Am I Just a Funny Little Man?

At first, I never thought it could be me. The films of my youth promised that I would be Troy Bolton, that I would be Ferris Bueller, that I would be smooth, charming, handsome, and free-spirited. That knowledge has given me confidence throughout all my hard times. But, all that bluster evaporated today. 

There’s this cute girl in my econ class, and I wanted to ask her to formal, so I did. I wanted it, so I did it! Isn’t that how I’m supposed to do things as the main character?! She said yes, but then she continued.

“Oh, this is perfect! I really wanted to go to that formal, but my boyfriend’s out of town and he’s super possessive. But if I go with you, he won’t worry about that!”

I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Why would I make him not worry? I’m a rugged ball of sexual magnetism! That’s what I told her, and she laughed in my face. Laughed. And then she said these words that sent me careening into a spiral of existential dread.

“Magnetism? Oh, that’s so funny! See, you always know how to make me laugh! You’re such a funny little man!”

Funny. Little. Man. Funny little men get half the screen time and half the depth. I don’t understand, I’m not even a minority! This isn’t supposed to happen to guys like me!

They say every friend group has a funny little man. If you don’t know who he is, then you’re him. But I always thought our funny little man was Kyle. He’s always doing crazy shit at parties and cracking up the whole room! I asked Travis about it and he was just like, “Oh yeah, Kyle’s hilarious! But you’re, like, funny, dude. Like, Kyle has other stuff going on. He has a girlfriend and, like, takes classes and stuff” I tried to tell Travis that I actually have a collection of self-published poetry, but he just brushed me off.

And hold on, why did he say that Kyle ‘takes classes’ like I don’t too? Do I only exist to these guys when I’m in the room? Now that I think about it, they only ever text me dumb memes and Venmo requests. Where’s the “What are you up to today?” and the “Hey, wanna grab a meal?” I’m a jester without a face or a name, appearing to make them laugh and then evaporating from their perception.

I flew into a panic. I tried to find anything that could be what made me a funny little man. I tore down my Family Guy x Star Wars poster, ripped off the ironic ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ sign at my door, and threw away the tux that’s too big for me. But after all that, I looked in the mirror, and a funny little man looked back.

It’s me. It’s always going to be me. It’s something about my vibe that just makes me non-threatening to other men. If I ever get a girl, it’s not gonna be the main girl, it’s gonna be her best friend. And she’s probably just gonna be the uptight smart one.

I want to accept myself, but I can’t. Not when this hellish existence is going to ruin my life for the foreseeable future. I just wish I knew what I could change to make this all stop. Is it my hormones? Is it my height?! Is it-

Oh, wait.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, shiiiit.

I’m not a funny little man. I’m not a funny little man at all.

I’m just gay.

— CT ’26