Looking

His profile picture drew me in. He was ruggedly good-looking, wearing an old camo hat. He had beautiful blue eyes and a scruffy beard, and His plain t-shirt highlighted his broad shoulders and toned chest. His jeans fit just right and looked dingy as if he had been working outside in a dirt pile. His work boots were well used. You could see the veins on his hairy arms, and it was evident from his picture that he was a blue-collar guy.

I clicked on his picture, and his profile popped up. I expected him to be married with kids, just looking for quick gratification from a gay guy. That is a pretty common occurrence around here, and his look fit the stereotype. His stats were pretty average, six feet tall, two hundred pounds. In the comments section of his profile, there was only one word.

"Looking"

I clicked the message icon and stared at the blinking cursor. What do I say? What is it that he is looking for? Should I ask him? Or should I just say hello? What were my intentions? I hadn't even figured out what I was looking for. I closed the message box without sending a word. I logged off and went about my day.

The thing is, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Imagining what he sounds like. Picturing what it would be like to have his furry arms around me. Wondering what he did for work. I imagined he was a farmer or a construction worker. I pictured his eyes in my mind, staring at me through the screen. How easy it was to get lost in them. I found myself playing out scenarios in my head. If we met, would it be a date? Would we just give unto our physical desires and hook up? I let myself imagine us together, hand in hand, walking the fields of his farm. Was he a redneck or just a country boy? Or does he work an office job and lives the outdoor life on the weekends? I found myself falling for the man I had built up in my head. I imagined kissing him. My mind wandered into lustful territory. This daydreaming was ridiculous! All this from a picture! I decided when I got home, I would log back in and message him.

The anticipation built all day. When I finally got home, I felt as if I would explode if I didn't message him right away. I logged on. Saw all the active members near me. None of them were him. I searched the new members because today was the first time I saw his profile. Nothing. I searched through offline profiles. At least a few dozen. Nothing. My fantasy had come and gone, disappeared with any chance I had to reach out, gone with him. I searched for him a few times after that, each time with no luck. I had given up and chalked it up to a missed opportunity. Then it happened.

One evening after work, I stopped at the gas station on the way home. This was the only one in our rural area. I pulled up to the pump, got out of the car, and as I was walking towards the store, I saw him. Unmistakably him. He was pumping gas into a pick-up truck with a landscaping logo on it. We made eye contact once. There is no way he would know I looked at his profile. But our eyes connected. As I got to the door, I held it open for a blonde woman and her son. I watched as they walked to that same landscaping truck. She opened the passenger door, let the little boy jump in the back, and then kissed the man, my dream man, pumping the gas. I laughed because I called the situation correctly, and my assumptions were confirmed. But after that, there was an odd feeling of guilt. Guilt that I considered it. Guilt for what he is doing behind his wife's back, even though nothing came of me seeing his profile.

I am not sure what it is he was looking for, and maybe I will always wonder. Looking long enough brings realities that we may not like.