Hi mom. It's me. Beirut Boy.

Wanted to write 1 blog post about 2 guys meeting at a party. Ended up with an 8-part story.

Thought it would be interesting to write a story from a homophobe’s perspective. Ended up adding more layers to him than I expected, eventually feeling sympathy for his tortured soul.

Two weeks ago, I started writing a story about Kareem. Ended up with 10 parts.

Truth is… I can’t shut the fuck up.

Enjoy this one.

“You think he’ll call?”, I ask.

No answer.

“I think he will. He always does. He loves me, doesn’t he?”, I try again.

No answer.

“You’re just a stupid little cat with no answers, aren’t you?”. I give up.

Finally… a “meow”.

I grab her.

“But you’re my stupid little cat. Come here”.

Bisi’s the only thing that’s not judging me right now, unlike my boyfriend. Oh and that nosy neighbor on the 5th. And even if it is judging me, there’s no way of knowing it is. That’s something to be grateful for.

It’s 7:55 am and I have a Forensic Medicine exam in exactly five minutes. But I know I won’t be late. I’m never late for anything. Ever. Learned it the hard way. Time is money. Plus it helps that my university’s right across the street.

I walk out the door. A hop, skip and a jump away from a homeless man on the street and I’m in AUB.

Needless to say, I ace that exam. I always do.

Luckily, my bladder didn’t explode after holding it in for two hours during the exam so I head straight to the bathroom.

I do my thing and walk out.

“Psst”.

I turn around. He’d been waiting for me to get out.

“Kareem, kifak? Long time!”, he says.

“Heyyyy Salim”, I say.

“Where you been? It’s been ages!”.

“It’s been two weeks”, I respond.

“Well, yeah that’s AUB for ya. Fuckin hell. How’s your boyfriend?”

“Joe? He’s doin well, man”, I reply.

“Gosh, I haven’t seen him in…”

“Ages. Me too. With all the studying… I’m not being able to see anyone”.

“Well, let’s be honest you’ve never been the outgoing type anyway. We’ve known you for 3 years and we’ve hung out for what… three times?”

I smile. “You’re right. I’m just always busy”.

“Well, anyway. We should do something soon. I’ll hit you up. Say hi to Joe.”

“Sure, wosil”.

It’s always the same story. People telling me I’m never around. And it’s the truth. I’m not. But how could I? I look at Salim as he walks away. He’s actually a great guy. Too nice. Under different circumstances, we could have been great friends.

Suddenly, my pocket vibrates and wakes me up from my daze; a reminder on my phone titled “Hussein Jnah 10 pm”. Ah, phone reminders. How did we get through life before you? With all the shit goin on, I don’t know how I would function without my alarms.

I rush home and get ready for the meeting.

The usual. The trimming. The shaving. The waxing. The grooming. The gel. The clothes. It’s hard to be gay. The hard part is trying to make it look easy. But I guess with each meeting, it gets easier and easier.

I look in the mirror. He’s gonna like this.

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Read Part 2 here.

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