Well, I wouldn't mind if some cute young thing knocked on my door, but I'm not expecting it.
I grew up knowing I was going to hell because I liked other males. In school I was generally hanging with the teachers, not other students, so I would have somebody I could actually TALK to. Never was the wild, rambunctious, roustabout type of boy. No, I was the quiet reader, introspective and alone. And if spite of basically being raped by my father, I would lie awake in bed dreaming of being kidnapped by someone who would be gentle, tender and loving.
Now that I'm "all grown up" I dream of being able to be there for a young boy, to help guide them on the path that will eventually lead them to become a man. A job I see as a solem honor while all too many parents seem like if they didn't have their kids names and birthdates in their phones, they'd NEVER remember. (And forget anyway half the time.)
But I grew up at a time when society didn't approve. Still doesn't in some ways. That left me feeling that at least if I was dead, I wouldn't be actively EVIL my liking other males. And worse yet, to want to spread that EVIL by wanting to reach out. Then came McMartin and all that nonsense.
My dream job, if I could still work, would be in a day care, Big Brother, after school intervention, that sort of thing. Whey I could reach out to boys who need help. Who I -could- help. And in so doing, help them become the best that they can be while also healing old wounds in myself for things having NOT gone that way.
But I'm old. I'm disabled. I've got lots of time, but no strength or money. Washed up and discarded by society before my time.
Ah.... Maybe that's what I look for most. That sparkle in the eye of a boy who still believe that dreams CAN come true and if they just clap hard enough, farries will live!