Friday, January 27, 2012

So I think the writing experiment is going well.  I'm only writing one section per day (usually with a natural stopping point), and I've found that I have to make myself stop writing.  I kind of know where the story is going, but I'm not sure of the details yet.

But the best thing?  Writing this has opened the creative doors.  I have multiple cool and unique story ideas now.  Which makes this a success, even before I'm finished with the introduction of the story.  So there's that.

Anyway, here's today's installment:

The Waiting Game

Luckily, the shower incident was near the end of the school year, and I didn’t have to deal with that again that year.  I tried to push it to the back of my mind, and, at times, I managed to forget it.  But eventually, it always cropped back up to rear its ugly head.  

It would happen at the strangest times, too.  I’d be joking with friends, and all of a sudden, there it was.  Once the thought was there, I couldn’t get rid of it, either.  I couldn’t stop thinking of the implications.  Were the other guys more manly than me?  Is that what it meant?  I tried to tell myself that it was silly to think like that.  I knew basic biology.  All it meant was that they had hit puberty before me.  I was a late bloomer, that’s all.

But reason doesn’t stand a chance against blind, unwarranted embarrassment.  Looking back, I guess that’s when my personality really started to develop.  I withdrew into myself.  No one knew my secret, but they didn’t have to.  I knew it, and that was enough.

It wasn’t like I just flipped a switch and became an introvert, though.  I was still me.  I still had friends.  I was just a little…docile.  I was a bit submissive, especially around other boys.  I let them take the lead.  Of course, it wasn’t conscious, and I didn’t even know I was doing it back then.  But in hindsight, I can recognize it for what it was.

Of course, the hallmark of youth is that, well, you’re young.  Anything could be around the next corner.  One day, you’re one thing, and the next, everything has changed.  And that was my most fervent hope.  I told myself that I would certainly hit puberty over the summer break.  I told myself that when we all got into the locker room in High School, that I’d have nothing to hide, that I’d be just another guy.

As it turned out, that’s not exactly what happened.

I grew a little, but nothing like growth spurts my classmates had experienced.  And my…you know…well, it stubbornly stayed the same diminutive size.  In short, that whole puberty thing – it just didn’t come.

And so, I found myself in high school, a petite boy armed only with a tiny penis and an ever-increasing degree of shyness.

When it came time to face the showers in high school, I chose the lesser of two evils.  I knew they’d notice even as I chose not to shower.  I figured I’d get teased, and I was right.  Of course, I tried to play it off by saying things like, “What?  You want to look at my junk?” but even I recognized them as halfhearted attempts at avoiding an embarrassing situation.

So I became the weird little kid who didn’t shower after gym class.

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