#colin becomes obssessed

[apinchofm]

Fuck it, Mary Sharma can get dicked down by Colin Bridgerton.

[nerdygayboi]

This is going to be a long post, and it's mostly just to help me bury some emotions and let go of the past.

This is a love letter to quite literally all the guys I've ever liked, loved, or obssessed over. My grand out pouring of emotions, whose existence I tend to refuse. I sorted all 50 guys into 3 categories: the ones I lusted for, the ones I liked, and the ones I loved.

To the ones I lusted for: Alex-1, Alex-2, Andres, Arturo, Daniel, Dante, Jake, Jason, Julian, Justin-1, Kevin, Matt-1, Nate-1, Nate-2, Robbie, Steven, Tyler-1, Tyler-2, Zach, That Freckled Guy, and That Sleazy Guy;

  You were all just pretty faces and pretty bodies to me. I talked to you all only a handful of times; you were never signifigant to me apart from when my mind wandered in my own company. The only reason I mention you all in this post is that I need to let go of my obession for boys that, though outwardly beautiful, lack inner beauty. Even as I write this I struggle to remember your full names, and for 2 of you, I can't even rememver your first names; all testament to the lack of importance having met you made in my life. Though I am grateful for having seen your handsome faces, or in some cases handsome rears, I found your personalities dissapointing. Tyler number 2 especially, since last I checked he was wanted for attempted burglary. I thank you all for your beauty, and wish all(but Tyler number 2) luck in whatever your endeavors are, I honestly have no clue what they are.

To the ones I liked: Alex-3, Alfonso, Andrew, Brian, Cody, Colin, Elijah, Ethan, Francisco, Harry, Jack, Jacob, James, Jordan, Justin-2 , Hector, Matt-2, Michael, Pedro, Ramon, Sam, Stephen, and Will,

      At one time, I considered each of you friends. Some were admittedly more dear to me than others, but I would let no harm come to any of you. I'm grateful that each of you made me laugh, and that you all suffered my presence with dignity. I suspected that some of you were not heterosexual, but given my need to conform to 'the norm' and remain in the closet, I never asked. I will admit that I did want to ask those I suspected on a date, but alas, my lack of conviction was my enemy.  I have the upmost confidence that you will all become wonderful people, and I am eager to hear from you in the future.

The ones I loved:

To Matthew V.,

      For many years I did not have a best friend, then I met you. We didn't take to eachother much on our first meeting, but you seemed interested enough in me when we started taking our music classes together. I remember you addressing me by name, that day I started music, though I couldn't remember yours since we only talked once two years prior. I don't think I ever told you how grateful I was for your help in music, I was placed in the advanced class by error with no experience holding a violin. I won't mention our history class, it was dull and I only just remember that we had it together.

You were also the first boy to invite me over to your house, granted it was for a project, but I was invited over many times after that. I love your family, they were so kind to me, and your mother even began chastising me for skipping meals. I felt like I fit in with them, and I was comfortable by your side. Your quirks were endearing - seriously, who tries to say 'sneeze' every single time before they sneeze?- and I loved that I could joke around with you every chance I got with only minimal scolding. You were everything I wanted in a boyfriend, and I secretly thought of you as mine for a time, though I can't remember a time when relationships came up in our conversations. You made me happy for some years of friendship, even if I liked to think of us as more than friends.

Then we started drifting apart. You started talking to people other than me, I stopped coming over to your house, you started dating Brittney. I missed you, for a time, but I knew it was better for you to grow into who you wanted to be. I thank you, for being my friend when I needed one.

To Dalton S.,

       You are perhaps the most handsome person I've ever met. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, took notice of you. There were straight guys and lesbians that admitted to finding you attractive. It's baffling how someone like you exists, and even more so, how you were regarded as so handsome despite a combination of acne and razor rash on your face all four years of highschool. How an adonis like you ever thought of me as a friend is one of the greatest mysteries of our time.

I'll admit that the first time I saw you, I thought you were albino; with your hair so blonde it was white in the sun, and skin so fair that it went red under florescent lights. I didn't think much of you until we had classes together. I remember we didn't talk in our engineering class; but you did seem to express a bit more interest than most when I was praised for breaking 2 school records - highest flying bottle rocket, and farthest distance traveled by those race-cars we shot off the end of an air-compressor. You even ran out the classroom to keep my race-car from going into the parking lot.

