It’s a familiar sound. For the unknowing, it’s that weird gargle-y sound your stomach makes when you’ve had too much Mexican food. For others (probably the others that read this blog), it’s undeniably the hopeful sound of a new message on Grindr.
Well, I say hopeful.
I envisioned meeting him in person for the first time over coffee. We would discuss the latest headlines and we’d hit it off so well, that he would ask me to join him for a walk in the neighboring park. Birds would be chirping, the sun would warm our backs, and children would giggle as we walked by the swing set holding hands. I would look up into his towering, dark chocolate eyes, and I would smile with no words. He, in turn, would lean down slowly to meet me, and just before his lips would place themselves so tenderly on mine, he would whisper, “I love you.”
“Shit,” I cursed.