Don’t Fence Me In
06.11.10
Just when you think that you’ve evolved into something new, that old inner self rears its insecure (read ugly) little head. But before anyone jumps the gun and assumes I ended up in an eight-way at some random hotel, it’s a little less adventuresome and a lot more desperate. Imagine a little boy with bewildered eyes trying to understand how it’s possible that he’s liked by the hot, straight football star (read absolute stud).
Yes, it’s been a long road since the days when the hottest junior in high school sought me out for friendship, but somehow I’ve been transported back to that frame of mind. The players have seemed to change, but unfortunately there are parts of me that are very much the same. I’m just not used to the idea of being a desirable friend to total badasses. It’s something I need to overcome before I become one, as a soldier of course.
If you hadn’t guessed yet, I’m talking about my trainer. Even though he’s ten years my junior, I think of him as a complete and utter stud. Not only is he built like a brickhouse, but he’s trained his body to become a specimen of the highest calibre, an ideal many never seek let alone achieve. Furthermore, he’s got the smarts and personality and insight to round out a complete package.
But before that bullet is lodged in the chamber, I insist that there’s not the same sort of infatuation I had for my football star of former years, or his wrestling star younger brother for that matter. Regardless, I feel the same emotions of mistrust. It reveals a much darker part of my persona than I’d like to admit, which is why it’s imperative for me to address it without fear. I never thought hot, straight men would ever desire to befriend me.
It couldn’t be further from the truth. All my life, I’ve either opened myself up to those sorts of men or they’ve been interested in pursuing friendships with me. Wait, wait, wait. I’m going about this all wrong. It’s why I need to examine this side of myself and figure it out. Hot, straight men don’t pursue friendships with other guys. They just happen. Here’s where the major disconnect lies.
When it comes to relationships, I invest too much thought into them, especially in comparison to my straight buddies. There’s a reason for that though. It stems back to my school age days when I would walk into situations where I was the topic of conversation. It wouldn’t be a nice conversation to walk in on. Furthermore, I was ousted by my fraternity, by unanimous choice. When it crumbled all around me, I learned from a trusted few that it was the second time such a plot had been attempted against me.
Without going into too much further detail, I’ve recoiled from such experiences with a general mistrust of others and their intent. I assume that at most times there is some ulterior motive and that I’m unaware of it. Henceforth, I’ve always questioned the desires of others and been adamant about surrounding myself with people interested in the long haul. I’ve been lucky enough to have a small crowd of such friends, but they all materialized over time without a narrowing eye of suspect upon them.
Sometimes my insecurities get the best of me, as they did last night. I was sitting across from my trainer, after having helped him with an entrance essay for school, and I couldn’t restrain the impulse. I had to ask him.
“So how do you see me?” Of course I meant it in the way of how we might proceed once the business of training and essay writing had come to a close.
He responded instantaneously without thought and a smirk flashing across his face, “As a dirty whore.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true.”
“Seriously, what do you want from me? I mean I’m ten years older. Isn’t that weird? I know you’re not bi-curious or looking for anything in that sense, right?” Maybe somewhere I hoped he might be wanting a foray to the pink side. Silence that seemed eternal ensued.
“Awkward turtle.” He made the hand gesture when I questioned what he meant. Apparently, there’s a tutorial on YouTube about it. It’s supposed to be used as a transition in awkward conversations. I should know it as I have a knack for them.
“Sorry, I just need to hear that you don’t want . . .” At this point, I dived into a long-winded explanation of where I was coming from, why I was asking such questions that wouldn’t normally be necessary to ask and what my intent in doing so was.
“Hey, don’t put so much thought into it. I enjoy your company, that’s all. We may hang out for now or a while or who knows, but I don’t think about it that much. Why feel the need to define it? I guess I just don’t feel the need to establish a definition for people in my life. They’re random.” Ouch. Being schooled by someone ten years younger hasn’t happened to me before.
He was right though. My own philosophy was being spouted right back at me. I knew what he meant to say, that being prematurely attached to people isn’t natural. People can come and go, for a brief period or for the long haul. They’ll be that way whether you label them as such or not. When I reflect upon those of my friends who have been around the longest, it was never necessarily agreed upon. It just happened.
However, coming from a family where I wasn’t assured of support or loving words or financial assistance for that matter, I grew to find my social network through other means. The drawback was that they were always less stable, less certain and liable to disappear without a trace. Another repercussion was that those who had families of strength couldn’t understand why I was latching on so dearly to a friendship.
It’s friendships that have helped me survive and to friends whom I owe my greatest loyalty. Imagine not having a family you can turn to and you might get a better idea of what it means to be a vast segment of us out there with less fortunate backgrounds. However, I can’t let my past handicap me going forward. I can’t keep seeking to fence in those I want to be around for the long-term. No one wants to be fenced in, not even me.