Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be like everybody else…
And then I realize I wouldn’t want that at all. Not fuck at all.
_____
I walk into his suburban home (for the first time) –
it’s cozy and the furniture appears more stylish than comfortable –
the barstools at the breakfast nook counter are nicely modern and colorful –
I wouldn’t want to sit on any of them –
they appear hard, uncomfortable, and awkward
Wooden dining room chairs –
surrounding a glass and chrome rectangular table –
it’s all fucking mix-matched and shit -
Table and dining room chair fuckery – because they don’t belong together –
I decide not to think a fuck about any of it –
is that a foosball game in the corner of the room (?) – and I chuckle
He brings out the bottle and it’s my brand
He then takes off his shirt, seductively, and I don’t think he means anything by it –
It’s how he takes off his shirt –
He has lived alone for a few years –
and I suspect he watches a lot of movies –
(nobody removes their shirt like that, except in cinema) –
But he does and it is masculine – and I can appreciate it (and I’m watching) –
I’m watching, as I take a swig from the bottle he hands me
His shirtless back is muscular – unexpectantly cut and crisp and defined –
Under my shirt is a different story – but I’ve been working out –
beginning – and, perhaps, he’ll notice –
I think he is more masculine than I am –
and I haven’t run across that in a very long time
For fuck’s sake – we’re hanging out on his porch –
I haven’t smoked a cig in years – and here I am – with him –
“it’s a cigar, so you ain’t cheating”, he tells me, and he smiles –
“yeah, okay”, I say as I look away, so I don’t obviously stare at his chiseled chest –
my insecurities wish he could be less attractive…
from the porch-chair next to mine, he moves in closer to me – and I sit still –
I hand him the bottle (as I’ve done throughout this late afternoon) – and he takes a drink –
he looks at my shirtless self (he asked me to take it off, so I did) -
and he seems kind of okay with what he sees –
and I smile
“Let’s go swimming”, he recommends – and I’m caught off guard –
“I didn’t bring my trunks”, I say – and he smiles –
so, we go swimming –
and he stares at every inch of my personality –
and he smiles and approves –
In the pool I cling to a floatie like it’s a life raft – I just don’t yet know if I’ll need it or not
The evening arrives and presents itself with majesty –
stars twinkle above and I feel they are twinkling for me –
hope – anticipation – apprehension thrown aside (for the moment) –
The evening arrives and I greet its arrival with a bow of appreciation
“I wonder what it would be like to be like everyone else”, I say –
though I didn’t plan to say it aloud
He leans into me, tenderly, masculinely – and I lean in too –
he kisses me gently –
I, then, am looking down at him as he looks up at the stars –
As I am above him -
He closes his eyes during the final moments, as I do –
and the stars disappear – until we no longer breathe heavily –
until we are (once again) able to look at the stars and be amazed by them
His furniture is mismatched –
his dining room table and chairs are at war –
his chest is as manly as his masculine back –
- and he’s kind and good to me
and I’m unsure how to mentally process any of this
“I like you”, he says (after we’re finished) –
“I like you too”, I say, then I kiss his forehead
“Let’s go to the theatre tomorrow”, he recommends –
“Are we making plans?”, I ask – and he says yes –
“yeah, okay”, I say – and I smile
I walk to my car, in front of his house, and pause –
“yeah, okay”, I say – and I smile again (to myself) –
he’s kind of amazing –
and I don’t hate it
Photo: Jimmy Broccoli.
