A Walk In The Park

2 - Stuck In A Rut

The brief encounter in the park has left me feeling a little sorry for myself the rest of the night. I get that way sometimes when I see a happy couple, or someone such as Mystery Man. It makes me long for something I'm not sure I'll ever have. I remind myself that I'm just 22 and I have more important things to concentrate on right now than finding my soulmate. "It'll happen when it's meant to happen," is what my sister has always told me. And I do believe that. It's just that, being gay, I feel like it's a little harder to find someone special, as options are somewhat more limited.

I've always been open about my sexuality, even in high school. Thankfully, I was one of the lucky ones in that I didn't get bullied too much. Sure, there were those few idiots that never had anything nice to say to anyone. But I minded my own business and they pretty much left me alone after a while. I never "came out" or anything. I just didn't see the point in making a big announcement about something that everyone already knew. Straight people don't make a big deal about their sexuality, why should gay people? I did sit down and tell my parents when I was 14, but as I suspected, they'd already figured it out. So it was really never a big ordeal to me.

Some people seem surprised when they learn my sexual preference, actually. I guess because many people are ignorant and expect all gays to be super feminine or flamboyant, neither of which I am. I mean, I love me some classic movies, I'm obsessed with Audrey Hepburn, and cooking and cuddling are at the top of my "love to do" list. So if you want to stereotype, I guess you could say that I'm in touch with my feminine side. Also, I may or may not be a big baby when it comes to scary movies. But flamboyant I'm not. I'm simply Michael James Pierce, the "smart, quiet guy with the good hair." Or, more commonly, Arabella's little brother, MJ. Everyone loves my sister. She's never met a stranger, so to speak. So that's how everyone back home knows of me. I don't mind it, though. She's absolutely wonderful, and probably the reason why no one really messed with me during school. She's three years older than me and has always had my back. She's expecting her first child in a few months, and I'm ecstatic about being an uncle. It's probably as close to being a father as I'll ever be.

The not-so-great things in my life include school assignments up to my eyeballs, no social life, and... well, that's pretty much it, I guess. Nothing to complain about. But I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. A rut that I'm going to have to stay in for a while longer. Hopefully, that will change once I graduate and get a better job.

My parents are fairly wealthy because of their real estate business, and they don't mind helping me out while I'm in school, if needed. Despite the falling out that we had my freshman year of college, and the horrible outcome of what they were trying to protect me from, they insisted on helping with my tuition, and they're letting me live in one of the townhouses that they own and normally rent out. I felt so guilty about it at first because they had warned me and begged me to not get into that mess in the first place. I didn't think I deserved such generosity. But it helped me move on and it keeps me from having to live in a dorm or pay rent, so that's a plus. But every day living expenses are paid for by the little income I get from working part time at The Disney Store on the weekends. It's a real shitty job because my boss is a jerk. But I'm determined to stick it out as long as I need to, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I'm not a quitter.

Ugh. That reminds me, I need to stop daydreaming and get started on my last big assignment and study for a test, because I'm not going to have time to do it this weekend.

I feed Harley and throw a couple of Hot Pockets in the microwave. I really need to do something about my diet. I don't have any weight issues by any means, but my food choices are about as unhealthy as it gets. I wish I had a little motivation to want to get in shape... And just like that I'm thinking of the guy from the park again. He's definitely in great shape.

I haven't really thought about guys in some time. I haven't had time to. Except this one. I find myself looking for him every time I'm at the park. And when I don't see him, I'm disappointed. I know it's ridiculous, because the chances of him being into dudes are slim to none. And even if he is, he probably wouldn't be attracted to me. Anyway...

I'm thankful for bedtime tonight. It's been one of those weeks that seem to drag by. It's only Tuesday, but feels like it should be Thursday. After taking Harley out for a quick walk, I allow him to sleep on the bed with me, as usual. He stretches out like he owns the bed, and even puts his head on the pillow that I'm not using. Silly dog. He's asleep in no time.

It takes me quite a while longer to fall into a slumber. But once I do, I have vivid dreams of Mr. Tall Dark And Handsome from the park. This isn't the first time he's visited me in my dreams. But it's certainly the most realistic encounter, though very unpleasant. In this dream, I'm in the park, but Harley isn't with me. I can't find him and I'm calling out his name. I'm starting to panic when the cute guy approaches me. He pulls an AirPod out of one ear and asks what's wrong. I tell him I can't find my dog, and he laughs at me. Then he says, "That doesn't surprise me. I told you you're worthless. You can't even keep up with a sorry ass dog. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve anything. You may as well kill yourself and disappear." He puts the AirPod back in and jogs off like nothing is wrong. I watch him in disbelief, and just like when I watched him run past me in reality that day, he glances back at me. Except it isn't him. It's a man that I despise with every ounce of my being; the man who almost broke me: my one and only ex-boyfriend.

I wake up with tears on my face. "It was just another stupid dream," I tell myself. I wipe my tears away with my palms and Harley raises his head to look at me. He sighs his displeasure about the interruption in sleep, but lays his head on my shoulder when I tell him it's okay. I give him a pat on his side before curling into a tight ball and pulling the covers up to my chin. It's all I can do to comfort myself, something I've done many times over the past three years.