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“Confused?” Theo asks, with only a slight hint of curiosity in his voice. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” I volunteer. “I mean… I’m not really sure who I am. I’m like twenty-two people in one and none of them are the real me. You know what I mean?”

Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I knew what I meant and I was the one that had said it. It sounded right in my head, but now that it was out there, I wasn’t so sure that it made any sense. I’ve never tried to explain myself like this to anyone before, because to everyone else, I am the person I portray. No-one has seen the real me, and it’s been so long that I’m not sure I would recognize myself anymore.

“I think so,” Theo answers. He moves, the coats behind us rustling on their hangers telling me that he’s repositioning himself. When he speaks again, his voice comes from directly in front of me. “It’s like you’re not the real you and the you that people see is just a front. I get that. I’m exactly the same.”

He was? And there was me thinking that I was the only one this messed up.

“Exactly,” I nod, not that Theo can see me. “So who are you?”

It’s a loaded question, but seeing as we’re never going to see each other again, where’s the harm? Tomorrow, I will have forgotten about tonight and forgotten about the boy that I shared a closet with.

“Everyone expects me to be the sporting star of the future,” Theo exhales, his warm breath caressing my cheek. I almost recoil at how close he is, but I don’t. “They want me to be this big jock and get a scholarship and play at a pro level. Then I’ll marry this beautiful model, settle down and have a couple of cute kids. It’ll be like living the dream.”

“And that’s not what you want?”

“Nope,” Theo laughs shallowly. “That’s the complete one-eighty of what I want.”

I start to build an image of Theo in my mind and slowly try to decipher who this boy is. I can picture him with that dream life that’s being forced upon him, but on the flip side, I can’t see him living that life at all. I conjure up an image of him living in the middle of nowhere, with a rather dowdy wife and a large brood of kids running around chasing the family’s Golden Retriever. Maybe it’s not the same thing as he’s thinking of, but it is the opposite of what everyone else wants for him.

“What is that you want?” I ask, wondering if what I envision for him is anything close to what he sees.

“I want a quiet life,” his voice sounds dreamy. “I want the wife and kids, but I want love and a family. I love sports, but it’s not what I want to do with my life. I don’t live for it. This is going to sound stupid, but I actually really want to be an engineer. Math and Physics are my thing, so it kind of fits.”

I would never have pegged him as an engineer, but it sounded better than a superficial NFL player, so props to him for actually having a brain and knowing how to use it. It’s just a shame not all guys are like him.

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