This story was inspired by Pink Panther’s Once Upon A Heterosexual Time.

I’ve had quite the dating history ever since I became sexually aware and knew that I’m the relationship kinda guy. I have dated the occasional single gay man, the gay man who got married and had me as one of his grooms men and after the wedding never took my calls again, the late bloomer who realized his homosexuality after he kissed me, the married gay man who lied to his eldest son that I am someone he just took an interest in for the sake of a budding musical career (yes of course we were making music). It has been a roller coaster ride of relationships in the search for Mr. Right.

But today’s story is about the relationship with the one who’s not quite my boyfriend. Confused? Yea, I am too, most of the time.

For the purpose of this story, I’ll refer to him as Obinna.

The first time I met Obinna was in my first year in the university. I was at an audition to join the music department of the happening entertainment crew in the university then. I could do me some Mariah Carey-worthy notes, and I figured I’d start fashioning my university social status by being a part of what I’m good at.

When it got to my turn to audition, I got up with all the confidence of someone who has been singing all his life. Little did I know that the Olympian gods were about to punish me with a burning love for someone who would never be mine (I wonder who among them I’d offended). I’d gotten up on the dais and was handling the mic, ready to belt out some notes, when in walked Obinna, the person I soon got to know was the leader of the crew. He was this incredible good looking young man, whose charm not only lay in his handsomeness but in the self confidence that you could just perceive from him. Seeing him then for the first time wasn’t my undoing. My doom happened when he looked at me straight in the eyes and smiled at something a crew member was telling him. His gaze hit my soul instantly and that smile seemed like the light in the darkness I didn’t even know I was stumbling through. My breath caught, and I momentarily forgot the song I was about to sing. Not the lyrics to the song – the entire song!

As I mentally scrambled to remember my business on that stage, I knew I was in trouble with this stranger.

I eventually gathered my wits about me and did my performance. Expectedly, I got into the crew, and subsequently became good friends with Obinna. He was older than me by a couple of years, and so doted on me like an elder brother would his younger sibling. I hated that, but it was going to have to do. Better the agape relationship than nothing at all, half bread and all that jazz. Plus it was an added advantage that he loved my voice so much that he’d always boast to his friends that he had the best singer in university for a brother.

For a brother! (sigh) I was lusting after this guy and all the show of affection I could get was the brotherly hug or affectionate pat on the head. It was frustrating. However I had no idea how much more frustrating it was going to get.

Obinna was really good to me. He stood up for me when some of his friends taunted me about some of my effeminate characteristics. He actually fought with someone because the person had called me a faggot in his presence. He was the ever-protective friend; even his friends in the crew started accord me some kind of respect because of him.

I was in my third year in the university when he graduated. Life without him around expectedly got miserable, especially because he left the East and returned to Lagos. The distance began messing heavily with my emotions, and on one of the nights while we were chatting, I came out to him. I didn’t stop there; I went on to tell him how much I loved him and wanted him. He responded to my coming out by chuckling and saying he already knew I’m gay, and was just waiting for me to pick up the courage to tell him.

Well, all was seeming great, right? I would now go on to have his babies, right? Wrong! He went on to clarify that he is straight. This broke my heart. In all my years of loving and leaving men, I’d never fallen so deeply for a heterosexual man. How could this happen to me?

I somehow carried on with life and my close platonic friendship with Obinna. I dated other guys, and somehow, he bestowed me with more care and love than these lovers. He even started vetting my boyfriends and telling me who he thought would be a scumbag and who was good for me. Yes, we got cool like that.

Finally I graduated and it was time to go to Law School. And as luck would have it, I got posted to Lagos, the very place he resided. When I got the news, I called him and the joy I heard from his end of the phone call was such that I’d never heard. He was just as pleased with the prospect of seeing me again as I was of seeing him.

I came to Lagos, settled in, and the first weekend I had free, I visited him. That weekend elevated our ‘relationship’ to a whole new level of intimacies. In the daytime, we did everything together, and at night, on his bed, we slept in each other’s arms, cuddled tightly and not having sex. On Saturday night, we even had a threesome with a girl, and still, in those passionate moments, he didn’t touch me much. I felt myself bruising inwardly from all he was willing to give, and all he couldn’t give that I desperately wanted.

I know this is a recipe for a chaotic life but I love him so much. I remember once telling him (again) that I loved him. This time, he responded by saying he loved me too, adding ‘…even more than my girlfriend.’ This he has actually proven overtime, canceling dates with her if I happen to need him at the same moment. The first he did that and I queried him for it, he simply laughed and said, “If only these girls knew that the position they are looking for is already occupied by you.”

This is coming from a straight guy who hasn’t done so much as kiss me. I’d actually spent a night in his arms clad in nothing but the briefest underwear, and he didn’t get any more intimate than the hand he kept around my shoulder. You can imagine the craziness of it all!

Most recently, he gets jealous when I tell him about the guys I get with. And he doesn’t bother with hiding his jealousy. (sigh) It’s all very confusing and yet exhilarating, to know you have so much power and yet so little dominion over the man you desire.

At the moment, I do not know where we are headed. But I am pretty certain that I am not going anywhere, and that he is not either. What keeps me to his side is this inextinguishable hope that someday soon, he’ll make an honest ‘woman’ out of me. Lol.

Written by Queen Blue Fox

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