“ We are surrounded by math. Math is all around us, even though we don’t see it” said once one of my professors. Another professor explained that math is music, and only if you know how, you can hear the numbers singing to you in the middle of the night, wonderful romantic serenades and songs that the head cannot disregard. Combine these two sentences together and you’ll reach to the one and only conclusion possible – we are all surrounded by music, all the time. We only need to learn how to listen.

This music are the people around us. Our friends, our family, even that no-so-successful date siting in front of you and trying his best to make you like him. It is possible that under this coat, the average standard looking guy you’ll find to be the best thing ever happened to you. All you need to do is to listen. Listen to the person, not to his exteriority.

Whatever we’ll do, we are all captured with the image of “the guy of our dreams”. Every one of us is looking for something else: tall or short, white or brown, thin or heavy, cynical or romantic, so many criteria. But in the end of the day we’re all looking for the same thing – the guy that will share with us a big piece of our life, for the better or for worst, the one that will be with us along the road and we could be next to him when he’ll need it. It can be a man or a woman, it can be wonderful, exciting and breath taking or it can be long-termed and stable. At least we have it.

There are people who’re looking after their happiness in the exteriority of their partner, looking for the perfect six-pack, the Colgate smile, and the most shining guy in the city. The perfect muscles, smooth skin and sculptured face. And there are those who’re looking for the man inside, the conqueror personality, the unbalanced nerd that explodes out with a sex-dripping tsunami of intelligence. Others are looking after the artistic person, that dances with all your senses, filling the house with sounds or words, photos or moves. And there are those who’re looking for the combination of them all, and the outcome is the man of their dream, with some defects, plus minus.

So what do I look for in a man? I was trying to define it lately to myself mostly, to think about those points that someone need to push on for me to get excited and interested. Unfortunately I discovered that they are different from one person to the other. Mysteriously, I don’t have any guidelines for looks, even though some of my friends claim that I’m a bit racist. Well, I’m not. Some of my friends envy me, but I feel like it’s a nightmare, because I like everyone – and its confusing as hell. From one side you’re surrounded by potential guys, and from the other side – you’re still alone, and it cannot be lonelier then that.

My personality guidelines are pretty clear: he needs to be intelligent, with a sense of humor and enough goodness to sell the leftovers in the market. A guy that wants to listen to you, before he wants you to listen. To read poems he wrote before impressing you with his résumé or his beautiful muscles. One that looks deep inside your eyes when he’s mad at you, or calls you back after you hanged the phone on him. Someone who kisses the tip of your nose, before he hugs you and fall asleep in your arms. Someone who’s not afraid of telling you he loves you, even if right now it’s the most random thing to say. Someone who’s waiting for introducing you to his friends, and waiting for meeting your friends. Someone that will know all your stories by heat but will be happy to hear them again, if you feel the need to tell them. Someone that will feel lucky to have you beside him, and you’ll feel like you’re holding a million dollars bill in your hands.

When you’ll find this guy, hold him strongly in your hands, and never let go. Meanwhile, I’ll keep looking for mine. He’s out there, I’m sure.

Like I told you before, I’m not the average gay bar “Hi, what’s your name? Let’s go to bed” type.

I’m more like “Hi Mike, would you spend your life with me? Could you wake up next to me and tell me it’s all right? And then you’ll go to work and I can play some piano till the afternoon?”

Meeting people is a dangerous thing, I guess. The hole they leave is far too big to fill with food or beer or songs you write to ease your mind. Now it’s 9 and I just have to wait till 4 before I call you. And the seconds before you answer will hurt…fuck. This is hard. This is not fun. But I am addicted. Till the one will come…someday he’ll come along, the man I love and he’ll be what I want the man I love. Mike, are you still there? Did you sleep well? Ho come you’re so cool about it?

I told you kid; you always want what you can’t have. Someday he’ll come along, the man I love…bla bla bla. You’re funny. You just make me laugh. Pathetic. Mike – are you still there? Did you sleep well? How come you’re so cool about it? I wish I could be that way…I whish I could be that way…I wish///