The Riley Factor

        Every morning, when the first sip of coffee touches my lips, I think of you. It is odd, that my body longs to be close to yours, though we have never once spoken. I watch you, occasionally, only for a moment until the threat of our eyes meeting causes me to look away, look distracted. I’ve loved once, but it didn’t work out in my favor. Perhaps it was that I thought I could never feel love again. These days, after a Christmas and countless bottles of merlot have passed, I wonder if I ever loved at all. Love the way I see it… fairytale love. I see you now and think to myself I am single, I am still young. My heart keeps an open space nearby for you or someone like you, where the clovers have overgrown the scars and the pathways are no longer so perilous.

        Funny, that I occasionally consider that I have a chance of getting to know you on a level so intimate, as though you would even notice someone like me. A man like you could want only the finest things in life, the finest women. Your arms tell of your strength, your eyes of your hidden depths, and your walk of your confidence... and your insecurities (Yes, I notice those too). But in this world I cannot simply come to you and express; “You could be the one!” That would be foolish, even if we were of opposite sexes. I am not what I seem when young ladies eyes meet mine and count me among the possibilities of college romances. Sadly, I am left adrift, and what I desire in a mate is nearly impossible to find. Where is my Romeo, my prince – the one with the shy disposition, but heart full of passion? I am no damsel in distress; no lisp is associated with this tongue, so it is not uncommon to be overlooked or dismissed as just another guy.

        I find that loneliness, however, is something I can claim. Anyway, I thought I should let you know I still watch you occasionally, not that you will ever read what is scribed on this piece of torn notebook paper I almost threw away before you walked in the door. Don’t worry though, I don’t see you as an object of sexual desire. Don’t get me wrong, you’re stunning, but I tend to see marriage and love, vows and stability over flesh. You are indeed magnificent. I am again left wishing I weren’t this… gay. Oh well, maybe I will fall into fate’s good graces and another, such as yourself, will come into my life. Maybe we will grow old together and have many children (adopted or surrogate). I guess I’m too young to give up on love just yet.