I came out of the closet today. I’d been trying to blend in for so long, hanging around with others like me, but still feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I always thought it was obvious–the flashy colors, my style, the way I carried myself. It was just the way I was made, but some believe it’s a choice. I’m not going to get into that debate, though, because it’s immaterial.
If it weren’t for Zak, I wouldn’t have come out. It took him a while to pull me out of my comfort zone, but I’m glad he did. We were finally going out together in public. As we strolled down the street, I clung to him, feeling insecure as we received lingering looks from passersby. I felt almost threadbare, like they could see right through me. I didn’t know where we were going, but I was too focused on the moment to really care. The further we went, though, the more comfortable I felt. That is, until we got to Michael’s apartment.
“Hey,” Zak said as the handsome Michael opened the door.
“Hey, yourself,” Michael answered with a smile. Then he looked at me, raised his eyebrows and said, “Very nice.”
In a way, I was flattered, but also speechless. What exactly was going on here? We should have had all of this ironed out before we left the apartment, but I was just too distracted. We entered the bedroom and Michael planted his lips on Zak’s. They kissed for a few moments and then Michael looked at me suggestively. Where was this headed? He put his hands on me and slowly felt me up and down. He had smooth hands, but strong too. Then he bit his bottom lip as he slowly and playfully unfastened each of my buttons.
Then he abruptly took me off and threw me in the corner. I would rather not go into detail about what happened next between the two men. Suffice it to say, it did not involve me. The next day at Zak’s apartment, I was washed, dried, and put back on a hanger. As he carried me back to his bedroom, I knew I’d be going back into the closet. I was pretty sure I’d be coming out again, though. It was just a matter of time.