I Like A Boy . . . Who Just So Happens To Like A Different Boy

A few months back, by chance, I met a guy. A gay guy. And he was nice. And I liked him.

It was all kinds of awesome. Until he told me about his boyfriend.

It's the part of conversations that I truly hate and tend to expect nowadays. At what seems to be my rapidly approaching "middle age," everyone has a past or present. There is always someone to discuss during casual conversation. If I had a nickel for every time I have had to hear about the wives, the girlfriends, the exes, the boyfriends, the partners, the flings, the babysitters, the children, I would have a vast amount of coin.

I'm just gonna say it: I think I'd prefer to be penniless.

It isn't because I'm not happy for them. Quite the opposite. But, at this stage in the game, it just makes me feel a little bit sad. Especially when he's cute. Especially when he's nice. And especially when it seems like he is interested in me, too.

Did I mention that?

Well, he does! He plays it real cool and I actually think for once in my life that I might be playing it cool too. Because he also has become a nice friend. Someone to know, who is gay, who loves the same things I do, and we have a lot to talk about usually. It isn't forced. It is all just nice. And we recently began to flirt on our last time of hanging out.

Which leads me to sit down here and spill my guts in my I Am So Gay blog. Because what couldn't be more relatable to all of us than liking someone.

We all have.

Unrequited.
Or requited.
Or Forbidden. The kind of "Danger! Will Robinson!" forbidden.
Or one sided.

We have all been there. In fact, I have a long history of liking guys who have looked right past me. It all brings me back to high school when I loved, loved, loved Joe. Joe was in the same grade as me. He was tall, and a runner, and smart, and funny, and a little strange. He was great.

He was also straight, which is always an obstacle in any gay romance. So, needless to say, our friendship was only that. But, I liked a boy.

This time, and many boys later, I like a boy who at least bats for my team. Score 1 for me. Unfortunately, he has a boyfriend and lives with him. And they have dogs. So, things were looking pretty grim.  I mean - they have dogs, people! Show over. They might as well have already monogrammed the bathroom towels already.

Flash forward to last Thursday, an old friend of mine came to town. She invited me to an alumni function that her British fashion school was hosting. Since I work in the industry, it could be a good opportunity to network as well as catch up with her.

Aside from being two degrees outside, the night was fun. I looked amazing (he said humbly). I was wearing my vintage navy blazer I scored in Brussels while on vacation, a Scottish looking green plaid shirt, tight dark jeans and cute oxford shoes.

I spent a good 45 minutes talking with someone who eyed me earlier in the night. He was tan, about my height, stylish hair, and looked in decent physical shape. I was on cloud nine. And, at about the 40 minute mark, that was when he went in for the kill. He casually dropped the "my girlfriend" line.

He was lucky I had 2 glasses of wine already.  

I mean, come on! I invested time, you know? This was a networking event for fashion and he is a graphic designer. If I wasn't getting a job out of this, the least I could have gotten was dinner.
Instead, I got a business card and an offer for his help to design my book cover. (Yep, it's happening. I am writing a book! Squeal!)

But whether the graphic designer would happen would be another tale. I found my friend and was ready to leave the event. It was close to ten and my little belly was busting out of my blazer at this point in the night. Cinderella was leaving the ball.

My friend was happily talking with an artist looking type, who slightly resembled a younger Benedict Cumberbatch. Google him now if you don't know him. Besides being handsome, he is also the star of  Sherlock. Which you should go watch on Netflix after reading my blog. You're welcome.

The man she was speaking to was younger than me, but seemed engaged the minute I showed up and he even gave me his business card and wanted to have drinks. In a matter of seconds, with putting no effort or interest at all, I seemingly had a future date. In the brutal cold, the man even walked my friend and I to the subway station. This had some promise.

And it was a surprise.

I have spent the better part of my life looking and being looked past and here was someone who throwing out the digits. And he was French. Which makes the whole thing seems cooler, if you think about it.

While in my heart, I cannot yet say "au revoir" to the boy who has a boyfriend, it is certainly very fun to think about it all. I cannot tell you how many parties or functions I have been at, seen a cute guy, and  - BAM - he's got someone else. Weddings, art galleries, birthday parties, children's playgrounds - nowhere is safe.

Never has it happened with a slight surprise. A possible happy ending to this "fairy" tale. Pardon the slur pun. But I did warm up, walking home on that sub zero night.

Imagine, a boy liked me and I just so happen to maybe like him back.

Now that's "parfait."