Elias Alizadeh, sixteen and a half

Ch 1: On fags, girls and WTF

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I've never seen myself as gay. Never even thought about it.

"Fag" has been a curse word as far as I'm concerned, something one just throws out as a random insult, without any special meaning to it.

I've never known anyone who's gay, (although I probably have, without being aware of it) never had anything against homosexuals either.
It really hasn't been a topic that has been brought up in any deeper sense in any circumstance other than in a slightly mocking way in the jargon amongst friends or in school.

I've never had a deep identity crisis about my sexuality, not even thought about anything like that really.
I guess I've never been all that interested. Maybe a late bloomer or something like that.
Yup. You heard me correctly. Virgin. And I don't even care, even though I might not exactly feel like parading the streets or school, shouting all over the place that I'm chaste and untouched.
I've just never been very interested in chasing after chicks even if that seems to be what is expected from me. (And every other guy, it seems.)

Sure I've had "girlfriends" as a kid, like everyone did. But it was innocent enough to not even necessarily need to hang out, and definitely not doing anything naughtier than playing with Lego. I think that was just a thing that was supposed to be done since all kids did it. Training for the life as an adult? Or something like that. The cute stuff that parents giggle about and find adorable.

Not that I've had any lack of willing girlfriend material. Or, to put it really bluntly – practice material for becoming The Exotic Lover that people just automatically seem to assume that I am, for some weird reason that I can't comprehend. Girls have always been chasing me and still do.
And I have no idea why. I'm completely baffled and wouldn't even have noticed the poor girls if it wasn't for my friends, and especially Alex (who seems to find my oblivious innocence very amusing) had made me aware of the fact.

At first, I was stunned. Now - pretty irritated about the whole thing. But since the girls really haven't done anything wrong, I try hard to not be rude or mean.

Though, I really can't get what they see in me, since I'm a pretty grumpy person. Or well, maybe not exactly grumpy, but at least quiet and a bit introvert. Even kind of distant, except for with my closer friends.

But girls seem to like that. The "Edward-complex", which Alex's sis' Nanna calls it. Referring to the sullen vampire in Twilight.
Apparently girls like the suffering poet kind of guys. Exciting and mysterious types.
Or something like that, from what I've understood from Nanna's elaborate explanations about girls' preferences regarding suitable boyfriend material.
Well, whether I'm a cranky vampire or a depressive poet, I still ignore the fluttering eyelashes as much as I can.

None of the girls that has been after me, has ever interested me, but I can't really say that it's something I've thought about.
I guess I've just assumed that I'm picky and that the right person will appear eventually.

I don't know.

Sure, I've made out with girls at parties and stuff, but not very much more than that and truth be told – it really wasn't all that interesting.
Not as exciting as I had expected, after listening to my friends go on about it.
Why it wasn't – I've never really pondered closer upon.

Perhaps I should've pondered a bit more upon if something might be wrong with me, considering that a huge part of all my guy friends' lives, seem to revolve about the size of this or that whoever-celeb's tits or which girl went down on whom in the bathroom at the last party. 

I mean – why am I not fixated on that stuff, when everyone else seem to be?
The girls go around sending me sultry looks and probably wouldn't be opposed to dragging me into a room with a bed if I'd just encouraged them a little bit. But I've never felt like doing that.