Slater was the dream. The all American boy. Blond hair, blue eyes, toothpaste smile. Excellent athlete. Model student. Ideal son. He was right out of a Disney after school special. He was also my childhood best friend.
Maybe it was the way we never actually met. Since before we could remember, we were already friends. Inseparable. I always dreamed we would stay that way. We’d go through school the very best pals. We’d attend the same college. As roommates, of course. We’d move to the same city. Work for the same company. Share our lives.
I was too young to understand that he was straight and I was not. When he drifted painfully away, toward a normal childhood with normal friends, the wounded part of me decided that I would wait for him to return.
After years of longing for soul mates and love at first sights that never came, after too many crushes on too many straight guys, I slowly realized I was searching for him. Slowly losing hope of finding him. Slowly resigning to be alone.
Not anymore. Now, I value a rich fantasy life. There is great beauty in those dreams. I once more believe that Slater is real. Always was. In another form, by another name, behind another smile. He’s there. Waiting. Searching. Just like me.