Man oh man. It sucks to be socially retarded—to believe that you are undesireable and to create a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The cool professor was in town today. He was moving from one office to another this weekend.
The first night he was here he called me up and asked me to dinner. I showed up early, helped him move some of the larger pieces in his office and we headed out.
He took me to one of the nicest restaurants in town. It was hott. We sat down and talked for the first time for real. He told me about his ex-wife, his husband, and his very long career of affairs in academia.
I was stunned and tickled nearly to the point of tears by his stories. I loved it. Few people can roll with such stories. I offered my own repertoire and the evening went off excellently.
He mentioned that cute boi—the guy from the party at the end of the spring semester was coming to help him also move the following day. He sarcastically asked me if I remembered him. I said of course and asked him about how he was doing. He gave me the low-down.
Cute boi had suffered a major career disappointment over the past couple months. I told the professor that I had e-mailed him but that he never got back to me. The professor was oddly silent for a moment—it might have also just been me. He said that his impression was that cute boi had not wanted to admit just how hard of a blow his disappointment was to him.
I acquiesced. A long silence followed, and finally I broke it by saying, “Do me a favor, will you? Give him my number.” He said, “I will do that.” Then he said, “Why don’t you come by tomorrow at around 5 or
During his update on cute boi he mentioned that he is so utterly honest and kind hearted. He was sweetly innocent. I couldn’t but rejoin with an abrupt—“Yes, he is.” The professor then said, “Most people who get to know him fall in love with him.”
The statement hit me hard. I wondered about what had cute boi thought about me. Did the professor’s theory about his not e-mailing back hold water? I kept a tense silence.
Later on, he asked me about my last academic year. I told him how my perception of professor’s had declined severely. As I told him the stories, he asked what I thought might account for these problems.
I slowly but bluntly told him that professors found me odd and that I could distinguish this reaction now even early upon meeting. He asked me to name this reaction. I tried and said anger and envy. He said—“Yes. It is envy and fear—two very powerful emotions.”
I said that it was rather daunting to experience because of the intensity. He said that it was bound to happen because of my beauty. As he said that last phrase he turned to the side and sort of muffled his words. My eyes slightly widened with curiosity and I asked, “I’m sorry could you say that again?”
He said, “Your beauty. You have an unusual and striking beauty that intimidates people.” Then he went to mention other characteristics that would make it difficult for people to place me in the most basic of categories among them was an unconventional “earnestness” that people did not expect.
He told me that I would always have to work harder to bring people’s defenses down as they would attempt to protect themselves from me by stereotyping me as an ass and a jerk.
We parted ways and agreed to meet the following day.
I was nervous beyond belief and excited at the same time. I couldn’t believe that I would get a second chance with cute boi. OMG—what the hell would I do or say?
I did my face more than once to make sure it would look even more effortless and naturally flawless than usual. I conditioned my hair to make sure it would be as soft looking as possible as well.
I dressed to look ready to move. But I made sure that my attire hid me and yet piqued curiosity as to what lay under the clothes. Baginess can be a good thing.
I arrived and cute boi wasn’t there. The professor greeted me heartily and told me that cute boi was off dumping some trash in the recycling bin.
Last time I saw cute boi I had overdone self-confidence. I had to avoid that problem. Plus, this time, I knew that I liked him and that I wanted to let him know that feeling. I looked at some boxes found a spot to collate and sat on the ground. I couldn’t look intimidating while sitting on the ground.
He came in. He was so tall. He had a big smile on his face and he said, “Hey!” He greeted me with “Its good to see you again”. I got up and shook his hand and said something along the same lines. I loved his smile. Not because its particularly sexy or brilliant but because it perfectly portrays his flippant and yet keen demeanor.
I loved it and I was instantly shy. His smile I thought had been a little strained. I could tell because there were traces of other emotions there. I just could not read from where or exactly about what they were.
We got to work and immediately he started cracking non-chalant jokes. We laughed a lot. But I was uneasy and I could tell that either he was too or that he picked it up in me. He said he was going to the vending machine to get a drink and offered to bring some more back. Prof and I declined and he went. He was gone for a while and I could then over hear him on the phone.
