It began so innocently. We had offered our home to visiting dance instructors for one week in the summer. We decided that would be a good time for Eric to take the kids to visit his family state-side and I would stay home to host our guest. When Robbie arrived, I knew he was the one.
It was no secret that I had been in the market for a gay best friend for quite some time. There was such an allure for that kind of relationship that, so far, had alluded me. All the gay men I knew were already attached. They don’t last long, gone as fast as an amazing shirt at Winners. Scooped up before the rest of us have a chance. Gay men offer the no strings attached, no competition, fashion-forward, hang out in your pyjamas and talk all night kind of bond that women want and need.
Robbie was almost perfect. The problem? He was out of my league. His 24th birthday would be on the upcoming Saturday for god’s sake. I can barely consider myself in my thirties anymore. He also graduated from Juilliard. Let me repeat that he graduated from Juilliard. Before I had time to think about what I was saying I was telling him how much I loved watching Fame when I was younger. Fame? Really? I was in trouble of losing him. He lives in NYC which sealed the deal that he was the one for me. It was time to bring my A game to the table.
I made sure I had the house stocked with all the food I knew he liked; yogurt, nuts, fruits, greens, eggs and easy on the gluten. I had done my research. I did my best to hide our cans of Alphaghetti in the cupboard. I cleaned the house, sprinkled lavender oil everywhere, lit a Kate Spade candle and selected the perfect Songza mix.
It was the next night that my dreams of a straight woman, gay man relationship were realized. I met him at the dance studio so we could walk home together. We discussed dinner and settled on cooking at home. We stopped at the butcher and shopped for food together. We talked on the way back and it was all so natural. At home we put on another perfect music mix. We drank wine (yes, I drank wine), we prepared food, we took our time, we set the table and then we ate a leisurely dinner together. I was giddy with the reality this was actually happening. I sent a few secret texts to my friends to let them know how it was going and, let’s face it, to brag a little.
A half a bottle of six percent wine from Sobey’s later, I told him that he was what I had been looking for. I shared my insecurities about our age difference. He told me I looked great and that I was very youthful. I bit my lip. We ended our evening admiring Jamie Dornan in the first episode of The Fall and called it a night.
I know that this can’t last. How could it? Me here. Him in New York, jet-setting as a dancer in his prime. But it was good while it lasted. Really good. And I’ll always be his loyal follower on Instagram. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be different. I have to go now…he’s meeting me for tea.
