As They Say - (Revised) - 20. Entry 28

24th May 1991:

Just wow, I don’t think I could have asked for a better night in all my life than what transpired last night. I mean, me and Ross shared a tent and talked all night, though I'll get to that in a moment.

I'm majorly tired right now; my eyes are burning so every couple of seconds, it's best to shut them so that they stop the stinging. Though, hey, it was worth it.

I got to hear Ross open up a little bit after everyone else was asleep.

So, since my previous diary entry yesterday evening, we camped out in the back garden. I didn’t think the night would go off without a hitch, but it did. Everyone came prepared with sleeping bags and food, which we munched on all night. I found out that Ross loves strawberry candy. His grandmother had bought him a bag of Haribo jellies, and he ate pretty much every single strawberry sweet from it.

Ross was popping them back like pills.

I think Ross didn't realise he was eating them that quickly because the discussions for most of the night was high energy, combined with tremendous amounts of sarcasm and stick. I mean, there we were sitting around in the backyard playing some music, talking about games, girls, comics, and life in general.

The light conversing made me feel at home in the group, and I think Ross thought it too. I think it made him feel more welcomed than the first time. Even though the guys were fantastic the first time; I think the second time around made Ross feel certain. The guys are not fake; they are just welcoming Ross into the group, no questions asked, and I'm proud to know them for the way they handled it. The first time Ross met the guys, he was a little standoffish and a little nervous; the second time wasn't as bad.

Ross competed with Eli; I think both of them have some unspoken lingo because the two of them were pretty pally. The two of them were talking, acting the way Carl and I do—as if they were old-time friends. Then again, Eli is that sort of person; he is just a cute, easygoing guy.

Right… I just called Eli cute!

That has never really happened before, so let's make sure it doesn't happen again. It feels weird to call Eli cute because he is anything but. Wait… that sounded horrible; Eli's attractive, I mean. But he is my friend, so it feels wrong to think of him that way.

So, I won't.

No more thinking of Eli this way!

We sat around in a circle and began to tell stories. I never realised before how good a storyteller Carl is until he narrated a tale about a sad and lonely man, followed by a psycho killer on the loose in the countryside. I guess I’d be lying if I said it didn't in the least make me feel uncomfortable. All throughout the night, I kept thinking about the story and half expected a crazed killer to slash open the tent and gut me. Though I'd happily sacrifice myself if it saved Ross.

What hours I lost to sleep, I spent looking at Ross. He was so close, closer than the evening before. I could have leaned in and kissed him, but of course, I was too chicken. Ross had fallen asleep facing me, and I could feel his light breathing grazing my cheek every time he exhaled.

I have never lost so much sleep over someone.

I couldn't go asleep. Ross was just perfect; he is just as beautiful sleeping as he is awake. Though how could you even compare his angelic appearance when he is sleeping with when he's awake. Ross is something unique; it’s like he makes my day when I see him.

I want to kiss him.

What would one kiss do?

Admittedly, I could have pretend that I was just curious, and then one thing led to another, and I ended up kissing Ross. That could work, right?

Of course not… I'm stupid. If I kissed Ross, he'd push me away and call me names, or if he didn't then, he would surely avoid me for being so gay.

Though before Ross fell asleep, the conversation between the two of us felt magical. I think it is possibly the best conversation I've ever had of my young life. Everything was just perfect; the way Ross just lay there and spoke effortlessly was enough to give me the wobblies in my stomach.

God, Ross is flawless; I have no idea what he does or how he manages to do it; he just is. Ross makes me feel special on the inside. It felt like nothing else mattered; it was just him and me against the world, and anything that existed outside the tent didn't exist at all.

Ross seems to be talking with me now. I wonder what got into him the other day?

But after all the boys had gone to their respective tents to sleep, Ross and I went to ours. Even that has a ring to it— ours. We were already dressed in our sleepwear, so we just got straight into the sleeping bags. Naturally, the two of us merely faced each other as a small conversation turned into something that I don't think I'll ever forget.

Ross whispered, "Do you like me?"

You could say that caught me off guard. I turned to look at him, and my heart began to pummel my chest. I was like, oh God. My mind began to work itself into a frenzy.

What did Ross mean by that? Did Ross mean, do I actually like-like him? Did Ross mean do I like him as a person?

Yes, to both. Then again, I was too chicken to say, ‘Yes, I love you.’

Instead, I just began to stutter there like the messed-up retard I am.

All I could get out of my mouth was, "Yea… yeah… sure I like… I mean, you're a cool…"

Ross immediately smiled and started giggling. It was cute how the blanket was tucked under his chin, and he was cocooned. You know, now while I think of it, I must've sounded stupid, and that's why Ross laughed. He just grinned, and then a smile bestowed his face, and he turned onto his back and faced up to the ceiling of the tent. Eventually, Ross took off hysterically laughing. Now and then, Ross would throw out a snort and laugh even harder.

I felt embarrassed.

After Ross calmed down, gaining control of his giggling fit, he then glanced back over at me. Ross was so cute just lying there, so snug in his sleeping bag. Ross had it all the way up to his neck.

Aww... he was just adorable.

Ross glanced over at me for a couple of seconds, and then he became quiet. Contemplating for a moment, the smile faded from Ross's face. He took a moment to figure out the words he presumably wanted to say.

Ross said, "I think I like it here."

I wasn't sure what Ross meant by that, but I guess I'd like it here as well if it wasn't as dead. There is literally nothing to do other than hang around with people with whom you probably went to school with for the last ten years. If you quarrel with someone, you don't talk or associate yourself with that particular group or person.

