. I stop and feel my blood flush from my body, my heart out of control, thumping louder than ever, my legs turn to jelly and I have trouble standing. “Talk to you later?” he continues. Giving me a wink he turns on his heel and departs. I remain stationary for a minute and then climb the stairs to my classroom practically gasping for air. That did not just happen!

Three days later and it’s a Sunday. I am sitting outside of my house on a stone wall swinging my feet through the overgrown grass beneath me. The sky is mottled with white spots of clouds enshrouded in a bright playful blue. The birds twitter and chirp as the wind gently blows through my hair. My senses are next made aware of the mild rustling of gravel under shoes and I bring my head around to face its source. How can he be so perfect? His clothes are neat and stylish, completely in tune with his physical appearance. It’s like the clothes were made solely to be worn by him since both compliment each other so well.

“Hi.” How does he do that? Every time he says it, the swarm of butterflies confined in my stomach make a ruckus. He smiles so genuinely and kindly, “Should we go?”

It’s my turn to speak and I savagely beat down the cowardice I feel. “Yeah, let’s go.”

We walk for a long time through the town and through fields. With every word it becomes easier to speak and I feel myself becoming lighter. We talk about school, assignments, teachers (I was especially pleased that we could agree on Mr Keath being an absolute prat), family, holidays, food, hobbies, sport and more. For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel restrained in speech, I could say anything I wanted to, a freedom that I sometimes didn’t even have with my friends. Somehow the topic of Shawn Mendes arises.

“He’s so hot!” I exclaim. Chris looks at me and just laughs, to which I bashfully shut my mouth and try to hide my burning cheeks. Chris walks ahead and stops in the middle of a clearing encompassed by forest on all sides. It’s a near perfect circle of lush green grass that interrupts the dense forestry. I look up and he beckons me towards him.

“Shawn Mendes is cute,” he assures me, and I look up at him. Our eye contact is out-of-this-world, something I have never felt before overcomes me. I find my chest pressed against his. His hand rises, thumb extended from the rest of his hand, his expression is calm and happy. His thumb brushes against my chin as the other fingers glide across my neck, his thumb remaining on my jawline. His fingers on my nape he says, “But I’d rather be here with someone else.”

I gulp, but keep staring in to his eyes as he does the same with me. Dumbly I ask, “Who would that be?”

His head tilts slightly as it conquers distance from mine. I feel his breath on me and I become engrossed in the moment. Nothing else matters at this moment anymore. I move my face forward in response and our lips remain apart by the width of a pencil. He smiles and I return it. Our lips make contact softly and we stay still for several seconds, when we both pull away synchronised. I cannot begin to pretend that it was a brilliant kiss, it was my first, but for me I felt like nothing could ever top it. We both just stand there smiling and staring at each other and then we hug. We hug for minutes on end.

By the time we’ve gotten back to my house again the sun is dipping into the horizon. We’ve been holding hands, and I’m happier than I’ve been for a long time. We stop and stand still at the door.

I open my mouth but cannot find the right words. He looks upset. “Is this what you want?” he asks me and I am totally flabbergasted.

“What?” I hold his gaze and smile. “Of course.” He lets out a sigh.

“Good,” he answers. “That means I can do this.” He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “And this.” His lips are again planted on my own and my worries melt away. I forget that Lily is coming over for our Geography assignment, so as we pull apart I see her in the corner of my eye grinning madly and actually hopping up and down with joy. Chris turns to face her and becomes bashful himself.

Lily comes over, looks us both over shortly and burst out, “This is freaking amazing!” Chris and I just look at each other and smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chris quietly asks me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I reply beaming.

more about relationships

If you’ve been reading my previous blogs, you’ll know that my name is John and I am 15 years old. This means that I am in school and in fact in a very important year for any British student of my age because of the looming GCSEs that coming in June. About 2 weeks ago I had these practice examinations called “mocks” that we do in order to get a taste for how GCSE exams are and what the marking scheme is like. I’ve already gotten these results back and from them, it is obvious that I have not studied enough (some were good, though most were borderline acceptable for my parents and teachers). This leads me to the question: how is it that I manage to avoid/ignore all revision opportunities and advice that I have? The simple answer is distractions. I pride myself on the extent of movies and tv series I’ve watched as this means I can typically chip into any interesting conversations about most of them. It’s become an addiction however that is interfering with my studies. It probably sounds stupid to call it an addiction when there are more serious cases of it with alcohol and gambling, but I’m serious as it can simply take me over during boring revision. One minute I’m doing a practice Biology paper and the next I’m watching the latest episode of “Riverdale” or watching the new Netflix movie that I know isn’t that good but can’t help myself.

Another important (maybe not as significant as the last ๐Ÿ˜‰ is the dating/meeting up of two of my closest friends. These are not the ones I talked about in one of my previous blogs. This is a relationship that would make my heart melt if it succeeds. He is Jim, a tall half-asian half-brit, strong and muscly and one of the best swimmers in the school who is in my house (the school is separated into multiple “houses”) and been my friend since we met over 2 years ago. She is Lili, short, funny and compelling in a way I can’t explain and sometimes the reason I’m scared that maybe I actually haven’t fully discovered my sexuality. I’ve known her for a year longer than Jim, but only became proper good friends last year whilst attending the same art class. They are 2 of the 5 people I’ve told that I’m gay and I might go as far as saying that I love them (in the friend way). The weird thing going on between the two is something that’s been going on since the night I told Lili about my sexuality about a month ago. We were going on a walk through town on Saturday night, talking about our lives and stuff and I had been trying to tell her that I was gay for about a week but never found the right moment. We were walking down my house’s street and I can’t recall exactly what we were talking about but I decided it was time and told her I had something to tell her and that it was important and immediately she cut me off saying “Let me guess, you’re gay?” in a jokingly way. I’d like to say that I was stunned by the straight forward guess, but I’ve found lately that this is what most people strangely think of when someone says they have something important to say and it’s kind of annoying because although I did call it something important, it shouldn’t really be the immediate assumption. That’s not important though. Whilst asking me she was looking at me and the look on my face must have shocked her because she mustn’t have been expecting me to not deny it. She first asked me if I was joking or being serious, but upon confirmation she smiled at me and said, “ok”. We then resumed our conversation of favourite Riverdale moments and characters. Jim, I had told the week before and he too was completely unchanged in his attitude towards me afterwards; it was almost as if they already knew (they have however confirmed that they had not suspicions of me being gay). 

I love that the thing between them could be something more and I am somewhat largely involved in getting them together, but at the same time, I have a weird feeling inside me that heavily counters my newfound sexuality’s characteristics. One of the main things that this includes is the longing to be with Lili and talk about everything (perhaps boys, because I know so much that I am attracted to men). I’ve considered what this could mean and come to the conclusion that it is more of a brother-sister feeling that I’ve got with her and me being protective maybe, hopefully.

The thing is that I know myself and I don’t like women, but Lili did throw my feelings off balance for a while. As I’m writing I get the feeling that it has been almost therapeutic; releasing my raging emotions and feelings has allowed me to think properly about them for real and know that I’m not a liar when I’m talking about my sexuality. 

I’m really hope that this was somewhat entertaining or nice to read about; it doesn’t matter whether you only read this because you were bored, it’s nice to know that I can share my secrets and stories with everybody in the world (or at least those that have access to a computer). Please contact me or leave a comment for any feedback or suggestions on future topics for blogs and remember to follow me on WordPress and Instagram @anothernormalboy. Also, tag anything you feel is related to me or my life or sexuality with #anothernormalboy. 

Thanks for reading, John.