When he came back, the professor said, “We should figure out dinner.” Cute boi then said, “Oh—I just made dinner plans”
Fuck, I kept my face low and pinned to the files directly in front of me. Goddamn—this move was odd. It didn’t make sense. Obviously, he didn’t know I was showing up, and he was going to have dinner with the professor. Was he avoiding me?
The professor was sort of surprised too. Cute boi said however that he needed to spend sometime with the girl who was hosting him in town. So then the professor said, lets go for a walk chat some more. I knew that they had some legitimate business to talk about and they did for a few minutes. During that time I got most things done.
I waited in mild agony. And realized, if he comes back in, I had to ask him out, and if the professor returned alone, I would have to chase him out to the lot and ask him out. I wrote my number on a piece of paper ahead of time and waited.
He came in said that he had just been given a lot to think about and then went to recycle his soda can. The professor looked at me and said, “We’ll go to dinner soon.”
I nodded and headed in the direction of cute boi. I caught him on the way back and just said, “Would you like to hang out some time? He got pensive without breaking a stare that he directed straight in front of him but not at me.” He said, “I would but I am booked.” He said so without looking at me. I was uneasy by his failure to make eye contact. I had expected this answer for some reason however. So pulled out my number handed it to him and said, “Here, if you ever get the chance, let me know.”
He looked at it, and again pensive and with a sort of unwavering stare at it and then directly in front of him without looking at me, said, “Good I was going to ask you for this anyway.”
The words were right, but there something odd about the way he said them. Something was not making sense. It was bad. I knew it. He must be seeing someone I thought. Fuck—why wouldn’t the professor have told me prior.
He departed and the professor and I headed to another one of the city’s nicest restaurants. This time, I had not eaten most of the day so as to not overload my body netwise. We talked again for a long long time. I told him all about my family and his reaction was very telling.
He told me about his family and our common experiences became obvious. He told me about his husband and how that worked out. It was phenomenal again.
We left and got back to moving. I told him I had given cute boi my number. He said, “Good. He’s very sweet. He’ll call you back.” I said, “I doubt it.” And then shot back at him a very cynical stare. He then said, “He’s a very ----- guy. He’s very cautious.” Again, he muffled his words, and I asked for clarification.
He repeated, “He’s straight and knows that people always think that he’s gay and is cautious about that perception.” I lost it on the inside.
I said—“I so thought he was gay.” I even cited the very odd instances from the party. The professor said that others had wondered the same for the same reasons. He followed it up with—“However, I could be wrong. Before today he and I have not spent much time together. Things might have changed.”
I felt betrayed, conned, duped, screwed over, all that good shit. I was like, WTF. Something had died in me and it hurt like hell. I had built this guy up in my head a great deal and the hope was dashed in a very incomprehensible way. It did not make sense. It did not add up. The professor added that he obviously very pro-gay and that most of his friends were gay men. The enigma only became more accute and so did my pain.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Nothing made sense at this point. Why did the professor wait until now? Why did cute boi seem to flirt with me at the part? Why did he give me those looks I have un-mistakenly picked out in guys who come to crush on me hard?
We chatted about other guys in my life this past year. We talked well into the morning. He was shocked at how unbelievably fearful I was. He said that all these guys had obviously felt for me. They like me and that I somehow had found ways to avoid intimacy with all of them. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but he was right.
He said that I should just drop any and all shame I had about being gay and to just go after the people I liked regardless of gender or orientation. He said that started confessing his feelings to people when he left high school and hasn’t stopped since then. He said that at first its scary and that embarrassment is inevitable but not that big of a deal. He said that in turn, wonderful things have transpired in his life as a result. He is still good friends with straight men he fell in love with him. They still love him back even though its platonic. They even feel guilty for not being gay.
We finished up with an incredible discussion on political theory. He blew me away with his latest theory which is going to be soon published. I thought it was brilliant and it answered a lot of questions I had harbored recently. I then left.
He and cute boi were going to get together the following morning. The professor needed to have moved everything by
I was safe from cute boi and I would make sure to not send the wrong signals to him again.
Low on self-esteem and feeling down on myself, I decided to ho it up a little for the gym. I was still looking very together from yesterday and all I needed was to dress right. A simple loose yet somewhat fitted and clingy white undershirt with fitted yet box-cut knee-long Nike running shorts did the trick.
