Coming Out to Myself, Part Three

Having spent two years of my life telling people to answer the feelings they found in their heart and to heed to the answers of prayers, I only had one choice: I flirted back. I looked into his blue eyes, admired his physical features and intelligence, and knew why I had been unhappy: I hadn't let myself feel. My heart gyrated the rest of the night. Not out of worry or shame, but out of hope and satisfaction for the bit of my life which now felt resolved.

After dinner, we called it a night and said our goodbyes and our "nice to meet yous" as we were accustomed to doing. On the drive home that night, my heart continued to sputter with questions. We reminisced a little and discussed the night. I asked a few pointed questions testing the water. "What do you think of Grey?", "Do you think he's gay?", etc. Everyone had picked up on his flirting, but having known me for six years my sexuality didn't seem to be in question. In fact, they felt comfortable enough to tease me about the flirting and our future together only leading to stronger palpitations.

As soon as I'd dropped off the last of the friends who had gone with me, I immediately pulled out my phone and texted my best friend thanking him for inviting us and introducing me to Grey and his other friends. He immediately replied back (more aware of what had taken place that I'd anticipated), "He's a good one. Very well-informed." And a bit later, "Grey asked for your cell number. I sent it to him. Hopefully you won't mind?" Naturally, I didn't and things turned out for the better.