The next memory of you that I have is when you stared in my general direction in our 8th grade english class. I looked up from working and you were just staring, almost like you saw a ghost. I looked around to see what you were staring at, but had no clue what you were doing. There were no instructions for us on the board on my side of the class. I even waved to get your attention, and when you looked at me, I mouthed 'What are you looking at?' to which you mouthed something I couldn't read and pointed vaguely. I couldn't find what you were looking at, so I sighed and returned to my work. I still have no clue what you were looking at.

After that, if I saw you staring blankly forward I simply waved to you and mouthed "hi". I think I pulled the gag of repeatedly saying hi an absurd number of times once, but I can't remember. I do remember you and some other boys mouthing "olive oil" to me in our science class that year, which I mistook as "Oliver" and became confused since there wasn't an Oliver in our class. The only memory I have left of you from 8th grade was when I sat behind you in math and had to tell you, on multiple ocassions, to pull up your pants. Sagging was not for you, and I thank you for defending me when Austin tried to critiscise me for making sure your pants were pulled up properly. Your pants being where they were supposed to be was both a matter of upkeeping your dignity, and removing a distraction - so I could focus on the whiteboard, rather than your white crack.

To speak plainly, I only remember being an admirer from afar until we were lab partners in high school biology. And that's when I learned your little quirks: finger tapping, humming, and singing country songs under your breath as you worked. Later I learned that you though of me as a friend, which I thought odd since we rarely spoke after getting new lab partners. We were- Who am I kidding, I can't not mention it.

I thought I was lucky as fuck to not only have you as a lab partner, but to also have the locker next to you in P.E. Ooooh so many people would consider it a sin for me to have looked at you in the locker room, but I don't regret it. You didn't have the most muscle of our grade, nor did you have a flat stomach or abs. For some reason knowing you had some body fat and stretchmarks made you so much more attractive. You, the most sought after boy, had what no one wanted; but you were so confident in yourself that it didn't matter to anyone. I'm cutting this off early within interest of actually finishing this. Thank you for being friendly to me, and sticking up for me that one time. I'm sorry I called you a "racist-ass motha fucka" that one time. You were/are the longest standing crush I've ever had; and I wish I had tried to be your friend instead of forcing myself to keep to minimal contact.

To Matthew M. & Skyler F.,

      I address you together because of your pre-existing history, and the emotions I've felt because of you both.

Matthew, I hope you've finally moved on from Him. You deserve someone who would actually love you, instead of just your body. I wanted to date you, but given that we're both from intolerant families; I made myself distant. Thank you for coming out to me, and trusting me with knowing what was happening. I wish you would have treated yourself better, though I know I probably couldn't have kept you from being so reckless. I hope everything is going well for you, you sweet, sweet giant boy.

Skyler, I hope your bloodline rots. I use you as a compairison for wether or not I am a complete failure. As long as I am above you, I am not a failure. I take pride in knowing that I will always have more worth than you.

And finally

To my ex-boyfriend, Jose M.,

      I'm sorry. I've tried to hate you, I've tried to blame you for everything; but I can't. I could never. I used to think it was all my doing, but I've realized that it was our circumstance that doomed us from the start.

I like to think I've moved on; I no longer cry on your birthday(which passed recently with no incident), and I rarely dwell on thoughts of you anymore.

I mentioned before, in that message that I don't know if you ever recieved, that I got rid of everything. There's no proof that we ever spoke, save the only pictures I have of you. I want to be free of the memory of you, but I don't want to forget either. You were my only instant of requited love, even if we were so young and oh so stupid.

I often wonder what would happen if we ran into eachother some place. You probably wouldn't recognize me, but I know I'll recognize you. Your goofy smile, your half-hearted bravado, the same sad eyes as mine.

It's funny, I thought I've moved on; but here I am, writing this with watery eyes.

Did you know that I can't even say your name? If I speak it, write it even, I have to put a different face to it. For some reason it feels wrong to say your name, almost like avoiding it will keep the memories at bay - if only that were the case.

I can't form the thoughts of what I want to say, what I need to say to you. I'm doing much better now, and I've kept my promise - even if you couldn't keep yours.

I lied, I haven't kept it. Breaking my promise was the first thing I did when I lost you. Please forgive me. But I am doing much, much better now.

Love,

NerdyMegaGayBoi