Dreams are not always what they seem.
He was a fantasy drenched in sweat. I was an insecure flower in a field of tall weeds.
I was in my second month of culinary school. Newly 18, still a virgin. I had known I needed love and pleasure, that it was what I was born to seek long before adulthood but never felt right expressing it. My 18th birthday was opening a pandora’s box. I got my nipple pierced that week. I hung out with the bad girls. And I blossomed with (false) confidence.
I saw him out of my dorm window, playing football in the rain with fellow classmates. I didn’t recognize him. I spent 10+ hours a day with the same 100 people. I knew I had never seen his face. I jokingly asked my roommates to go catcall the boys with me. After a few trials calls out of our window, they were convinced to go outside. We approached the boys and I immediately turned on what I now consider “the eyes.” I searched frantically for eye contact with him, and when it came, I made the most enticing face I could. I forced my passion through my eyes so he could see the fire that burned within.