A male friend

Today I met a man, within a professional frame. He might be gay, but this is not important. We will call him Wally. I have met him some time ago, he has always been distant even if quite nice. He is nice by nature, it is just his character. Charming. Not particularly handsome. Normal, it would seem. Good in his job.

Today, he asked me several times if I work on Friday afternoon, and I did not really understand the meaning of the question. It is still an enigma. He just wanted to know if I am available on Friday in the afternoon. We will meet in 3 months again, so it is scheduled. He just underlined that if I need something, I should let him know. He noticed the tattoo on my neck. He wanted to know if I have more. I said yes… and he wanted to see. One is on my chest, above my breast. A cobra. I showed him. Then he wanted to see those on my arms. He just did not care about the scars, he saw the tattoos and asked me the reason why I have so many cobras surrounding me. For protection, I replied. He asked more. I said a little bit about my past as a punk, but without going into details. He wanted to see pictures of me with my mohawk haircut, but fortunately I do not have any.

Anyway, I felt as if someone was interested in me as a person, showing some caring. I do not know Wally, he could be a serial killer as far as I know. I do not think so. I would like to have him as a friend. I sent him a friendship request on Facebook, he accepted ten minutes later.

I am not accustomed to feeling tenderness for male humans. Usually, males do not exist for me. They are an accidental part of the world I delete as soon as I meet them. Not Wally. I care for him, and I would like to be his friend. This is ridiculous. I am so craving for affection that it is enough for me to meet a nice person to feel the need to have them as friends. Someone my age. Now it is up to him. If he wants a lesbian friend, he just needs to contact me. I will not be unkind. Maybe a Friday afternoon?