The Boy With The Lips

I looked around my house and wondered how in the hell there were multiple, completely naked gay boys running around. Never mind the full size canoe that now sat in the middle of the dining room, or the fact that the sun was coming up and we were all still in full swing (literally and figuratively). And why in the hell is that naked Boy With The Lips kissing the naked boy that was there for me!?

My inner monologue was all, "WHORE! BITCH! ASSHOLE! Sneaky little bastard, I will hate you for all eternity!!"

As the sunlight returned, so did the sense of morality, thus clothes were put back on and the house was left empty for me to solve the mysteries of what in the hell had happened in the past five hours.

Jump ahead a few weeks to a normal party, aka everyone kept their pants on, and the Boy with the Lips had returned! I was shocked in my overly-dramatic drunk state that anyone could have invited him after what he'd done.

Rage! Betrayal! Passive aggressive and fake friendly conversation to see if he had slept with my guy!!

He had. I hated him even more and cried to my friends like someone had just stolen my first born.

Sidenote: Me drunk = Extremely happy, extremely sad, or extremely blacked out.

Somehow the Boy With The Lips made more appearances in my friend group, and through our mutual hatred of the boy who screwed us both over, we became friends! By week three we were locked in a three-way kiss in the backyard at some Halloween party and I was doing body shots off him on someone's kitchen table.

Ah, forgiveness.

I found the Boy With The Lips and I actually had a lot in common and so opened up to him more and showed him I was a gay to be trusted. 

After months of conquering the social scene with the Boy With The Wigs, the Boy With The Lips and I had became best friends and were constantly together. To help both of us out financially, he eventually moved in to my place where we shared a room and became a weird hybrid of best friends/brothers/married couple where we'd be like, "I'm mad at you today, so leave me alone, but let's go to Sonic first."

We'd do anything for each other. I'd become furious when someone hurt him, and he held me the day the Woman Who Shaped Me died. He stood beside me and the Boy With My Blood as family and strangers lined up to hug us at the funeral, all of them assuming he was my boyfriend.

The Boy With The Lips taught me to always give someone another chance because you never know if they could end up being one of the closest friends you've ever had, and we now have a bond that I believe will outlast the majority of the relationships I develop in my life.