Writing Challenge, Day 10
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I mulled over Perry's question for three days. Funny, I thought. I refer to Ryan as my "erstwhile pseudo-boyfriend" and for the life of me, I couldn't remember how we ended up that way.
When I think about it, Ryan does have the qualities of a suitable boyfriend. He's cute, for one, in a more boy-next-door but more bear version of Oscar dela Hoya. He practically has the boxer's build these days, too; despite the hectic schedule of med school, he managed to maintain a good--if not better--shape. For another, he's more butch than I'll ever be. Not that it's a deal-breaker for me if he's not (okay, perhaps it will be eventually). More importantly, we share the same interests. We both love Street Fighter and other fighting arcade games. We watch foreign films because the actors are cuter that the Hollywood heartthrobs. We have have the same taste in music (which can be summed up to three words: Whitney, Mariah, Celine).
We've known each other since sixth grade. We are practically brothers, like I told Perry. So was that it? Why it didn't work out the first time? I Were we too much alike? They do say opposites attract, after all.
But you two are not that much alike, a tiny voice in my head reasoned out. You see how Ryan hops from bed to bed, depending on what flavor of the month he likes, it said. And by flavor you know it can mean anything from age range ("I'm into older men!"), to places ("We should go to that bath house!"), to challenges ("I can turn that straight guy gay!"), to downright crazy/stupid ("I only date guys whose names start with A now!").
I sighed and rubbed my temples. Good point.