I Dated a Closeted Gay Man
The experience changed me forever
How we met
He was cute though not quite handsome. Polite but not exactly well-polished. Smart but not necessarily intelligent. He had a friendly but determined demeanor; his glasses flowed nicely with his smile, balancing his “nerd” appearance and youthful looks.
Roderick — a translation of his actual name, close enough to ensure his privacy while allowing me the morphological analysis — was not mighty but dreamed of being. He did not rule, although he tried to be a leader. He was not admired but connected well with people who inspired him. I seemed to be one of those: a muse.
His insecurity was apparent when rather than flirting with me, he stared at me when he thought I could not notice. He smiled at me with his eyes. We bumped into each other way too frequently — I am sure he planned our “unexpected” encounters. He confided in a friend about having a crush on me. That friend hinted to me about his interest. I decided to make it easy for him to make a move by sticking around a little longer when we were in the same place at the same time and even inviting him to my parties.
I was not interested in him romantically as much as I was intrigued by his platonic ways. It never occurred to me that one’s sexuality could be an obstacle to…