On the downside, if word gets out about something, the whole town knows by the following day. If I were to come out and say that I’m gay, the entire village would know by the next day. That is not something I exactly want to say out loud to anybody, not even my friends.

But anyway, I just said, "Really? You like it here?"

There must have been some contempt in my voice because Ross just gave me a quizzical stare, and I knew I had to rephrase it. "What I mean is… it's just like... nothing fun ever happens around here. Legitimately, you are the funniest thing that has happened here since last summer.”

You know what he did? Ross propped himself up on his elbow, grinned meekly before glancing down at the gap between our two sleeping bags and blushed.

You have no idea how cute it is to see him smile. Ross doesn't even need to say anything to make him even cuter; he's just naturally charming.

Is that crazy? Am I going crazy? Yeah, I think I'm going crazy.

So, Ross leaned on his elbow and peeked back up at me and then the two of us caught eyes with each other, and he just kept on looking at me. And I looked at Ross. The odd silence between us unsettled me in a way I've never been disturbed before. We could hear the other boys in the tents vaguely talking. Still, whatever they were discussing, I didn't care and whatever was happening outside the tent felt like it was another world altogether compared to what was going on inside our tent.

Ross bit his lower lip; then I got nervous. My heart pummelled in my chest, and I had to lay down. Turning onto my back, I glanced up at the roof of the tent, hearing the whoosh of blood rush through my ears. I felt like my eyes were going too well up, and suddenly I was going to start crying. I'm not sure why, but my mind was fucked. I wanted to tell him how much he means to me. Ross is perfect in every sense of the word. I hope he never changes, and I hope whatever he's going through with his parents gets resolved soon. Something like this should not happen to good people.

Even though I still hardly know Ross, I feel like I've known him a lot longer than I have actually know him. I know we haven't talked about anything serious other than where he’s from and his mother and father's marital status.

Last night was the first time I felt like I made a connection, even though we didn't say all that much. Ross just made my evening even more special by letting me spend it with him.

"Am I really that fun?" Ross sheepishly added.

Glancing down to my lap in the sleeping bag, I secretly scolded myself for mentioning how cool Ross is. Sure, he is pretty awe-inspiring, but I gave him too much information about how much I love having him around. So, I just shrugged my shoulders.

I said, "Sure, you're cool to be with."

Ross glanced down at his sleeping bag and said, "It's good hanging out with you too."

I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it felt like that the two of us had spoken something that neither of us wanted to say accurately. I felt like there was magic in the air, and it felt pretty incredible. The two of us chatted mindlessly for about 40 minutes— nonstop about food, dead pets, and if we had ever dated anybody.

“No dating… No… But you know… I made this friend last year at scout camp,” Ross said.

Intrigued, I side glanced at Ross, then said, “Really? What was that like?”

“He was special, but, I kinda liked the special. But he turned out to be a dick,” Ross said.

I didn’t know where this conversation was going, but I still wanted to find out.

“Sorry to hear about that,” I added.

I had wished I said something else, something to keep the conversation alive, but Ross ended it with something I found strange.

“I think you’re special, but, you won’t be dick, right?” Ross asked.

I shifted my head, wondering if he was serious. Seeing the look of yearning in his eyes, I caved, then nodded. We got onto talking about other stuff. However, the previous conversation lingered in the back of my mind.

What does this special mean?

Did it mean Ross had experimented with another boy, and now he was asking if I was special.

I found out if Ross was given the option between a pair of blue and red converse, he'd take the red. Ross hates peanut butter but loves jam, and he's never had a girlfriend. I was careful to ask this question during our interrogation.

Out of nowhere, while gazing at the ceiling, Ross just softly murmured, "I like-like you."

I froze there on the spot; I kept my eyes directed at the roof. I was expecting Ross to move closer to me and say something else, but he didn't. Ross stayed perfectly still, and the rays reflecting off the patio light cast shadows around inside the tent. I turned my head ever so slightly, and I peered over at him. Ross was there, perfectly still but still awake. All I could make out was the iris of his eyes. Other than that, Ross was just this small silhouette of white mass.

The way his breathing was so laboured, I sensed nervousness and a little bit of shame. I can't describe how to write it, though it felt as if he was resentful for saying what he had said. So, I decided to stare back at him; the two of us apparently knew what he had said. I didn't say anything back; I was too afraid. Instead, I shifted my position in the bed and glanced over at Ross, then placed my hand on his shoulder and rubbed.

That's the last thing I remember; I think I fell asleep after that.

I'm a little annoyed at myself; sure, I should've said something. I should've taken Ross's offering, and I should've told him how happy and confused he makes me. I think something about last night, the way the two of us stared at each other, makes me feel insecure. I fell asleep hoping that Ross would kiss me. Maybe the two of us fell asleep waiting for the other one to make a move.

Reality seems to be sinking in for me, and I don’t feel so much alone. If Ross has the same feelings as me, I'm not the only one confused. Of course, I should've told him. I don't think I'll ever get another chance to say it. Maybe Ross was trying to give me a chance last night, and I exclusively chickened out; I didn't give him the reaction he deserved. I don't know what is happening to me right now; it feels like my heart is full. I feel a little better about myself, but I'm frustrated that I didn't do shit. I missed my chance to tell the only boy I've ever really liked, actually scratch that—the only person I have ever admired— how I feel.

I have a couple of things to do. If I meet Ross. I’ll fill you in later. That’s If I find a moment to tell Ross how I feel, I'll try and explain it to him. I can't guarantee I'll do it, but I'll try.

Anyway, later,

Adam