I always told myself never to fall for straight guys. It’s a philosophy that I think gay people must always put into their heads. That way, things would be less complicated.

But I always falter. I can’t seem to live up to this. I don’t even want to write about it, but these pent up feelings keep on crushing me every time I hear his name. I want to talk about it openly, but I am always lost for words when this subject comes to mind.

A few of my friends know about this. I am hoping that they wouldn’t spill this secret, especially to him. I don’t want him to find out, because first, it would make the situation completely awkward, and second, it wouldn’t make him mine anyway.

You. You were inexistent in our first few encounters. But as weeks passed, I realized that you fall under my type. I just have to know if I would dig in your personality.

But I was never able to delve in deeper. I can’t find ways to bring myself closer to you. The simplest of conversations with you is enough to make my heart shudder. I really, really want to get to know you, but I don’t have the guts to do the necessary moves because at the back of my head, I know that you will never like me back. So why even bother?

I tried to find things that would turn me off. And I did, desperately, so just I could completely shut you out of my head. Your raving drunkenness did it. You pissed me off big time. And for a few hours, I hated you.

Was it really effective? My friends told me that it wasn’t valid. You are young, and you are prone to such. After you had your sleep and slipped into sobriety once more, I just found out that I like you even more.

It’s been months. I want to save me from this misery that I have embedded myself with. But how can I do it if I can barely open my mouth when you are within earshot?

But I know time will come that you would find this out. I know you are not that stupid not to. In fact, I have a feeling that you already know, thanks to the multitude of clues that my friends gave away. And the way you look at me recently tells me that you already do.

Although you can never be mine, I will always have the memory of you massaging my hands in the dark of the night, listening to the crashing of the waves over and over again, always touching the shore but never making it inland. And in the absence of light, there are things that you would never see. I hope you have felt the pulse in my hands that throb in your mere presence.