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I thought everything would click into place as soon as I stepped foot onto campus. My whole life geared up to this moment. The moment in my long life when everything changes and I become the man everybody wants me to be. To work harder than ever. To prove myself worthy to a suitable partner I am expected to marry. To pave a path to a family of my own. However, the truth hit me harder than I expected it to. Nothing actually changed when I became a student at Backupsmore.
There is a black hole inside of me where love is supposed to inhabit. I pretend not to notice how classmates ogle at others, get involved in tiresome relationships, make out, and repeatedly cry over men and women, but how can I not witness this? I also cannot deny my discomfort at people mentioning what they do with their partners in the most descriptive manner… When I expressed my confusion and irritation at their choosing to chase after relationships and get their hearts broken for the umpteenth time rather than just focus on their studies, they would gape at me. They are appalled that I simply do not understand their plight. I keep getting told that I have not found the right person yet.
This is something I started to tell myself…after all, I was told this before going away for my degree.
Then, there was my roommate. I could have wept because I could have sworn I started to fall for him after some months by his side. He is so incredibly brilliant. He rivals my quips and equations like no other. Of course, there are some quirks from his upbringing I am not awfully fond of… I am not sure that matters. I think I love him, but some things just do not make sense to me. It is killing me.
It was on this day that I found myself spiraling into a pit of despair over this predicament. The fluorescent lights of the desk lamp buzzed angrily as I violently drummed my fingers across the wooden table. My knee bounces much like Fiddleford’s does during a particularly rough patch. I feel like I am either going to vomit or pass out, the crazed fog in my brain overtakes me. I think I started to hyperventilate because I barely missed my roommate’s hands on my shoulders.
“Hey, can you hear me? Stanford?” a voice drifted somewhere in the haze.
I could not answer, my voice buried in the gasps of air I took. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I felt ashamed at this display of weakness. Fiddleford must think less of me. My only companion… I will lose him too, right? He would think even less if he learned what a heartless person I am. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks in a burning vengeance.
“Oh, Stanford…c’mere,” Fiddleford wrapped his arms around me.
The surprise of the hug made me shudder. I think I melted into it at some point. We stayed like that for what felt like hours.
“Fidd…” a raspy murmur escaped my lips after a while.
Fiddleford hummed in response, gently untangling from my torso. I found myself missing the warmth. He grounded me when I soared up into the clouds. His river-blue eyes met mine, patience bled from them. I must have looked like a complete and utter mess to him. So much for solidifying my cool image here. I might as well toss the rest in now. Get it over with.
“I’m sorry…” I mustered out.
Fiddleford’s face screwed up, baffled at my response.
“What’re you sorry for, silly?” amusement present alongside his thick Appalachian accent.
Time to rip off the bandage.
“I fear there might be something wrong with me… I fear I might be broken, Fiddleford,” I wept once more.
Fiddleford frowned, sat down, and patted the spot next to him on the carpeted floor. I followed without another word. I was exhausted. Showing this much emotion made me feel like death itself. Maybe I was doing it all wrong. I just did not know.
“Stanford…now, I don’t know what you got wrapped up inside that big noggin of yours to make you think that, but it’s simply not true. You hear?” Fiddleford said.
I felt numb. I didn’t want to listen to his words. I nodded anyway.
“Can…can you tell me why exactly you feel this way?”
Letting out a mammoth of a sigh, I reluctantly began to explain my whole ordeal. This was difficult and unlike trying to detail a theory I came up with. Doing this made me feel as if the claws of a mythical beast swooped in, ripped out my insides, leaving me raw and bleeding. The worst part eventually came.
“I…uh, Fiddleford,” I coughed out, “I know you might hate me for what I’m about to say…”
“Stanford-”
“No, just-just let me say it… I think I love you Fiddleford…” I choked out.
Fiddleford inhaled sharply, a watery smile cut across his face. It broke my heart into a million different pieces. He looks relieved. Perhaps this would be easier if he was disgusted.
“But…I don’t think it’s the kind of love people always talk about… I don’t know if I’m a homosexual, however, the more I think about it… It must be something else. If that is even an option,” I rambled out, horror coated my words.
“Asexual…?” Fiddleford responded.
My mind froze at that.
“Asexual?” I rolled the word in my mouth.
“I believe it’s a term for folks like yourself… Those are uninterested in uh sexual activity or lack sexual attraction or something another…” Fiddleford almost looked embarrassed, his hand scratched the back of his neck.
I was stunned. There is a term…for how I am? I’m…not broken? Maybe it’s a diagnosis? Should I seek psychiatric help? I would rather not…
“Huh…how do you know of such a term?” I found myself asking instead.
Fiddleford’s jaw snapped shut with a click. My roommate suddenly seemed to find the window incredibly fascinating. The man’s fingers twitched nervously. I came to a realization.
Oh.
Can it be?
“Fidd…are you-?”
“Oh! No! Heavens no-well I mean not heavens no, but rather… Ugh, geez,” Fiddleford blurted out, “I’m not asexual.”
Disappointment curled around me like a vicious boa constrictor finding a snack. Fear joined in. Why did he look so happy before, then?
“Oh.”
We fidgeted awkwardly on the floor, only an inch or two from each other. This was a miserable thirty seconds of suffocating silence before it finally broke.
“I am a queer, though,” Fiddleford said.
For some reason, that moment made me burst into manic laughter. Tension melted completely away when Fiddleford joined in. I am sure the people in the dorms next to ours thought we were lunatics because we laughed loudly. Although, I am sure they already thought of us as a couple of freaks and mad scientists by now. I guess they are not entirely off, per se… It should have been clear by now that I did not fit the mold in ways that did not include his polydactyl.
“I guess I am queer as well…or well, specifically asexual I suppose.”