Looking sideways

Do you know when you don’t see something at first, and then suddenly you do, and from that moment on you cannot unsee it anymore? I remember an episode of a sitcom where they showed this in a very effective way: the sound of a glass breaking. It’s the perfect metaphor, if you think about it. Once it’s broken, you can try to glue it back together, but it will never go back to what it once was, no matter what carglass tells you. Entropy one, advertising zero. It’s almost philosophical, if you think about it. And reassuring. Because physics and math are both very reassuring. But I digress. In the case of my specific glass, it was not a perfect piece beforehand. I saw cracks on it, but I chose to believe that the thing was strong enough to stay in one piece. You can call me naïve, but I prefer to see myself as a glass half full kind of person, who will always expect the best out of people. There are downsides to this approach, but I don’t want to digress again. One thing I can say is that,...

As I was laying down between those big, beautiful muscled arms dotted with freckles, I thought about my teenage self. I thought about how he was completely lost with his sexuality, how he knew deep down that he liked boys, but he felt trapped in a world where he had to like girls. How he forced himself to try to be something he wasn’t. On top of all that, I remembered how he was a chubby, awkward person, with so much acne that his face resembled a cheese grater. How he was secretly in love with the jocks from his school, and how he was absolutely sure they would never look at him. Because he thought of himself as unattractive, but also showing his interest would mean, in his mind, that he would be bullied and made fun of. I wanted to swap places with him, to put him inside the big arms of this very handsome, but most importantly, extremely nice, kind and lovely boy who was hugging me. I wanted to show the teenager that he also deserved love and care, and that there are people who would...