Gay By Proxy?

Today it's time for a smoothie. I'm taking chunks of real, juicy events, throwing in some changed names, places, times, etc. and blending it with some artificially-flavored details. However, it remains "Pretty All True" in the words of my favorite Olivia the Pig, and one of my new favorite bloggers, Kris, of Pretty All True.

Gay By Proxy.

Back in 1996, my gaydar was going off. Constantly, it seemed. In my Senior Seminar class with Dr. Miller, in Cups Coffee Shop on Old Canton Road, walking around Northpark Mall, and even as I was helping myself to a giant red concoction full of Everclear on Fraternity Row most Thursday nights.

Gaydar is genetic, you know. My dad is gay, which means that gaydar comes free for him. And somehow he passed it along to me, which sometimes made me think I was gay by proxy.

Which could explain why I fell hopelessly in love with a girl named Lauren. Actually, I became obsessed. Clad in old cowboy boots, she strutted her stuff in my daydreams, all over campus, and into my Women's Studies class upstairs in the creaky John Stone House. I sat next to her self consciously, barely daring to breathe lest the grits I'd had for breakfast waft her way. I stole glances at her and was shocked to discover her meeting my gaze. Unable to maintain eye contact, I looked down at my lap and immediately felt my face flushing crimson.

Eventually I grew a bit of confidence and became friends with Lauren. Admittedly we were better friends in writing than face-to-face, perhaps because of my writer-y-ness, and because what confidence I had wasn't enough to let me look her in the eye whilst having a real conversation. I was too shy and scared. And I quickly learned that she was, too, although she'd never have admitted it. But I felt it.

The emails started flying between us.We had so much to talk about. They became intensely personal, lengthy, and some days I was under such a heavy fog that I didn't realize what was happening around me. I confided in her about everything, and she me. I began to analyze every word. Over the summer we also wrote letters back and forth, sometimes 8-10 pages long. Written by hand.

Even with my head in the clouds, I knew this was unusual. I knew I was feeling "things" for Lauren. And my gaydar was going off wildly, so loudly that I couldn't ignore it anymore, but I didn't dare say anything to her. To anyone. I could barely admit to myself what was carved upon my heart and surely visible to everyone else. What made it harder is that I started to sense that Lauren had feelings for me, too...

Desperately seeking validation, I took everything to my shrink's office. I knew I could count on Robin for an unbiased perspective. Loaded all Lauren's letters in an old box along with a scrapbook she'd made me. The inside covers of the scrapbook were covered with hundreds of pictures of flowers she'd painstakingly cut by hand out of magazines. Like the walls of Idgie Threadgood's room in the old folks' home in Fried Green Tomatoes, one of my favorite movies/books of all time. In my mind, we were Idgie & Ruth.

Robin opened the scrapbook and simply gawked. The time, energy, and love that had gone into it were obvious. She looked right at me and said, "You don't have to show me any more. I truly believe Lauren has mutual feelings for you." Robin sensed my frustration and I told her I was tired of hiding my true feelings. She helped me realize it was time to fess up, that I had to come clean and tell Lauren what was going on inside my head.

One night I asked Lauren to meet me in one of the lecture halls so we could talk privately. It was quiet and empty, so different from during the day. Darker. Things echoed. We sat next to each other on the steps leading down to the stage. My heart was racing in my chest and I didn't think I could do it. Somehow I did. I don't really remember any of what I said that night except that at some point I whispered (while looking down at my Doc Martens--not at her, not making eye contact), "Sometimes I want to kiss you."

She talked me out of it. She blamed my dad. She convinced me that I was just feeling our friendship very deeply and that we were so connected/in tune with one another. She rationalized it all and soon I was crying and apologizing and she was hugging me and it was all over not really.

I bought into her arguments, I clung to them. Because on one hand they made total sense and also because as you know, I have a big heart. I love everyone. But after that moment, I hated myself. Although I'd told her everything and didn't have to hide anything anymore, I felt exposed, naked, stupid, and wrung out. Which led to the episode in the shower.

Lauren found out that I'd hurt myself and things were never the same after that. I distanced myself because I didn't know what else to do. I'm sure she didn't understand it all, potentially blamed herself for part of it, and also resented my doing it in the first place.

But I can't take any of it back. I can't un-do it.

These are the pages of my life.

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