Even more, I was proud of myself for doing this alone. Inhaling deeply, I savored the fresh air, the coolness in my lungs. As I stepped outside and pulled the door closed, I gave myself a moment to feel some of the tension disperse. Tonight I would stop the pity party and actually leave the damn house. Glancing away, I headed toward the front door, grabbing my wallet and keys on the way.
Getting out of my own company would help, surely to God it would. It therefore made sense that a few beers would help. Yes, there was always a but, but this time, I clamped my jaw tight and stared at my face. Tired of not stepping the fuck up and owning my sexuality once and for all. I sighed. I still had no idea if I could do this - accept this openness, something I’d spent pretty much my whole life ignoring - but being honest with myself, I was getting tired of my bullshit. I was sure that was all levels of screwed up, but it was my truth. Instead, I focused on my T-shirt, wondering if it was too tight, wondering if anyone could tell from the way it clung to my toned body that I was… gay. Sometimes, I just couldn’t stomach the sight. I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.
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