I’m gay. Which means that my future in regards with romance will probably be much non-existent. This may turn out to be just another sad, miserable, and hopeless journal. But, it is the way I see my destiny for the next years to come. As if there’s a permanent scar attached in my forehead as a sign of celibacy or in worst case, a symbol that signifies — not allowed to experience love. More or less, I feel much likely to be isolated and sealed tightly inside a jar, and boy, have I told you already that this is more than suffocating?
Funny thing though, I grew up in a third world country where social conservatives were scattered throughout each side of nation. Social conservatives are very much likely determined and interested to condemn homosexuals as not a part of this society instead of just prioritizing how to find clever ways on filing their empty stomachs. No doubt why this country remains poor as it is. With regards to endless discriminations of narrow-minded people, most homosexuals are scared to open theirselves because even their own parents and colleagues simply give shrugs in terms of support. Only few brave homosexuals, like me, are mighty enough to stand up for our legal rights as an individual. For the reason of cowardness, some closeted homosexuals won’t bother anyhow to express their feelings toward the person they like. Or perhaps some straight guy won’t even dare to attempt on having a relationship towards their same gender. In this country, same sex relationship automatically implies social humiliation — foremost reason why I’m still as lonely as I am at this hour.
Furthermore, I will be turning eighteen exactly two months from now. Sad to say, I have pressumed that my love life will remain at ease. Although some ladies are volunteering to be my man, I still don’t find vaginas interesting. To be sure, I like boys. I calmly believe that only a man can satisfy me romantically and sexually. Hard to understand but it is the reality — some boys love boys.
It scares me that one day when all my friends have finally decided to settle down with their almost perfect husbands and I will be the only one who left with no one to sleep with. At some point, I am slowly accepting this idea. However, I remain having that desire of, at least, someday, someone will nevermind all the social prejudice and will proudly ask me to be his other behalf eternally. This will no longer be as lovely as it is now until I turn forty. I know I have this enormous negitivity inside my head, but, who knows? I might just be that old rich lonely man who does nothing but work, excercise, eat, and sleep.