Dear cute Persian guy,
You are way more attractive than he is. Seriously, way more. I wish you knew that. Especially since it appears he does not.
Can’t you see the way he is barely acknowledging that you exist? Notice how he looks away from you, concentrating his full attention on his gaggle of doe-eyed female fans. They are practically fawning over him. Twirling their hair, sparkling their eyes, giggling inanely while tossing back their heads, and wasting their best pick up moves on a boy who is clearly gay.
Oh, he knows you are there, believe me. He’s acting as if you are a mere annoyance, but that’s just to feed his already satiated ego. Having someone as good looking as you are seated off to one side and slightly behind only boosts his esteem. See how his gaggle of straight girls are so happy to include you in their harem? They are, at least, treating you as if you matter. No doubt, because you do.
You are young, and tall, and slender, with pretty eyes framed with thick dark lashes. No ‘Maybe it’s Maybeline.’ That is clearly all you. So are the loose, tousled curls. What’s more, your manner is sweet and disarming. It was brave of you to march right up to him and flash that dazzling smile. How could he resist inviting you to join them?
Please don’t take that as a sign of interest, though. He is not interested in you. He is interested in him.
At the risk of sounding harsh and judgmental, there are hundreds of him all over West Hollywood. The same obnoxious hair cut. The same tank top, shorts, flip flops. The same gym body. That immediately recognizable A-list voice. Arch, catty, bitchy. Choose an adjective.
Okay, this one has a pierced nose, but doesn’t that look out of place to you? It does to me. There is nothing cutting edge or dangerous about this blond boy. It is unlikely he will draw such a flutter of adoration from the giggling straight girls in five or ten years, when the blush of youth has moved on to the next unit off the assembly line.
You, on the other hand, will mature into a handsome man. I can picture you now with a sprinkling of salt and pepper at your temples. In your beard. There is no question you can grow a full one of those. You will fill out that height soon enough. No need to worry about being awkward in your body. One day soon, your shoulders will be broad and strong and you’ll stand proud in any room full of gay men.
Meanwhile, if you wanted to, you could find yourself up on a runway. Then you’d have your own mini fan club vying for your attention.
We are all attracted to different types, and maybe this one is yours, but you are not his. Don’t waste your time pining after someone who doesn’t deserve you from the start. Yes, I am jumping to the conclusion that he is superficial. Without substance. Can you blame me? Have you really never met one of him?
Maybe this one is different. Maybe he’s been to Dartmouth, and donates his time at the animal shelter, and visits his mother every weekend, and reads Cormac McCarthy, and collects Chagall prints. It’s possible, but do you really want to place a wager on that?
You are far too young for me, and you’d probably never notice me anyway, but I would so love to tell you these things. Tell you that you are beautiful. Tell you to place a higher value on yourself. Not to give away all you have to someone who could not care less. Who will not even know what he’s neglecting to appreciate. You’ll get hurt, not him. He’ll just use you as an anecdote to amuse his admirers.
“Did he really think he stood a chance with you?” they will wonder, aghast.
“How could he ever believe he was good enough for you?” they’ll tell him. Of course they will. That is what he is hoping to hear.
They’ll nod in agreement with one another, and gaze at him with concern, making sure he knows how much his emotional well being matters to them.
Don’t be one of them. Don’t fall for it. Get up, smile politely, and excuse yourself. Before you get to know him further. Before you get trapped in the role he wants you to play. Before you are convinced that all of you is only worth a piece of him.
Do it, now. Walk away. Listen to what I would love to say. The truth is, he is not good enough for you.