by Camus. Excelled read, I highly recommend.
A distant ex of mine used to accuse me of being 2% gay based on a phenomenon that she noticed back then, that many have noticed before and since:
I hit it off with almost every gay man that I meet- no flirting, or fake bullshit- just genuine warmth and friendship.
I hit it off similarly well with women who are exclusively into other women, assuming I have some kind of introduction from a trusted mutual. They’re often more closed off and defensive, which I totally understand, no aspersions cast AT ALL there, but with guards lowered I find a lot of laughter.
With women and gay men thoughts have a very chaotic fluidity to them, which churn and stir undescribed in this cloud between the two of us, obscuring objective meaning and allowing us both to draw whatever we wish to see from it, while still maintaining connection. A connection of pure feeling, with the specifics of how to arrive at that feeling somewhat veiled, necessarily.
With men and gay women thoughts are crystal clear, and synchronized. It’s the feelings that churn undescribed in a cloud between the two of us. It’s an interesting dichotomy. I wonder if anyone else experiences this?
I don’t think it has much to do with why I get along better with gay folks than I typically do with straight folks, despite being straight myself.
I think being an outcast is what makes that happen. Not directly. Not through camaraderie, but through an indirect mechanism of it. If there is one thing I, or any outcast I imagine wants, it’s to be known and accepted.
Known and accepted. Why? It’s the only path to not being alone.
The most telltale sign of an outcast isn’t what you think. They aren’t the people with their noses down lost in propaganda like you imagine. At least not most of them.
The true sign of an outcast you can see immediately. Within 5 seconds of meeting them. Their eyes will be wide open, but soft. Not blank doe eyes, but not sharp predatory eyes either. Something in the middle. Something that feels mischievous, even though it isn’t.
It’s just desperate openness. A full throated and constant willingness to be seen and known, completely compulsory based on a lifetime of not having it, and the inversion of fear that occurs in adulthood- from “what if they see me?” to “what if no one sees me?”
I promise the warmest people you meet, the most generous and genuine, the most eager and willing to help types that you know- that you might think hold the world together- actually feel very far away from it, and everyone deep down.
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