My heart broke a few times tonight.

I met up with someone for dinner at a sweet vegan place out west. She came out to me back in May as bisexual. I think she gave me that little push to be honest with myself. Not to mention we made out, even if I had blacked out and didn’t remember.

I got there first, and the waitress asked if I wanted anything to drink. She was attractive, in a dark way – not exactly perky, but she had a sort of dry, sarcastic humour to her. She also looked familiar. I said water was fine for now.

My friend, Four, finally came – we’d been trying to meet up since I’d drunkenly came out to her last Friday, to talk about what happened… and what will happen here on out.

We bantered around, pushing jokes here and there, and got to know each other much better – I’d only met her through a mutual friend last October by pure serendipity. It was a good time, and the food was most excellent. Mac ‘n’ unCheese game strong here.

Then I blurted out the beginning of a sentence that was the start of something I’d been wanting to ask her advice for. But I couldn’t finish the sentence. I immediately retreated, cast my eyes down at my food, and stabbed at the macaroni with my fork. She prompted me. I hesitated. I tried. She misread me and asked “do you want to talk about last Friday?”. It wasn’t what I was going for, but it was a way out so I took it. But not exactly. I umm’d. She said “do you want me to go first?”. I nodded.

She told me about her own struggles with understanding her own identity, her emotionally abusive relationship with her piece of human garbage ex, and her mental health issues. She had it bad, medically, and she had no support. And she was being picked away at bit by bit by her piece of shit boyfriend. I fumed on the inside but more than anything I felt so (irrationally) disappointed with myself that I wasn’t there, that society had failed to give her any social support. I felt crushed. And I could hear her struggling under the weight of her words and the memories they painted.

I’m a firm believer in talking things out. Coming from an Asian family that doesn’t talk about our feelings (as with 90% of Asian families), I think it’s healthier to voice out and reason our thoughts than to keep them suppressed. So I helped Four continue, prompting her softly with questions, keeping it relatively light by peppering it with jokes.

She went through a dark period of depression at one point and as she told her story, I felt my heart crumpling with each sentence. I felt like I was imploding. I think I was visibly slouching from it. As I was about to come close to tears, she began to tear up and I had to take control and backpedal the conversation out of there – I think I’d let it go a bit too far. “Aw no, don’t cry! You’re going to make me cry! *laughs softly*” — (I regret saying the first part – I feel that that only prompts someone to cry more). I made light of the situation and steered it away.

At some point we started talking about me, and what I was planning to do. I’m clumsy with words and elaborating on my feelings and why I feel them. I told her about how I hung out with another friend yesterday and really enjoyed his company – that he was really cultured and I had a good time just hanging out with him… “but I wouldn’t date hi-… I don’t… think…” I wasn’t sure. And the truth was “I don’t really know. I’m done thinking I know what I want”. I proceeded to talk about a crush I’m not sure I’ve recovered from… An unexpected crush on a WASP girl, who, when I met for the first time, barely made an impression on me. But as I got to know her better, I found her humour ridiculously attractive, and more so, her personality was electrifying. She was humble, and self-deprecating with her humour – something that was new to me, that I had just begun to recognize. She was blonde, very, very white – grew up in farmer town. And I’d never expected myself to crush so hard on someone like that. But it was something I couldn’t get out of for over a year.

I shoud’ve mentioned to her that when it comes to attraction, I find both men and women physically attractive (in different ways of course), but when it comes to emotional attraction, women win hands down – I love how complex they are. I won’t go into details (today), but I definitely lean more towards women.

The waitress came by and offered dessert or coffee. I looked at her. I think it was a natural part of her persona but there was an unintentionally flirty tone in her voice. (How dangerous.)

Four asked for coffee. When the waitress left, I looked her in the eye and said “she looks familiar. I think she’s on a TV show”. It was actually a youtube channel came to mind, but I didn’t mention that to her. She agreed anyways “yeah I think she’s on a commercial”. I said “I’m gonna ask her when she comes again”.

The waitress came back with coffee, and after chit chatting for a bit about preference for soy or almond milk with P, she turned. I blurted “Are you on a TV show?”

For a second I thought she didn’t hear me. But she slowly turned and looked at me, not saying a word. She stepped closer. Not a word. Her lips slowly pursed. Four repeated my question… “Are you? Yes? …No? …No? I’ll take it as a no”. I held my silence, waiting for the waitress to break hers. “… Sorta. You might recognize me from Tumblr?”

That wasn’t it. I waited. Four didn’t get it. Silence. The waitress continued, looking at P. “Do you watch the gaywomens channel?” Four stared blankly. I froze… then uttered “yes”. The waitress looked at me, almost as if in surprise*. “I’m in a series _____”. I’d heard of it before but I didn’t get past the first episode. “And I just wrapped up my first full length movie.” (I’d heard about this one). I perked back up, a little battered from admitting to watching that youtube channel – it felt like coming out. She asked that we keep it on the down-low since she didn’t want her crazy stalker fans knowing where she worked. She said she didn’t remember when the release date was, and when she talked more about the series, she said its name with a tinge of almost shame (Four later said she interpreted this as modesty). I picked that right up and said “what was that!” She looked at me. “You should be proud of it! Sure you have some crazy ass stalker fans, but that’s” – I honestly don’t remember what I said here, I was a bit flustered that she would refuse to recognize her accomplishments, I just hope it was something intelligible/ motivational. I hate when women hide or dismiss their accomplishments.

* I swear I set off gaydars. I don’t know why she wasn’t looking at me this entire time.

She was a sweetheart. It seemed unreal, the circumstances that I met her in – not only was it serendipitous, it was fitting for the… “theme” of our get together. After all, that’s what we were there to talk about.

Life’s gotten a lot more interesting since I opened up like this – most importantly it’s pulled me to people more like me. I don’t feel as alone. A year ago, when I was closeted, there was no way I would’ve: 1. been there at that time, or 2. admitted to watching the gaywomens channel.

The future is an exciting and scary place.


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