Prince Scientist: a Retrospective

I have kept a bit of a journal for as long as I can remember. It’s not quite like this blog, where I spill my stuff out in a formatted (if admittedly scattered) fashion. It’s full of stuff that inspires me, things that irritate me, instances that offend or anger me, motivational sayings and meditations, and a great many circumstances that, if not committed to journal and expiated from my conscious mind, would drive me to get liquored up and climb to the top of a building, removing jugulars with my teeth and flinging feces like a rabid rhesus monkey.

There are also stories of boys.

When reading May of last year, I came across the end of the Prince Scientist Saga. As a quick catch up, Prince Scientist was a young science professional who worked in my building. He was strikingly gorgeous. Beautiful. The first time I saw him was in the break room and I forgot how to eat. (Yes, I outright thieved this experience for my published short story, Threads of Discord). He smiled at me and, though I was sitting against the wall, I looked behind me to see who this gorgeous creature was looking at. *sigh*

As part of my job, I went with a coworker/friend to train all the scientists in my building about an aspect of the company they needed to know more about. While my friend was talking and everyone should have been looking at her, I looked around to sneak a peek at the beautiful Prince.

He was already looking at me.

Instead of looking away, Prince Scientist and I made that sort of heart-stopping eye contact that you read about in books. And kept looking. And looking. Finally, we turned away, but my friend saw it. She also saw him look at me over and over throughout the meeting when I wasn’t talking and he had no reason to glance my way (there was nobody behind or next to me). Every time I looked up, he looked away quickly. He asked questions, always staring at me. It kept happening, over and over.

Whatever. I rarely saw him, so I locked it away in my heart and felt good that someone who looked like that seemed to find me attractive. We didn’t even work on the same floor. Suddenly, he was everywhere. Then he was training in a room at the end of my aisle, and every time he passed me I would see him giving me side eye from one row over. Several of my friends noticed it, too. Being a scientist, you would expect him to be smart. And he was. Smart, nice, ambitious, and beautiful.

This went on for months. Though I’m 100% certain it had NOTHING to do with me, he transferred to my floor, and we saw each other almost every day. Side eyes, smiles, full on looks when the other was distracted, nervous chats (at least on my part — I was a babbling idiot), some joking, and more chatting (even one cute instance where we were passing each other, each with a place to be, and walked backwards so we could finish our conversation).

And then it ended. Ever the ambitious smarty, he left the company. He shook my hand goodbye…and held it just a little longer than you’d expect. And he didn’t squeeze. It was more of a caress and less of a weak handshake. More eye contact that even I didn’t break. And then we went our separate ways.

I haven’t seen him since.

I later found out that he had a girlfriend. I’m not going to be that annoying gay guy and say that she was a beard, a fake, a sham to show the public. I can see him as bisexual. Hell, I could see him as straight, evidence notwithstanding. Playing devil’s advocate, though, what if he is bi and was attracted to me but never made a move because he is loyal to the person he’s with? Yeah, that’s self-serving fantasy, but if it was true, his morals only make him more attractive.

Reading the entry in my year-ago journal in which I chronicled Prince Scientist’s last day, I decided to look him up on social media. There is exactly one picture of him and what I assume is his girlfriend. It’s not the best picture of him (he looks more like he’s grimacing than anything, but that’s possibly more projection). She is absolutely, strikingly beautiful. Lovely. I mean, she’s the type you look at and think, “Jesus, she’s HOT,” even as a gay man. I checked out her profile and there’s one tiny picture of him kissing her between her nose and mouth as she grins away.

I sincerely hope they are happy. I hope that, despite what others have suggested to me, she is not a beard or a cover up. I hope their relationship is true and beautiful and everything they need it to be. I hope he is happy.

Looking at that picture, thinking of a year ago, it honestly doesn’t matter what was actually between us. He had an impact on me, and a very positive one. There was enough evidence and corroborating stories to make me believe, even for a second, that someone smart and nice and achingly beautiful wanted me. On top of that, I was attracted to someone with all those qualities. I didn’t do my normal thing of, “Oh, he’s too successful and beautiful and smart. He’d never want me. I should just give up.” No. Instead, I looked forward to seeing him. I talked to him. I hoped.

More than anything, I hoped. He was the first big sign that I might be healing, that I might finally think I was worthy, and that I could accept good things into my life.

Even if I never see him again in all my life, which is probable; even if I and my friends imagined all the signs of attraction, which is possible; and even if I make some bad decisions in the future, which is inevitable; I will always remember that time as something that put me on the right track. I hoped, and from that hope sprang a thought that, just maybe, I can find someone like him, with those qualities I saw in him. In fact, I know I can. And that hope, that knowledge is invaluable.

So, in the end, he really was my Prince Charming Scientist.

 

Though I will probably never see him again, I hope he is deliriously happy and good and as wonderful as he seemed. I hope he’s happy, and I will treasure the hope and confidence he left behind.

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~ by Darren Endymion on May 16, 2016.

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