To those who search the world all over, only to return home to find it.

Recently, there’s been this guy at work that I’ve been crushing on—Paul. He’s 43, Vietnamese, about chin-height on me, and has one of those smiles that actually reaches his eyes. He’s an exceptionally good worker, and I often find myself feeling safe around him, like everything’s going to be alright.

One time, when we were working together, our hands touched, just for a second, and I felt this tingle running through my body. I couldn’t figure out what the feeling was—until it hit me.

I have a crush on him.

Lately, I’ve also been feeling more confident in myself. You know that feeling when you’re finally comfortable in your own skin? Up until now, only one person at work knew I was gay. But today, I wanted to tell someone else—Jordan.

Jordan’s an interesting guy—friendly, warm, and we’ve always had a good connection. I wanted to talk to someone, anyone, about my feelings toward Paul, and Jordan felt like the right person. So, I asked if he could work with me for a bit. With my heart racing, I told him there was something I needed to say. He was all ears.

I’m gay.

Immediately, I saw this sense of relief wash over him. He told me he’d had a feeling for a long time but didn’t want to say anything. He was just waiting for me to say it first. That made me sigh in relief too. I guess that’s the best-case scenario when you come out—when they already know and have been patiently waiting for you to step out of the closet.

So, I started talking to him about Paul—wondering out loud if he might be gay too. And for the first time, I didn’t feel alone in my thoughts. I finally had someone at work I could share all my “gay shit” with, someone I could be unfiltered around. Jordan’s a good listener. Sure, he judges sometimes—he’s still human—but he listens, and right now, that’s what I need most.

I came up with a plan to figure out if Paul was gay. I’d tell him on Friday that I was going on a date with a guy and watch his reaction. Simple, right?

But then Thursday came.

I was working with Paul when he asked me a question I wasn’t expecting. He asked what’s my dating plan, with a missus… or perhaps a mister? That caught me off guard. But I decided to tell the truth. I actually just broke up with my boyfriend, I told him. And I’m looking to start dating again.

He was surprised but didn’t skip a beat. He asked how long we’d been together. I flipped the question back at him.

He told me the last time he broke up with someone was ten years ago. It took him a year to get over it, and he hasn’t been in love since. Too much work, he said. You pour so much into it, and sometimes, you get nothing back.

Then he dropped another question that shook me a bit.

Have you ever cheated before?

And right there, I had a choice—I could lie, say no, keep up the perfect image. Or I could tell him the truth.

I have, I admitted.

He asked if I got caught.

I did.

Not a very good cheater, are you?

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Later, I asked if he’d ever cheated. He told me no—but said he once dated a girl who was already in a relationship. She was the one cheating, not him.

I don’t get how anyone can juggle two people, he said. It’s too much work with just one.

And he looked straight at me when he said that. Ouch.

In the days that followed, I asked if he’d completely given up on love. No was his answer. But it’s still too much work. 

And that’s when I realized—he’s emotionally unavailable. He’s built up walls, and I’m standing on the other side, hoping they’ll come down. But they won’t. And I know that now.

But that smile. It still flashes in my mind during quiet moments, when I’m all alone.

I’ve caught myself wishing he’d come over at work, ask me how my day’s going, ask how I’m feeling—but he never does. And that makes me sad. But I know now that I’m the one making myself sad. I’ve built him up in my head, idolized him, given him expectations he never agreed to—expectations that don’t reflect who he really is.

The truth is, he’s a good worker, a kind person—but he’s not available, not to me.

And here’s the thing—I thought I was happy because of Paul. I thought he was the reason I was smiling more at work, laughing, feeling more confident. But I was wrong.

There’s a quote I love that says, 

“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.”

I thought I was searching for happiness in Paul—but all along, it was right here.

It was Jordan.

The man who stood by my side. The man I confided in. The man who listened.

And when I eventually leave this factory, I know I’ll miss Jordan most of all.

The best time to realize this was probably two weeks ago.

But hey, the second-best time is now.