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Chapter 3

Chapter 3

There was a fantasy that was very common among guys I knew when I was in college, and it was one I admit that I secretly hoped for. That sometime, you would be sitting alone in the library, just minding your own business, when suddenly the most perfect guy you had ever seen walks in and starts looking through the aisles.

You steal a few glances his way, hoping he won’t notice, but then he looks up and catches you in the act. You try to make it seem like an accident, but it is too late. He’s caught you red-handed and now it’s time to pay the price.

Your heart begins to race as he closes in, with quick glances to the exit and a lot of calculations to see if you’ll make it there on time. But it’s too late. He has reached your table and there is no going back.

He smiles a perfect smile and looks at the book you are reading, then makes a keen observation about one of the characters. You are so impressed that your nerves completely evaporate.

The guy, whose name is Rex, or something along those lines, then suggests you move this conversation to the nearest coffee house. You agree, and continue to share similar thoughts on books, movies, and everything that you like with Rex. Rex has to go, but he takes your number and calls you later, so that the two of you can talk all night long. Thus begins the most perfect relationship you will ever have.

At least, that’s the story that most people would tell. They never want to admit that they met the guy online, even though everyone was doing it at the time. It’s not that the library meetings didn’t happen to anyone, it’s that they just didn’t always fit the magical scenario that we had built up in our heads. Sure, it was old-fashioned, but even with all the new ways people found to hook up, many still held on to that dream.

I am not saying that online meetings, even the ones that happen today through all those websites and apps, aren’t magical in their own way, but not too many people saw this as romantic. It didn’t even matter if the library meeting lasted. At least you had a great story to tell. I like to think of myself as a romantic, though I will admit I met almost all my boyfriends, even Tim, online.

Then of course, there is that one moment where you think you’ve actually found the one, even if you didn’t really know any better. That’s how it was with Tim. Even though it was through a computer screen and not the library and we couldn’t hear each other’s voices, it still felt so real. Granted, a bunch of his perfections at that first meeting were figments of my imagination, but once I met him in person, we simply picked up where we left off from the computer. The rest, as many people usually pronounce, is history.

Tim and I moved pretty fast. We hung out with each other almost every day, and I stayed over every night at his apartment. About a month into our relationship, Tim started having some trouble with his roommate, and I suggested he move in with me until he found a place of his own. That, of course, never happened.

Not that I minded, though. I was in heaven. Here was a cute, smart, funny guy who was totally into me. Plus, he knew how to cook. In my mind, he was perfection.

It wasn’t until he started living with me that bits and pieces of the real Tim started coming out. The one that moved from job to job for petty reasons. The one who wanted a clean house, but wouldn’t lift a finger to do it. The one who complained about me gaining weight, but threw a fit anytime I spent more than thirty minutes at the gym. I could go on, but it wouldn’t be fair to him. Besides, he was also the guy who baked me a cake on my birthday each year, though treats like that grew few and far between as the years went on.

Meeting someone from an app wasn’t really that much different than meeting someone from a chat room. The only real difference was that you used your phone or tablet to do it instead of a computer. But other than that, you still had to weed through all the headless pics to find someone with an actual face, then skip over the ones who just wanted a quick f**k. That part, for better or worse, would always stay the same. As a guilty party myself, I can attest to that.

I don’t know what made me do this so soon. Wait, yes, I do. It was Bobby. He wouldn’t leave my apartment until I used the app again, then sat me down on the couch and looked through all those pictures. As he fawned over each one, I wondered if this was more for him than me.

“You know, I’m not really comfortable doing this right now. It’s only been a few days.” I started to get up, but Bobby pulled me right back down.

“Tim didn’t wait, did he? Right now he’s shacking up with his little hoochie, laughing at how all alone you are. And you already started looking the other night. I’m just making sure you finish the job.”

I guess I couldn’t argue with that logic. I had been friends with Bobby for years, even before either of us came out. Sometimes I would question his actions, but he was there for me when I needed him. I took the tablet and continued to wade through an endless buffet of pictures.

“Wow, I know I’ve said this before, but when did everyone get so fit and pretty?”

