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I wasn’t sure how it got to this point.
There Andrew was, up on a stage in a skin-tight turquoise dress and makeup, a long-haired blonde wig on his head, neatly styled to fit his outfit. His dress had a long sleeve on his left arm and no sleeve at all on his right. Where the dress ended was met with fishnets, covering the only visible parts of his smooth-shaven shiny legs. To finish off the outfit, he had stylish black heels and a white fur coat draped around him. His makeup was flashy, accentuating his already beautifully and carefully orchestrated facial features. Bright orange eyeshadow contrasted against his blue eyes, making them stick out even more than usual. Sharp contour adorned his cheeks, which made them stick out, with heaps of sharp eyeliner framing his eyes.
He looked so much more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined he could be. I was sure if I had a tail, it would be happily wagging, much like an excited wiener dog’s would.
Of course, I already liked him. His gentle mannerisms, how careful he was with others, and how goddamn considerate he was. It almost pissed me off how much of an amazing person Andrew was. He had a big heart – that much was clear. And he was obviously open-minded, considering he was on a stage, performing to an audience in a dress and makeup.
He really did look like a woman. He would make a fine woman if he were one.
I knew I had no chance with him. He was a man, as was I, and he was straight. There was not a sliver of a chance of love for me. How could there be? This type of love was unnatural – it was even frowned upon in many places. Perhaps if he were a woman, we could be together.
-
To be frank, I wasn’t entirely knowledgeable of why I was even at such an event in the first place. Maybe I thought it funny to see my best friend in drag. But when I was actually there? When I found his eyes drifting to look for me in the crowd, expecting nobody to notice his wandering gaze? The small upturn of his lips when he finally spotted me among everyone else and the small but noticeable confidence boost he got after finally seeing my presence in the crowd? It made my heart race, blood rushing to my head and turning my cheeks a rosy shade of pink. I had to distract myself with anything I could to diminish this feeling of butterflies in my stomach.
It almost made me feel sick – the thought that I carried so much love for this boy and he had no idea. The thought that I loved another woman’s son, as a woman’s son myself. I knew this kind of love was unnatural, that my feelings would never be reciprocated.
But when it’s just the two of us holding each other in ways others would deem disgusting and irresponsible, it feels like everything is okay for a mere second. It feels like I can breathe without fear of being too loud, like I can actually be myself without fear of judgement. It feels… free. And in those moments of nothing but quiet, nothing but silent acceptance that things will always be this way, it feels different. If I close my eyes hard enough, it’s almost easy to imagine a future in which he and I are together. A couple. Boyfriends. Not something less, not something more – two boys learning to love each other together, exactly as such.
Even if it will never be reality, I think about it often. Into the depths of the night, where control of my thoughts slowly slips away from me, I find myself vividly picturing a life with him. Our own home, our own personal getaway. And it hurts to think about.
However, I snapped back to reality as he got off stage. I clapped my hands together in a ripple of loud sounds of applause – he did amazing, from what I saw. I thought everything he did was amazing, no matter what it was.
-
After the event was over, I and Andrew went to his house together. It wasn’t a weird thing to do; we did it all the time.
We were best friends, after all.
-
As I looked at his now dull, naturally beautiful face, I found myself thinking back to him in makeup and a dress. Andrew in drag was the only woman I have and ever will love. I would never see her again; he did it as nothing more than a gag – he did it for shits and giggles.
I sometimes find myself wishing he was a homosexual or bi-curious; anything other than explicitly straight. It’s really a shame he’s not a fag. I want to know what it’s like to love him and have the feeling be reciprocated; I imagine it to be a heavenly feeling.
It’s moments like this that I understand why people think love is such a big deal. Hell, I almost despised romance before I discovered the true nature of my feelings for Andrew. I hated how it was considered weird or unnatural if you didn’t have a girlfriend at such a young age. I hated how there was so much pressure on kids to be in love with somebody while still in school.
But now that I’ve experienced it? The thrill that comes with the thought that I could be caught and shunned for being in love with somebody of the same gender as me? The thrill that came with having to keep who I actually was a secret? It was exhilarating and horrifying.
-
I’m not a homosexual. I never have been. Andrew was the only boy I have ever loved, and he’s also been the only girl I’ve ever loved. Andrew in drag was the only boy I would ever shag. That wasn’t a homosexual thing, right? He looked like a woman. He was dressed as a woman, even if I knew a man lay underneath all of the distractingly pretty makeup and skimpy outfit. The only boy I would ever do anything with was Andrew in drag.
I came to terms with the fact that I would never see Andrew in drag again, even if it almost hurt to admit. No matter how much I wished to see him in such a state again, I knew I never would. And I knew I would never admit my feelings to him, or even myself; I had trouble even confronting them. So maybe I would love him from afar. Maybe I would rewatch videos and look at pictures of him in drag, mindlessly wishing I could see him like that just once more.
I would pine away forevermore for Andrew in drag.