Blossoming
II.I.VI
BLOSSOMING
Over the coming days, Pedro and I started seeing more of each other. The more time we spent together, the closer we seemed to get. It was kinda addicting, not gonna lie.
Everything was completely new to me. We’d meet at his place, and he’d cook for me. We’d drive off to the beach and gaze at the sunset. We’d go to the cinema and watch a movie, or to a restaurant and have dinner. We’d hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, and then move on to some 18+ stuff. We’d have long discussions about anything and everything – from the existence of God and politics to philosophy and science. Just normal couple stuff, you know – the cheesy, cloying behaviour I’d previously mocked and shunned.
As time went by, I started to notice something happening to me. I’d be at school and suddenly I couldn’t focus on anything anymore. I’d be with my friends and suddenly I’d turn around to tell him something. I’d go back home after a long day, and he’d be the one I wanted to see and talk to. You’d think it was a brain tumour pressing on my frontal lobe, but apparently, falling for someone can present with the same signs and symptoms.
I was completely infatuated with him. I’d spend hours just staring at him, studying him, trying to take in every single detail as I traced my fingers over his body, completely absorbed and immersed in him. His hair, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his body, his tattoos – all of him. I had no idea how I’d never appreciated the male physique before then. He was simply gorgeous. And he was all mine.
And that’s when it hit me. We were practically in a relationship. We had never had ‘the talk,’ but for all intents and purposes, we found ourselves in one without meaning to. Me – emotionally stunted, commitment-phobe Marius – in a relationship. With a guy. A Latino who was nearly twice my age. But it didn’t seem to matter. I didn’t freak out. It felt right. We kept meeting up, and with every date, our feelings grew stronger.
But, as fate would have it, there was a catch. He had come to Malta to study English for a couple of months – that’s it. Knowing he had to go back to Colombia in a few weeks meant this could only be a fling. He’d subtly suggest that I visit him once he’d gone, but we both knew that wasn’t gonna happen. With this goodbye looming over our heads, neither of us really wanted things to progress, though at the same time, we did nothing to stop it.
“Dammit! I can’t let this happen! First of all, he’s leaving soon. Second, I still want to enjoy my life as a single, eligible bachelor. And third, if this becomes a real thing, then I’d have to start telling all my friends about him. That means I won’t be Marius to them anymore – I’ll be bisexual Marius. Whatever that means.”
Now, of course, my closest friends already knew I was bi from the very start. But even telling them – the people I could tell anything – it wasn’t as easy as I thought. You see, on the outside, I seem like the kind of person who loves attention. I’m super loud, I love to joke around, and I’m quite gregarious overall. And that attracts attention. But in reality? I hate being in the spotlight. I even have stage fright, for crying out loud. And when you reveal something juicy about yourself, you might as well disrobe and call the paparazzi.
Coming out to my friends was… okay? Momma Bear was right there when I decided to experiment , so she didn’t need much explaining. But the rest of them? I was wrecked with anxiety, so I did what I always do – I ripped the bandaid and just blurted it out: “Uhm, you know, when I was in Manchester… I kinda fooled around with a guy, and I didn’t really mind it.” Of course, I was always very selective about the people closest to me. I was surrounded by genuinely good people, and their reactions lived up to my expectations. Some were surprised, some had already seen it coming – all of them super supportive.
That said, they asked a lot of questions. I answered as graciously as possible. God knew how many more I’d have to answer, and that was gonna be practice at the very least. I was expecting all kinds of reactions from all kinds of people. Hell, a friend of mine almost got run over by a car when I told her. To be completely fair, the middle of the road wasn’t quite the right setting. And it wasn’t really the fact that I was bi that shocked her. Turns out, I wasn’t the first person to come out after dating her. Nor was I the second – or third. So ha! There it is. I wasn’t born this way – she converted me!
As anxious as I’d been about the whole coming-out ordeal, I was still regular old Marius to most. That was exactly what I wanted, and luckily, the people in my corner had my back.
Whilst confronting my sexuality wasn’t much of an issue, reconciling my love of freedom with being in a stable, monogamous relationship – and the fact that he’d be going away soon – were still valid reasons to consider ending things.
A few weeks later, it was down to just one issue. When Pedro told me he wanted ‘to talk,’ I was already bracing myself for the worst. Turns out, he had just gotten himself a job here in Malta. This, of course, meant he could extend his visa and live here indefinitely. “CRAP! CRAP! CRAP! This makes it official! He’s gonna stay here and we’ll live happily ever after and… crap, I don’t want this! I’m too young for this! I have my career to think about! Plus, I just started this adventure and I want to experiment a little more!”.
I was freaking out. I was in my first ever relationship, and up until that moment, I thought I had been happy. And suddenly, I wanted out. I had kinda made up my mind about breaking things off. I was sure of it. I had already rehearsed how I’d end it. I would’ve probably gone with the classic: “It’s not you, it’s me…” and then rambled on about having to put medicine first and that I couldn’t afford to spend my time playing around with a boy.
But then… every single time, unfailingly, we would have another one of those conversations, and all those insecurities would just dissipate into nothingness. All I could think about was us two lying on that couch with his head on my chest. That’s when ‘me gustas’ suddenly turned into ‘te amo’. I was in love.