Bobby waved off my statement and continued to look at my tablet screen. He then pulled the tablet away from my hands and pointed it directly at me.

“Say cheese,” he exclaimed. I put my hand over my face, successfully blocking the shot. Bobby put the tablet away and stared me down.

“How on earth do you plan to meet people if you don’t have a pic up? I know I don’t like talking to blank boxes, or headless shots. Well, unless it’s a beautiful headless shot.”

“You could have warned me first. You can’t just snap a picture of someone like that. I’m a mess. At least let me fix myself up a bit.”

Bobby sat up with a big smile. “Ooooh, a makeover, that sounds like fun. Let’s go to your closet and see what we have to work with.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call this a makeover,” I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

We made our way to my room, which I was embarrassed to let Bobby see. I had left it a bit messy, which wasn’t usually like me, but I just didn’t have the energy to tidy up. Luckily, Bobby didn’t have time to notice the empty carton of ice cream on the nightstand, or the scattered clothes on the floor. He happily made his way to my closet and swung open the door in true diva fashion.

By the way his nose crinkled up, I could tell he wasn’t impressed with the selection.

“Is there any eighties cartoon character you don’t have a T-shirt of? And where are all your dress shirts? Someone who works at a college must have some. And those can’t be your only shoes. I’m all for comfort, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices to look good.”

I took a nice, crisp, orange dress shirt off of the hanger and held it up. It still had the tags on it. “I bought this one a long time ago. I guess I just never got around to wearing it. But anyways, what’s wrong with being laid-back? Not every gay guy has to be a fashionista.”

“You’re right. They don’t. And I think it’s cute that you have these shirts. But some of them are even older than I am.”

He was exaggerating, but he was still right. I’ve had a few of those shirts for a several years, and some of them were looking pretty beat-up. I didn’t wear them to work or anything like that, but even the polo shirts I did wear were wrinkled to the point that they needed a good ironing before being worn.

Bobby took the orange shirt from me and looked it over. “It’s cute. Let’s get these tags off and fix up your hair a bit. Do you have any product?”

I already knew Bobby wasn’t going to like the answer I had for him, but I guess my face said it all.

“Sweetie, I get it. You’re a laid-back hipster. But sometimes you have to make an effort to at least comb your hair.”

“So, what, are you saying that it’s my fault that Tim left? That I didn’t try hard enough to look good for him?” The anger was swelling up inside my chest, and I could feel my breath getting deeper.

“This isn’t about him, this is about you,” Bobby countered. I flopped on my bed and began to cry.

“Why the hell am I crying?” I wailed. I really didn’t understand it. Yes, I was upset about everything, but I had yet to shed a tear. Now, the dam was breaking and everything came flooding out at once.

Bobby came over and sat down beside me. He placed his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug.

“It’s okay. Just let it all out.”

“This is the first time I’ve cried since Tim left. I’ve been trying so hard to prove that I could be here without him, but maybe I can’t. It just hurts too much.”

Bobby started to tear up as well. “Darling, of course it hurts. But it will hurt less tomorrow, and every day after that.”

“I want to believe that. I really do. But everything here just reminds me of him. I would break the lease, but we just signed up for another year, so I can’t afford the fees. But even then, what good would moving do? I’d still have all this stuff, and that stupid couch, so I would have to buy all new furniture.” I began to wail again. Bobby just laughed. I turned to him and gave vicious stares in between laughs.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I know the only reason you are crying now is because you’re thinking about all the money you’ll have to spend. Or am I wrong?”

Well, he did get me there. Tim did always say that I was too frugal for my own good.

“I just don’t think I’m ready for this yet. It all seemed so easy when I was younger, but now that I’m thirty-six, it just feels so surreal to be alone. It’s like I don’t know where to begin my life now. I do know that maybe all the makeovers and app chats might be a bit too soon.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll back off. But promise me you will let me take you out for some new clothes and a haircut soon.”

I nodded my head.

“Pinky swear,” Bobby said as he extended his pinky toward me.

I grabbed it with mine. “Pinky swear.”