I drove around and noticed that cute bois car was still there. Fuck I thought and postponed my check up on the professor until after my workout. I figured that him and cute boi were still talking business.
Entering the gym I phoned the professor and left a voice mail letting him know my proximity and availability. I started my workout. I was looking pretty darn good and I pushed myself. Ironically, the other professor was there to workout too.
After having two dinners with a professor who is straightforward and honest, I had absolutely no patience for an idiotic dork who could rarely even be forthright with me about objective topics.
I ignored him for most of the workout. I knew my appearance was going to have some sort of an effect as I don’t think he’s ever seen me in gym mode. It’s a rather distinctly different picture than class mode. Most people do not see it coming.
I finished and approached him. He immediately made sure to not look at me. It was very odd but I kept absolute professional composure greeted him and asked him some questions about the course that I had.
He answered them in a somewhat incoherent way. I dismissed his idiocy and just finished up with a few more questions about the class. We impromptu scheduled a meeting for early this week and he sort of smirked when we agreed on it. I just returned a stern and yet innocent reply, “Good.” I could tell he was avoiding looking at my torso.
I said “good seeing you” and left. I know he’s either bi or gay. I know he thinks I have a major thing for him. I know it clouds his judgment and it fucken bothers me. I know that I have made him look bad in class because I knew some of the themes very well. I didn’t know how to react. He could not be straightforward and I was not going to do the work for him. I judged him as not worth my time and decided to just not pay him heed anymore beyond the bullshit in class.
I went and got my phone from my locker. Fucken dork that I can be—the professor phoned me twice.
I called back and we agreed that I would help him with the last few boxes.
I pulled around the curb and cute boi was loading them. He looked at me and shouted, “You missed all the fun.” I asked, “Is everything out of there?” He said yes and told me the mini-plan for loading the boxes. He was looking my torso up and down as discretely as possible. I started loading.
I caught him looking at me although it was a bare catch—almost not even a catch. He looked away and then said, “Were you just running?” Dumb question I thought—had I been running in this weather I would have been soaked all the way to my undies. I said, “no I just came from the gym” I then said, “I wouldn’t run in this type of weather”. He said, “yea, that would be crazy”.
We finished and went inside to wait for the professor who was finishing something up on the floor above us. I struck up conversation about my dinner with professor the previous night. He said he knew what amazing stories the professor had. He mentioned one in particular that he couldn’t ever quite understand. I just looked at him earnestly and said “I could.” Then he said, “You’ll have to explain it to me sometime because I sure don’t.” I didn’t say what I should have said which was, “You would if you were bisexual.”
He cracked a joke. I laughed. I had processed already my detachment from him. Its disgusting how I can do that so quickly and effectively. I am more than a robot. I am like a cold and metallic monster. I can distance myself so incredibly and yet be cunning and sharp like a series of blades ready to reduce everything to pulp. I can retain organic malleability and versatility as well as the unyielding ugliness of the hardest metal. I am dead inside and all that is left is protective prickly instinct. I don’t know what to do or if there is anything to do.
The professor was coming down the stairs and he said loudly, “I hear laughter.” I said, “We’re finished professor.”
He asked cute boi if and when he had to leave. He said he had the rest of the evening. The professor didn’t ask me. I said, “thank you for last night. I will be thinking about your advice for a long time.”
We made plans for the next time we would meet. Cute boi made himself apparently aloof while the prof and I talked. We got into our cars and they were going to the next building. I was not invited so I then asked the professor when his flight was leaving. He said he had enough time to finish moving the final load and to make it to the airport. Cute boi walked away to his car and I suppose he thought I would meet them back at the professors other office because he did not say good bye.
I left, and we didn’t say good bye. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t invited but I now know I should have just gone. I should have taken the initiative and possibly hung out with cute boy after the final load.
However, I would have done so only to be friends with him. Perhaps it was however best this way. I think cute boy is confused and that situation would not be good for me. The beauty that is his spirit is impossible to deny. I hope I meet someone like that one day who is comfortable with themselves and who can love me back.
I will continue to hang out with the prof. I gather he must know someone else my age who might meet my criteria.
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