This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.
*
A man asks his best friend to be his Valentine
I poured myself a glass of wine and sat nervously on the couch to survey all that I had done. Nearly up all night, I had all the Valentine's Day gifts on the coffee table staged, as if they were ready to wrap. Suddenly, knowing he'd be home any minute, I was feeling sick to my stomach with dread, anticipation, and excitement.
I didn't sleep a wink last night. I couldn't. I tossed and turned all night long with worry wondering if I should I go through with this or not. I was a nervous wreck with all the what ifs. The wine helped to relax me some, but the alcohol went right to my head and making me feel a bit too relaxed, sleepy, actually. I couldn't stop yawning.
I knew it was a bold move on my part, but I needed to know one way or the other, if my best friend, Carl, would ever be my lover. I chickened out telling him how I really felt about him over the holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve, especially New Year's Eve. When they dropped the ball at midnight, I so wanted to kiss him. I so wanted to stick my tongue in his mouth. Only, I wasn't drunk enough to do that. Had I been, I could have used my drunkenness as my excuse, should he be angry with me for kissing him. Then, caught up in the festive mood of love and romance on Valentine's Day, with feelings that it was now or never, what was a good idea at the time, suddenly soured with my stomach.
I had fun at the card store picking him out a special Valentine's card. Going to the liquor store to buy him a case of his favorite beer was my treat that I would have done, even if it wasn't Valentine's Day. Now that I think more about it, buying him a dozen, red roses at the florist, may have been a bit over the top but, certainly, going to the sports arena to pickup two tickets left there for me for the basketball game was something he'd enjoy. At the very least, I hope he'd take me to the game with him.
Now, that I spent all this money, went through all this trouble, and lost an night's sleeping worrying, I felt foolish. If I didn't expect him home so soon, I'd take a nap. The wine was making me sleepy. Only, I'm so tired and wired wondering about his reaction that I can't sleep, not now anyway. Maybe later, after he comes home.
Then, wide awake again with panicked worry, I thought, what if he's not gay? Chances are and with my luck, he's not. I suspect he's gay, but what if he's not? What if he is gay but isn't ready to come out of the closet? What if he is gay but not interested in me enough to have a romantic relationship? Friends and roommates with him for three years, I should know if he's gay or not, but I don't. Sometimes, my gay radar goes off and other times it doesn't. He always leaves me scratching my head and wondering. Always, I find myself looking at him sideways over one thing he did or another thing he said. Is he or isn't he gay? It's about time that I know.
I noticed that the florist gave me 13 roses instead of twelve. That's weird. I wondered if he just miscounted or if that's something new they do for Valentine's Day to justify their doubling the price of roses for the holiday. It would be funny if the florist was putting the make on me but, too preoccupied over Carl, I didn't even notice. He was kind of cute, that is, for an older man. Notwithstanding the florist giving me an extra rose, whether or not he was putting the make on me, Carl is the man that I want.
I pulled the extra rose from the vase and slowly peeled off the petals, one at a time. If for no other reason, I figured, it would look romantic if there were rose petals all over the coffee table.
"He loves me. He loves me not. He hates me. He is not gay. He loves me. He loves me not. I'm an idiot. I'm a fool. I'm a moron. He loves me. He loves me not. He hates me. He is not gay."
I don't know which is worse, him not being gay, or him being gay and in love with another, or me making a complete fool of myself. I think him not being gay would hurt less, that is, so long as he doesn't beat the crap out of me for hoping he'd be my Valentine. Only, instead of wasting any more of my hopes for a sexual relationship and emotions on him as a potential boyfriend, I needed to know, at the very least, for once and for all, if he was gay. Then, if he's gay, is he interested in me, as a boyfriend and a lover. There was no better day than Valentine's Day to finally learn the truth about him.
He knows I'm gay. My sexual orientation has never been in doubt and has never been a secret. Matter of fact, he takes pleasure in always teasing me about being gay, which is another reason why I believe he may be gay, too, but still hiding in the closet. He's hard to read. Sometimes he acts so gay and other times, he doesn't.
I've never been in the closet about being gay. I'm proud to be a gay man. I like being gay. Being gay suits me. What he doesn't know, at least I don't think he knows, is that I've been in love with him, since the seventh grade.
