Another Time, Another Place

I was on gaydar tonight for, maybe, only the second time in the last twelve months, or so. It was because gaydar had sent me a message saying something about their new look, it was probably a marketing ploy, and I went on just to have a look. No, really I did. It was the same reason why I was on the previous time, I had been sent a message from somebody.

I was having a look around and I got a new message sent to me. And it was Dean, lovely Dean, gorgeous Dean.

He asked if I remembered him, that he wouldn't be surprised if I didn't as it had been a few years. Did I still live in Fitzroy.

I know the code, did I still live in Fitzroy was always Dean's way of saying he wanted to come over, back when we used to catch up. He sent photos with his message and he looked just as good as he always did.

Lovely Dean? My mind raced for a moment remembering Dean's beauty, those beautiful eyes and how, really, he was someone I really did feel had got away, slipped from my grip when really he shouldn't have. It was just circumstances, we were both too timid at the time... and I'd always regretted it.

Momentarily, and it really was only momentarily, I thought that Shane had gone to bed – another big weekend for Shaneo – and how easy it would be for me to invite Dean over. My, shall we say, mind buzzed with excitement for a matter of seconds.

I thought about Sam and I genuinely felt preemptively sad for him and myself if I took that course of action. I pictured Sam's handsome smiling face and for a split second I felt genuinely sad as a consequence of inviting Dean over.

I sat back in my chair and thought why would the universe do that to me? I have been on gaydar twice since last May when I met Sam and Dean said in his message that he was hardly ever on gaydar, just occasionally to check it out. So why in these most unlikely of chances would my unattainable boyfriend object suddenly reappear?

I chuckled to myself and decided to tell Dean the whole truth, not really a traditional gaydar message. 

“You know, Dean, I really consider you one that got away...”

He said he was flattered and that he'd grown somewhat since last time we'd seen each other, from a boy into a man and that he was pleased that I had someone nice in my life.

He was now a physiotherapist in Northcote, or Thornbury, or somewhere like that.

I wondered, afterwards, if he'd smile when he thought of my message? I wondered if it would come into his mind, at some odd moment, that there was somebody out there who thought he was really special?