Jacobs’s Gaydar Diary
Ugh, another day, another existential crisis fueled by my own reflection? I know, it sounds ridiculous. But here I am, post-gym, standing in my stupid studio apartment, staring at myself in the mirror. Usually, I just shower and crash, but today, the light was hitting just right, highlighting the definition in my arms, the way my chest curves… I’ve never really looked at myself like this before. Usually, it’s just a quick glance, but today… it was different.
It wasn’t even about vanity, I don’t think. It was more like… appreciation? It was like noticing a sculpture I suddenly found fascinating. And that’s weird, right?
Speaking of weird, Mr. Evans. My photography teacher. He is just something else. Tall, with this perpetually amused glint in his eyes. He’s been giving me these looks. Not the creepy kind, more like are you interested? Like he’s trying to figure me out. And honestly? I think I’ve started doing the same to him. He was showing me how to experiment with aperture yesterday. His hand brushed mine adjusting the settings and I swear I felt something. It’s probably my imagination, right? But I found myself lingering a second longer than necessary, my arm hair practically standing on end.
Then, during critique, he complimented my eye for composition. He said I had a natural talent for capturing the mood of a subject. He didn’t just say it to the class, but looked directly at me, that same knowing glint in his eyes. It almost felt… intimate?
Gaydar Beefcake
I’ve always been the regular Seattle guy, dated artsy girls, even got engaged once the whole shebang. Never even considered the thought of being attracted to a man is blowing my mind. But these feelings… they’re not just passing fancies. They’re insistent.
My gaydar, which I didn’t even know I had until now, seems to be screaming that Mr. Evans might be on my team. And that’s kinda terrifying and exciting all at once.
I guess this is what it feels like to really start seeing yourself, and maybe, just maybe, start seeing someone else, in a whole new light. Time to do some serious soul-searching, and probably a whole lot of research.
Wish me luck, diary. I think I’m going to need it.
