Glimpses of Gods

I see him across the room. Actually I see him, in different versions, very often. Tonight's version is named Alex. He's dressed in black slacks-- tight black slacks. Tight enought to show the curves in his legs, and tight enough to accentuate the bubble butt that follows him wherever he leads. He's wearing a dark blue, button down dress shirt. He has it unbuttoned one or two buttons past where I would feel comfortable. But he can pull it off, and he knows it. The unbuttoned shirt reveals a tight chest, and pecs that any man at the gym would trade his soul to the devil for. He has a six-pack of abs that are visible even through the material of his shirt. His face is a work of art: strong jaw line, dark hair cut short and perfectly manicured sideburns. On top of that he has the most amazing blue eyes.

Do I want him? Yes. Do I think I could ever have him? No. Would I want him if I had a chance? Probably not. I just want to look at him. I want to take in the glory of being around him. I want to imagine what it would be like to be him. That's it. I want to imagine being him. Life for him must be so easy. He can walk into any room and command attention by doing nothing more than being handsome. He doesn't have to be smart. He doesn't have to be rich. He just has to take a shower, put on some nice clothes and wallah!

This time he was Alex. Tomorrow I'll see a different version named Thom- a buffed up, pierced and tattooed, skateboarding kid. The next day I might run into Nicholas- the tennis pro with the legs to die for and an English accent to boot.

I see different versions of the perfect man daily. I usually think that I look at them with lust-- now I realize that it's jealousy. I invison that they live perfect lives and everything in their world is rosey. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe their lives are as dull, depressing and mundane as mine is at times. Maybe they have aging dogs that are nearing the end of their lives, too. Maybe they have a dripping kitchen sink that they can't fix. Maybe they have bill collectors calling them day and night, too. Maybe their families don't love them, or they have no family.

It's easy to judge a book by it's cover. It's easy to judge someone's Insides by how they appear on the Outside. I'm sure Alex, Thom and Nicholas all have real problems. I probably wouldn't want to trade places with any of them, any more than they would want to trade places with me.

But it's nice to look... it's nice to fantasize, I guess.

I'll see you soon, Alex (or whatever your name will be the next time I see you). I hope you don't mind me staring. I hope your life is everything I imagine that it might be.