Last Saturday, I got together with a few friends I hadn't seen in years. Between our last encounter and this weekend, I came out to everyone in my life, including them, but because we were far away they barely knew the story. Naturally, this led to a deep inquisition about how this came to be, and whether or not this now means i have given up on men entirely. Surprisingly, I didn't feel strange about answering questions. Everything I shared felt genuine and true, and I felt comfortable and confident with what I was saying.
As the day progressed, so did the questions (and the wine). One of my friends was asking me for the whole story, and I shared, just as I usually do. At this point, this is a story I've shared over 50 times. Each time it gets shorter and the details get more murky. However, as I shared the story with my friend on Saturday, I started weeping.
My friend asked me how I knew this was different and I told her that I had just simply never clicked with anyone like I did with the girl I came out for, and as I shared this info with her, my tears started flowing. At the moment, I couldn't understand why I was crying. Now, looking back, I understand it's because I remembered how amazing that felt. How wonderful it was to know that someone out there was so perfect for me. I wasn't crying because it didn't work out. I was crying because for the briefest of moments, it did, and that was something I never thought I would have before I came out.