What he meant, because he’s seen me do this too many times, was not to appear too thirsty, too hungry, too whatever other adjective connotating not playing it cool you can think of. I told him not too worry, that this boy was different, that I didn’t need to play it cool with this person. Diego’s reply: I’ve heard that before.
And so I texted him, saying we should hang out soon. He responded in the vague affirmative. And then somehow in the following text, in the stretch of just a few short lines, I must have said something wrong, gave myself way, displayed my thirstiness too explicitly, ruined the game. I asked him if he was free tomorrow (now, today).
There was no response. There has been no response.
I got stoned. I got ready for bed. I got naked and looked at myself in my mirror. I looked good. I love the feeling of looking at your body and recognizing that it looks good. There is some vanity in that, obviously. There is also a work ethic in that. I have been going to the gym pretty heavily lately and it makes me happy. I like the feeling of control, of making myself look the way I want to look. It’s such a thrilling feeling to know how much power we have if we listen to our bodies, if we approach the care of them with as much effort as we spend caring for our social media personalities.
And so this guy may or may not ever happen. I may never kiss him. I may never get to live out all these cute fantasies I had already played in my mind of us dating. And that is perfectly okay. What happens happens, what doesn’t doesn’t. Life goes on. I’ll go to the gym, get stoned, and admire my body in full-length mirrors. “Who shall say I am not the happy genius of my household?”