God, how sexy do I sound.
I was the first person to get to his house. He met me outside while we waited for someone else to get there. And, of course, first thing he tells me: "A guy I just slept with is inside, so don't make it awkward."
So, we get inside, and GUESS WHO THE FUCK IS SITTING ON THE COUCH.
Obviously, it's not as exciting to you as it is to me, but it was this kid whom I've known since I was like seven-years-old, but I haven't seen him in about four or five years. He didn't recognize me, but that's because he hasn't seen me since I identified as a girl. No biggie. It'd be awkward, anyway. It's funny, because I used to call him gay all the time. His name is Gabriel, so I'd be all, "Hey, what's up, Gay... briel." And he'd get ticked off, but then he ended up being gay. So. Score one for me.
I'm not the most savvy person around when it comes to social encounters with people whom I hardly/don't know. So, the first half of the night was awkward and uncomfortable for me and my incredibly inept people-skills and conversational technique.
Anyway, I actually ended up having a good time. There were some cool people there, and a piano in the den for when I needed a break from socializing.
The only thing that upset me was Jared and Gabe being all... stupid and gay and cuddly together.
They met through Grindr and that was the first night they had ever hooked up. So, it's really just strictly sexual. And Jared has a boyfriend whom he is currently cheating on, either way.
They went off and fucked at some point in the night, and then came back into the room that everyone else was in, and sat all tangled in each other on an armchair, and just...
This kid just needs to stop getting new boyfriends/fuck-buddies. There are no gaps in between them all.
And oh my god, you guys, excuse me for being incredibly blunt. But I just need somebody to make me stop being a virgin. Make it. Stop. It isn't fair. I'm one of the few left, and that only makes it worse. Not that the reason I want this is because of peer pressure. I just... ugh, I am the worst kind of person for someone to be attracted to. I am. I'm gay and transgendered. Just. Who even wants that.
Worse yet, my ex-girlfriend probably went off and got laid like a month after we broke up. And she was a virgin beforehand. She told me about how she met this cute guy at the grocery store or whatever, and how she went and got birth control and condoms from the clinic. This is upsetting for two reasons. Firstly, she clearly wasn't at all satisfied with the fact that we couldn't have sex, and it hurts my self-esteem a bit for her to just go stock up on contraceptives not even a week after we break up. Like she had just been dying to no longer be tied down by only half of a man. Secondly, it hurts even worse to know that she can have any guy she wants with a snap of her finger -- not gonna lie, she's just incredibly attractive and charismatic -- and yet I have to go to hell and back to find someone who's even interested in me. Which, FYI, hasn't even happened yet. And it's been five months. I think I'm past the point at which anything with anyone would be considered a rebound.
It just sucks to feel like she's better off without me when I'm the one who broke up with her.
So, Jared is pretty much my only hope right now. We have history. I'm comfortable with him. He's hot. I don't want a relationship. I want the benefits.
And yet, I'm going to have to wait a few months anyway... Because I'm like 200% more self-conscious about my chest than anything else. Having improper equipment downstairs is one thing, but if I want to make out and/or fool around with someone, then goddamn it, I should at least be able to be shirtless.
I get my top-surgery on January 16th. One month. Tack on another month of me having to wear my chest binder while I recover, and then I should be good. At that point, I will have so much more confidence.
Better yet, I turn seventeen on January 5th. And according to Chef on South Park, seventeen is the age at which you're supposed to lose your virginity.
Jesus, I'm pathetic.
Oh, right, so anyway... When I got home from Jared's place, my dad said, "Your eyes look red and glassy. Was anybody there smoking pot?" For the record, he's not super uptight about that. He and my mom smoke. I think he was mostly curious, and didn't press me for details because he could tell that I wasn't lying anyway.
But when I told him that some other people had been smoking, my mom chimed in and said, "You know, it's okay if you were smoking."
Since when...?
Uhhh... hm.
Oh, and my new prescription Deplin should arrive in the mail any day now. Cannot fucking wait at all for that miracle in pill form.
Also, I get to open my Christmas presents tomorrow because my mom is impatient and fuck tradition.
So... well, yeah, merry Christmas to me. I guess.
What is even going on with my life.
