Is This Love?It's true, about my being a closeted gay man. I am in my thirties, and realized for most of my life that I have both fantasied about men and been attracted to men. I don't like the idea of committing myself to the word, "Gay," though. It always felt like a title I would wear alone just for the sake of coming out. I am single, and always seeking a hot guy that knows how to talk to my eager senses, and to turn on my sexy dark side. I dream vividly. What else can I say, but I think of a man that will do it like no one else can.
Maybe I am seeking the one that I can't live without. I have met so many men since last summer, when I started living on the edge of the gay scene. So many guys, I think, as I look back over those months gone by. I know now that I could live with all of them for company, but not any one that I could live without in my lovelife. Big mistake to continue on that road knowing that I could pick one of them, just because I could live with him, a Mr. Good Enough to call my boyfriend. Except for one. One that I think about when Rhianna's, "You're the One," plays on the radio. It's not like hearing Rhianna's, "Where Have You Been?" No. That song stays with me for the night I arrived on the scene, and a beefcake go-go dance and I got lit up during his show. Awesome time. I mean, where have you been when I dreamed about meeting someone with a romantic side, with looks that would make me yield to my carnal instincts, that is a man on the street and is my prize fighter in the bedroom? He was the one who I took home, who truly felt like "the one" for me, with certainty- anytime and anywhere, and all after a night we had spent together doing things that good prostitutes don't talk about.
Okay. So, I had a one night stand that ended miserably. Why? I was looking for the end to my search. Instead, I found a new bump on a familiar, empty road leading no where. The questions rose from my conscience, and I had no communication from that man again. Maybe Pink, in her video, "Try," would describe it best.
I found others. I made sure that I was attracted. I made sure that they could kiss. They were all intelligent, some emotionally, while others were just damned smart or streetwise. Good nights were spent in many. The good mornings initially left the animal in me satisfied, with promises to call back later until each would not call back. I belong with him, I would think, finding only that I was not on anyone's mind later. Rejection, sadness, and self-doubt were feelings that I had forgotten. Now, those feelings were mixed with memories of the man on man high, so I opened up to friends for the first time.
I belong, as I am not alone in this. My friends were not surprised. I didn't want to lie about what I enjoyed, and in turn, they shared their stories. Straight people want the same sex, but not all of the time. Maybe I am more like them, I discovered. Maybe I had to say something about this part of me, or feel the resentment of others who suffer in silence, too? I had to take a chance, or make company with defeat. No, I am bigger than that. Consistently.
Experience is second to the loneliness. I felt like I had been released from the life I knew in the closet when I made my way into the gay bars last summer. Last month, I visited an annual party for the bears. Yeah, I've been told that I'm a bear..my hairy chest, manicured beard and huge grin. I had to go see what the bears do. I crossed town to go to their party. I was grrrd and woofed at by five guys at the door. I felt good bathing in all of the attention. I partied with one bear from twelve to six in the morning, popping several ******* and making out until it was almost pointless. Where he went, so did that excitement. Where they all went, so did the expectations and excitement all turning into a waxing sense of loss.
I want a lot. I want a hot guy that likes to come home to me. I'm not possessive, yet,..but I know that life gets too complicated with commitments to work and others. The friends, family, work, and life can be overwhelming to me. 'veI got that. I would want to sleep with a guy next to me and hold him all night long, or to be held when sex is too much to give. To take a long, hot shower together is fine with me. To make out in the morning and eat breakfast naked together works quite well in my mind, too. Most guys won't commit to that much. It's here, I kept thinking that I was giving it away. I guess that they, too, sensed that they could live with it, but not without it.
So what does being gay mean? I like the same sex. I will sleep with a guy, though I am one, too. I won't commit to just anyone for lack of attention anymore. I am masculine and guys sometimes feel intimidated by this. I have not found the guys like me and coming out, or the younger ones that are on the down low like I was once. To find a guy that knows his worth, yet love and leave me makes me a little weary of my choices now. I found my worth in the process. Is it a compromise in the process of slowing the sex down, to settle when the time seems right? Time is nobodies friend, and calling myself gay did not make any sense when I was alone, nor does it now when I am here sitting to write about how this has meant that I lived through some sweet and sour gay times with less to show for my future as an independent guy. First, self-service, then time to acquaint myself to Mr. (whatever)...
I need a friend in my boyfriend. My best friend is married to another man, but he looks out for me. He lets me know when I am running low or hot in my life. I don't get to see any gay men where I work, and I think that networking within my professional community will help to improve my prospects. Like meeting my FWB when I was in college, and just getting by at the time once had done. I see more permanence in choosing a guy, making personal compromises as needed, and sticking to it as with heterosexual relationships. I treat myself better now, by taking care of others and myself for once. I need a friend that can hold his own, care about me, and is capable of being intimate, too.
I feel so much better now that I have written this. I am not reaching into the unknown for one night stands and their misery. I am sounding off in a place where I can count a few of the blessings I have found along my life's path. This is too clear. Holding on to the closet door is not easy, nor should it be. I care enough to let go of the closet door, enjoying what I do in my life and not doing things unless I can sense that it will be truly worth my time. For me, and for others.
Funny how my perspective has changed with no men moving though it at this time. Maybe these feelings are more integrated within me, were more valuable than dismisable as I had once perceived. The need to fulfill each feeling just takes a different approach than I would have come to understand previously. The long view was met with mutual willingness, but the emotions at hand were just not bonding strongly enough to merit the care put into them. So, two guys walk into a bar. They meet, screw, and both describe the events completely differently afterwards. There is a definite reason why that is so common in the gay community. There is always room for one more, but learning how to survive within the community takes special attention to one's self, and all that comes with the being.