#kissing fairies

Bittersweet memories of boyhood sleepovers between us shy friends.

Bittersweet memories of our sleepovers. We shy boys in dresses, kissing all evening long, and then then shortly after lights out, climbing into a friends bed to continue kissing until we fell asleep. Every sleepover we fairies would fall in love all over again.

Memoirs of a fairy’s youth.

On the first day of the 6 months he attended my school, we intuitively knew we were like one another. Softer and more sensitive than all the other boys, and in which, none of them could them could ever know of. When alone together, we were always more affectionate, and on a visit to a local nature reserve, commenting on how lovely various plants and landscapes were, until eventually one of us commented on how on particular thing wasn’t as “lovely as you are”. We then kissed for the first time, spending the day hand in hand.

It was when I looked over the photos of that day at the nature reserve, that I realized, that every single landscape was obscured by us boys kissing

Oh the uncomfortable, confusing emotions, when your first boyhood crush on a teacher, happened to be a man…..

Many of you can relate to the return of a friend during your boyhood. How they had changed.

Where both of you shy boys used to get no homework done, due playing video games, after his return, you would get no homework done, making out all evening.

Having gone to a club for boys with self esteem and social anxiety, I would befriend many shy, delicate boys like myself. I remember how every of our sleepovers would end in the same manner. A room of us boys kissing….. falling in love.

How delirious pleasure and butterflies in my stomach was always mixed with a fear of the local boys along the street, peering through the window, laughing and yelling at us “sissies”.

While all the other boys played sports outside, they never could have imagined how we shy, sensitive friends, liked to wear dresses and kiss. How we so feared that they would find out that we were fairies.

That I always so hated when mother referred to my best friend as my “boyfriend”, insisting that I wasn’t like that, it would only serve to make it all the more mortifying when she would walk in us delicate boys kissing, red faced with embarrassment.

Eventually she would catch us making out with her camera, and to my horror, have the photo framed in our living room. So the following times I asked if my best friend could stay over for the weekend, she would simply stare amused at me, before gesturing with her eyes towards that photo. It wouldn’t be long before huffing and puffing I would give in. Correcting myself, asking if my “boyfriend” could come over.

“Boy will be boys!” mother always used to say…..