Page 8 of Don't Look Down

So now we’ve established that I didn’t set out to make a new friend, but I need to be clear here forreasons.I didn’t intend to start our friendship shrouded in lies. But…was it really a lie, though? After that first conversation, he was gone so fast I couldn’t even begin to contemplate telling him I’m a pro hockey player.

And believe it or not, it didn’t come up again in subsequent conversations. When we started talking about loving hockey? Now that’s another story. Another golden opportunity when I could have said,“Oh hey, funny story, Sky, I play for your favorite team. You can call me Spencer or Spence if you prefer, but I'd rather you keep calling me Landon.”

But I didn’t.

I could have said anything to tell him who I am, but I said not one word. Except to agree with him about favorite players, and discuss recent games and awesome plays.

I trust him, but I’m scared he’ll see me differently. In my heart, I know he’s not like that. But trusting the wrong person has gotten me into trouble before.

So even though I didn’t really lie per se, it feels like it. It’s a clear-cut case of omission. Lie by omission? Technically speaking. Right? Well, maybe more accurately I should sayliesby omission, since he also doesn’t know my sexuality either.

Ugh.

If I tell him who I am, he’ll immediately know my sexuality since he’s a fan. All of my secrets unearthed in one shot.

Although, one could argue, we’re not entitled to know each other’s sexual identity. It’s not like Ihaveto divulge my sexuality. Straight people don’t have to. Regardless, I’ve also never hidden who I am before. Until now.

My bisexuality isn’t a secret or something I’m ashamed of. I’ve always been an out and proud bisexual man. I didn’t hide in the NCAA, and I refused to hide in the NHL. My mom always taught me to love who I am and be proud of who I am. Never hide. I’ve always embraced that. Until now.

Considering the generation my mom grew up in, it truly surprises me how open, loving, and accepting she was. I should call her and unload these thoughts on her.

Something about Sky put me on guard, which is such a weird feeling, because I’ve also been very open with him in ways I hesitate with others. At my core, I trust him, but I’m scared. And that just doesn’t make any sense to me. I guess that’s what has me so unsettled.

We’ve been talking openly for so long now, but I just can’t figure out how to dig myself out of this hole I bury myself deeper in with each conversation.

I have to find a way.

I open the app and pull up our chats, hoping I’ll find some answers hidden amidst the endless sea of words. Scrolling aimlessly while overthinking everything.

He’s just my friend. Why can’t I stop thinking about him? Why can’t I settle my thoughts?My heart is beating a touch too fast.Why can't I calm down?

My nerves are all over the place. All I have to do is tell him.

Rip the Band-Aid off. It’s not that hard.

It’s easy, right?

At least it should be.

For now, I settle on sending Sky a message to check in and ask what he’s up to. I have no clue how long it’ll take him to respond. He might not see the message for hours depending on his notification settings.

Assuming he’s not a psycho like me who downloaded the app for the express purpose of ensuring I don't miss his messages.

I am not a needy man.

Thisisnotme, although all evidence currently points to the contrary.

But this shit has me feeling all kinds of fucked up and needy.

For my friend.

Before I let myself overthink it any further, I type out a casual text. Just a simple message so there’s no pressure or anything.

LandonTheBull:Yo.

There we go. Perfect. Super casual.

Am I being too casual? Fucking Christ.

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