I gotta go to work, but this has been weighing so heavily on my mind the last few days that I gotta get it off my chest.

I mentioned in On Helping When You Can that it was an interesting night on Saturday.  What I didn’t mention I started to write and then stopped, but it’s just eating at me.  There was a guy at the bar I like.  I’ve seen him there quite a few times.  He’s straight, and so I haven’t really made any advances or anything.  I’m pretty hell-bent on not making people uncomfortable.  Well, Saturday night while we were talking, he mentioned to me that if he ever were to “go gay,” it’d be for someone like me.  In my slightly intoxicated state, I smiled, said, “aww, thank you!” and left it at that.  I remember thinking that night, “I’m not touching this with a 50-foot pole.”  He’s a cute guy and a guy that I might actually go for (my relationship history has been…not great), but if he was just mouthing off while drunk, if I were to bring it up again, I’m sure things would get real awkward real fast.  He’s at the bar a fair bit, and I wouldn’t want to make it uncomfortable for us to be there at the same time.

On the other hand, if he was sober enough to know what he was saying, what if it was a quiet invitation?  Worse than losing the opportunity would be making him think that I’m not interested, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

And so I’m torn and have been ever since: do I say something?  Do I let it go?  Part of me is tempted to talk to a mutual friend of ours, but at the same time, if he hasn’t said anything to anybody else, I don’t want to out him.  Argh, this sucks!

I’ve been through it in my head.  He and some of the others occasionally go back to smoke.  I’m a heavy smoker: I smoke maybe two cigarettes a year, and maybe a hookah if some friends are going and invite me along.  Consequently, I don’t go out back to smoke very often.  But I considered getting a pack and inviting him out for one so we could talk about it.  He’d say, “I didn’t think you smoked,” and I’d say, “I don’t normally, but what I’ve got to say deserves one.”  He’d look at me suspiciously, my gut would hurt, and I’d take a drag.  I don’t know the exact words I’d use, but at some point, I’d end up going in for a kiss—in some versions, a peck on the cheek and a shy smile before I disappeared inside, and in others, lip-to-lip contact.  In most versions, though, it ends with him saying something to the effect of, “whoa, dude,” putting up his hands, and things being awkward from there on out.  There is one version where it turns into a pretty awesome kiss, though.

Fuck, I need a cigarette just from thinking about it.  My nerves are so on edge right now, and I’m not even going to the bar.  This sucks.  I gotta find somebody to talk to about it.  Trouble is, my friends who are good advice-givers aren’t gay, and my gay friends are not generally very good advice-givers.  Why does gay matter?  It’s more complicated for gay-on-straight than gay-on-gay or straight-on-straight because the degree of rejection can be significantly worse, and sometimes even violent.  Not that I really expect that from this guy—I’ve already mentioned to him that I’m bi, and he was fine with that (said his best friend was bi)—but still…just…complicated.

Ugh, I gotta go to work.  As much as I hate traffic, I think that might be preferable to chewing on this…