By Scott King
I made it through the wilderness. Somehow, I made it through. I bought myself a cottage at the edge of the wood with an amazing view.
But enough about me. Let’s talk about you.
When you meet someone groovy, do you walk home with a spring in your step and your head in the clouds, or do you look down at the ground with a frown, trying to figure out how it will all go wrong?
Don’t be so negative, Nancy. Keep your Teen Spirit fresh. Fresh as driven snow.
Remember in January when it snowed on a Friday night and by early Saturday afternoon the sun came out and melted the white away by the end of brunch? True romantics like me got up early that morning, looked out the window as excitedly as a mame in an old movie (fixin’ to lose her religion), made the cocoa and then went out snapping pictures and reveling in the wonder of it all. The “likes” just wouldn’t stop.
The night is bitter, I know. The stars have left their glitter, so I hear. And all because of the man that got away. Do you know how many men there are on this planet? More than 3 billion, allegedly. I bet a decent percentage of them are totally bangable and would love to meet you.
Keep your chin up. Keep it real. Keep on pluggin’.
Here’s a story: My BFF in the ATL and I were at Sweetwater Creek, hiking a warm summer’s day away. And by hiking, I mean we were taking pictures and being beautiful. We got in the water in our underwear and had a swim. Because it was a beautiful day and because we love America, we started singing all three verses of Like a Virgin at the top of our lungs.
Along came a spider. Just kidding. It was a hot young bro in Umbro shorts, hiking boots, backpack and 0% body fat. That’s ALL he was wearing. A few moments later, his beta male friends came along behind him, bringing up the rear. They were chatting and happy-go-lucky. They had no idea how intensely we were staring at their hunky, intrepid friend.
The leader of the pack was a young heterosexual human male. He kept staring straight forward with total respect to the gay boys in the water but tacitly asserting that he was not going to sleep with us. I looked up from this conga line of innocuous heteronormativity just in time to notice my friend floating down the river with his Calvin Klein covered crotch popping into the air like a surprise FM radio hit. He was floating downstream, his dick leading the way towards his own personal Jesus.
No harm no foul. That’s how you keep it pure. Pure as Sweetwater Creek. You go after what you want, but you do not assault anyone, and you do not make it something that it’s not.
There was a heavy silence as we quietly put our clothes back on, but I got my friend laughing and singing again by busting out my rendition of Human Nature. And I’m not sorry.
Then we got lost, and we almost died, but we didn’t. We lived to fight another day. My friend is now in a happy relationship with someone about the same age as that precocious, stoic young man was then (Obama was President). This time around, the object of his affection is a well-read homosexual who is totally into him.
The blueprint of desire builds the house of soulmate. Don’t give up. There is power in goodbye. There is also power in saying hello. You have to kiss a lot of frogs, and then you have to tell them that you have to go. Let’s just pray that you make it through the wilderness without getting mono.
I’m not waiting on Prince Charming. I’m looking for Prince Sinister. I’ve never seen him on the hiking trails, but I know what he looks like. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. The tall part is negotiable.
But he’s a twisted fucker. Pensive, convoluted, and full of energy. He gets my jokes, and he makes me think. He tells me things I’ve never thought of before.
I’ve encountered his mini-me, several times. He usually has a nasty little drug habit or is barely legal. Or both. One day my prince will come and pass a piss test pure and clean.
Pure as driven snow.
Scott King is an Atlanta-based writer, consultant, and political activist. He enjoys tennis, hiking, rock concerts, and having drinks with friends. He is currently working on a novel about a hooker with a heart of Bitcoin.