Adriano’s Gaydar Diary
I’ve always been a flirt, I admit it. A wink here, a playful flex there. But it was always distant. A game. A reaction. Women loved it, and I – well I liked the attention. But today, while I was doing my pull ups, I caught eyes with that young guy at the squat rack. He was struggling, veins popping in his neck, sweat slicking his dark hair, and instead of just appreciating the view, something shifted.
I needed to clear my head. So, I ditched the protein shake and headed to the park. I usually just walk through on my way home, but today I sat by the pond. The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows, and the leaves crunched under my boots. It was peaceful. Then, I saw him.
Gaydar Beefcake
Sitting on a bench, sketching in a notebook. Dark, curly hair, maybe mid-twenties. He looked up, and our eyes met. He smiled, a slow, easy smile that made something flutter in my stomach. Didn’t flinch at my size, didn’t look intimidated or impressed, just… present.
He was stunning. Not in the way a magazine cover girl is stunning, but in a way that felt deep, real. It made me think of lines in a poem; something with substance. He didn’t even look like the men I’d been flirting with; this was different.
It’s as if the blinders finally came off. The realization hit me like one of those heavy plates I love to lift: I’m attracted to men. Really attracted. It’s not just playful flirting anymore.
I’ll have to come back to the park tomorrow, see if the artist is there again, see if I feel this same pull. I will figure out what this all means. Maybe even say hello.
Thanks for listening Diary
