Fuck You! From the Universe

Every day, my emotions own me. There is not a day when I am allowed to control them. Many people have told me that I don't make an effort, that I want to be miserable. What they don't realize is that people like me make great efforts and try as hard as we can. Unfortunately, I am part of the fraction of that group of people that doesn't succeed. I can't stop my emotions from running rapid, nor keep them from colliding into each other. My emotions don't only change with the environment. They can change anytime without a specific reason. I can't control them, but I can hide them for a while. It takes a lot of brain power for me to keep them hidden. However, it is still my mind, which means these emotions can become dangerous, to myself mostly.

Hiding my feelings is pretty much an art for me. It is one of my best talents. I learned a long time ago that if we want friends, sometimes, we should mask the one we refer to as our true selves. From my experience, people are more likely to walk away when someone is going through something and obviously need them by their side. People like this only come around when you're happy and seem like a good time. I learned that multiple times in my life. Rather than look for someone who cares, it was easier to let my mind descend into chaos. Descending this far down made me feel more, made me feel everything.

I discovered so many emotions that make up my thought process. I feel them fly around me a lot. I feel some more than others. Anger is a common one. It races in my head with no escape. It never lessens, only wallows. I suppress it so much it hurts my head physically. Eventually, I can't hold something that strong. What should have only been a tiny rant progresses into a violent episode that doesn't want to stop. The emotion of anger can have a huge impact, as well as my other key feelings: sadness, loneliness, fear, stress, and anxiety. These are what roam in my head. I can only hide them but for so long. They react with everything in my life, especially loneliness, envy, and anxiety. Happiness flings from time to time, but definitely not as long. So many things try to bring out the worst in my emotions. Feelings for others is what set them off.

For the most part, I'm not a huge fan of love. I definitely hate when people say, "Don't look for love, let love find you." When it comes to love, I can feel myself igniting a spark (metaphorically). Commonly, what happens with those sparks is that they turn into bright flames, flames that I have to hide. As I feel more affection towards someone, the more those flames grow, along with anxiety and fear. For me, this can go on for a long period of time. As a male who is gay and black, it's torture to control it. Part of me, when I'm walking around, is thinking about whether or not a guy that I'm interested in is gay, bi, pan, or anything that would get him to like me back. Since I'm not the type to walk up and say, "You're fucking hot and so sweet at the same time! Let's go out." I keep my feelings in the closet and pray they have an account on a gay social app.

At this time, I can't remember how many dating apps I've been on. Most of my experiences with dating apps have been bullshit. Being on these apps was and still is a waste. Before you feel like you're getting cat fished by men on these apps, the app itself is cat fishing you before you even download it. They show beautiful men smiling, fake nice messages, and men claiming they're looking for that special someone. When I'm on there, no one my age wants anything to do with me. Apparently, I attract older men. I would typically start a conversation by saying, "Hi". What do I get back? I either get someone asking for pics (doesn't say hi back), someone showing their nudes, or no reply.

Sometimes, I'll get someone who seems genuine and cool. I say "Hi."

They say "Hi" or "Hey."

I say "How are you," and then nothing. It's hard to find gay guys my age who can keep up with a conversation or not act like fucking drama bitches. This one guy I talked to said he was trying to lose his virginity with another man. Turns out, he just wanted to buy weed and never spoke to me again. Another guy acted like a stand offish prick. He acted like an asshole.

Here's some advice for gay teens and gay guys in their 20s. Don't say "Hmu" in your profile and then be annoyed when people are actually hitting you up. Then, there are those who say, "Don't be shy, say hi." They don't respond either. What is it about gay guys on dating apps that makes them think they're entitled to be immature douches? I don't know. It makes us all look bad. Also, if their profile does say "Looking for friends, relationship, or chats," sadly there is a good chance they're lying and just want to use you for sex. Don't bother writing your own profile with specifics of what you want. They won't read it. Most of them only speak the language of self centered slut. This made me think lots of gay men were like this, but there are a few that are different.

It's hard to find decent gay guys. The only ones that seem nice and not selfish and narcissistic assholes are the ones on Instagram. They seem to have everything figured out. It seems like a fairy tale (if you're watching videos and posts on your phone). I look at my life and think about how all of those attempts at love, let alone attempts at dating, was a load of crap. For some reason, I keep trying and giving it a chance, even though deep down I felt that gay guys were just immature assholes that are self absorbed and take pleasure in making other people feel bad about themselves. It took a long time for me to realize that's not true. Gays in many cities make it hard to come to that realization. Finally, I met one decent seeming guy. He may not be gay, but he's nice, and doesn't have so much of an obviously judgmental tone.