I know he likes women but the fact that he doesn't have a woman in his life now and the fact that he's never maintained a relationship longer than just a few dates makes me wonder if he's still hiding in the closet. Maybe he doesn't want to be gay and just hides the fact that he is gay. I've seen some signs of him being gay. Without doubt, one gay man can always tell another gay man. Only with him, maybe because I'm biased and too hopeful, maybe because, I'm too close to him and have known him nearly all my life, I'm still not sure. Maybe it's my imagination, maybe it's just wishful desire on my part, but he looks at me funny sometimes, as if he wants to kiss me. Without doubt, I want to kiss him and I would if I could, that is, if I thought he wouldn't punch me in the nose.
He loves watching chick flicks and, sometimes, he cries. He doesn't want me to see him crying, so he leans away from me with his hand over his face. Another thing that makes me suspect that he may be gay is that he loves Cher. Okay, I know that's not really a sign of being gay. A lot of people like Cher, but most guys don't love Cher enough to buy tickets to see her and he did twice, not to mention that he has all her CD's, listens to them all the time, and knows a lot of the words. When he doesn't know I can hear, he sings along with her. C'mon, seriously. That's gay. Oh and he loves watching all those home shows on HGTV. He has a talent for interior design and an eye for color.
I don't know, maybe just the fantasy of him being in love with me is enough for me to take away to imagine a sexual fantasy, which is what I end up doing all the time anyway. Looking at all the Valentine's gifts on the coffee table, there's really nothing that I bought him for Valentine's Day that's really out of line. Okay, maybe the flowers and the Valentine's Day card could be considered crossing the line of our man friendship, but surely not the beer and the basketball tickets. There's no sexual conflict in buying him those. Actually, I got the basketball tickets for free. Then, again, it may be a little awkward if he didn't buy me anything, which he probably didn't. Suddenly, feeling a little like Felix and with him acting so much like an insensitive Oscar, it was torture not knowing if he was gay or straight and if he was interested in me as a boyfriend or not.
Yet, even though I can justify me wanting to reveal my feelings for him in my mind, even though I'm hoping to pull him out of his self-imposed closet, I still can't help feeling foolish. I know, just as he's not gay, he's not going to have a gift for me, not even a Valentine's Day card, which would have been nice. I can't help but already feel slighted and hurt. Yet, it's always better to give than to receive. I just hope I don't ruin our friendship with all that I'm giving him.
"Stop! Just stop," I said out loud.
I'm driving myself crazy with all this back and forth speculation. Is he gay? Is he straight? Does he like me in a sexual way? Would he ever be my boyfriend? Enough. I just needed to close my eyes and relax. Calm yourself. Think good thoughts. It is what it is. Whatever will be will be. Just relax. Breathe. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself with some deep breathing.
Then, I heard his car. He's home. Shit. Oh, my God. This is it. It's now or never. Feeling as if I had done something dreadfully wrong, suddenly, I was sick to my stomach, all over again.
"Anthony! Anthony! Guess what?" He opened the door talking to me, as if I was out there in the hall. He sounded so excited, until he looked at all the stuff on the coffee table. "What's all this?"
"It's your Valentine's Day surprise, silly."
Okay, maybe in hindsight I shouldn't have said silly. That just sounded so gay, too gay, and with me trying to ease him out of the closet into a homosexual relationship, I didn't want to scare him off in him thinking that he must act as effeminate as I am to be a gay man and to be my boyfriend. He doesn't need to be as gay as me. One woman in the relationship is enough. Besides I like the fact that he's so butch and so macho. I prefer him playing more the male role, which is what I love about him. He's such a man's man.
"Alright! Way to go! You bought me my favorite beer. Thanks, Anthony. You're a real pal," he said ignoring the card and the flowers with his eyes focusing just on the beer. Then, he saw the tickets. "Tickets to see the Celtics play Miami Heat and LeBron James. Are these for me, too?"
"Everything here is for you, Carl," including me, I so wanted to say but I bit my tongue.
"Are you kidding me? Wow! Way to go! Way to go! Holy shit! Floor seats? Are you kidding me? How'd you score these? The only seats I ever get are in the nose bleed section."
"I didn't want to tell you this, but the owner of the Celtics, Stephen Pagliuca, is a distant cousin on my Mom's side."
"No way! I didn't know that? You never told me that. If I knew you had an in with the Boston Celtics, I'd be hitting you up for tickets all the time."
"Which is why I didn't tell you, Carl," I said with a laugh.