I finally met a guy who is actually nice. I'll call him Lance, because right now, I don't remember how exactly his name is pronounced. He's bisexual, adorable, sweet, cuddly, and a cutie. I can't make out what race he is and I love it. Seconds before I saw him, I heard his voice. It's magnificent! When I heard it, I said under my breath, "His voice is hot, is he hot?" And fuck yes! He is! He's lovely and such a cuddle bunny. His smile was nice, and his hair was amazing. He didn't care for the movie, Bird Box, but he's so beautiful. I had to let that slide. Here's the awesome part about all of this. I met him in my apartment! Here's the slightly less awesome part. He was there for my roommate. Lance and my roommate are actually friends. He and other friends of my roommate had come over just to hang out. I was just in the living room because I don't like being alone.

As antisocial as I seemed that day, I still wanted to be included. Eventually, I was included into the group. I tried my best to look happy and excited, but it seems my emotions were beginning to show themselves. I held them down for as long as I could. Taking a sneaky glance at Lance (see what I did there) made my situation less tense. I was doing a little better. Some of us were stoned, some of us were drunk. I, alone, was drunk or trying to get drunk. The evening seemed better, until Lance started complaining.

I was fine with it at first, but then he started to put in more details. He started to sink more into the couch in his hoodie. He looked so cute in his hoodie, especially when his hair sticks out at the top. He began to talk about how much he really wanted to cuddle. He talk about how he just needed a man to cuddle with him. I'm a man! I am gay! I fucking volunteer! I wanted to be in bed with him right then and there. Obviously, that would've been a problem, since there was still company present. I pondered asking for his number. Finally, a nice man with such a wonderful personality, cute face, and isn't a douche has come along and is finally in my presence. These were wonderful thoughts. Those thoughts went to a halt when Lance said (paraphrased), "I miss and want to cuddle so bad with my boyfriend"..

I was in a stun mode for a few minutes. Reality came back to me, and I almost didn't realize what had just happened. Then, Lance continued to say more. Suddenly, I knew his boyfriend's name, his boyfriend's pet name or fucking nickname, how special to him he truly was, and etc. All I could do was take my bottle of rum and hide in my bathroom, whispering to my enraged emotions. As quiet as I could, I said repeatedly, "Are you fucking kidding me." I hyperventilated, but unfortunately, I didn't pass out. I was wrecked again. I've been baited so many times in my life, but the universe came at me again with this shit. The universe said, "Fuck you." The universe sent the ultimate fuck you. The more Lance or any of my roommate's friends bought up his boyfriend, I couldn't handle it. Eventually, they all left, even my roommate. I wasn't invited to what they had planned that night. That's all I needed. My emotions were now allowed to run free.

After everyone left me alone with my enraged feelings, I lost it. I fucked shit up all over the apartment. I couldn't handle myself, so I let my emotions fly. They flew far and fast. Chairs were tossed over, stuff was kicked to different parts of my apartment. I jumped up and down, I let myself go and lost it. When the apartment couldn't handle me, I continued onward. The complex I live in felt it, then the bus, then the next bus, then grocery store. I did a lot impulse shopping, just to put everything back and buy bread sticks from Jet's Pizza. The woman making my bread sticks didn't stop to think that the name on the order was for the person waiting the fucking longest. I walked up to her and reminded her, got my fucking bread sticks and proceeded back to the bus, then the next bus, back to the apartment. I saw the mess I had made and decided to add on to it.

I put my bread sticks in the fridge and went to the gym. The guilt was starting to set in, but the loneliness I felt growing was a lot. I sulked as I lifted weights. When I finished my workout, I went back to the apartment. Everything was fixed. My roommate had got back first. I apologized for what had happened. He said, "It was okay." I thought he was owed a full explanation, so I gave it to him. Again, he said, "It was okay." It wasn't okay. He doesn't understand.

I still think about that day, because it was last week. This is now another memory in my life I wish I could fixed. It is now another mistake that I regret that can't be undone. It just hurts so much after years of dealing with so many assholes within my community. It was good to see someone who was proof that not everyone like me is a horny, narcissistic, asshole. However, at the same time, it was awful to finally meet someone like that and then find out they're taken. I saw Lance again. I saw him as I got off of the bus that he was just getting on. He said nothing, as did I. He didn't notice me. If he did, he didn't remember me.

I pictured the kiss with Lance and I could've had. It was a kiss that would've been relieving, refreshing, free. I always have fantasies about what could've been, but this one with Lance is the first that could've actually been real. One afternoon, and my mind becomes a new disaster that no one around me understands. I have mood swings and anxiety attacks that last days. The universe rates them enjoyable. I live drama, the universe calls it comedy. I go to sleep painfully, and universe likes it.