So, I meet this guy. He’s age appropriate, he’s sober, he has a great sense of humor and we CONNECT. I mean..we connect intellectually. After a few hours I kinda know that (if I wanted to) I could really make this work, that he could easily be the one. We spend a couple of days together, we eat dinner, we get closer. It feels GREAT.
So, if everything is so fucking PERFECT why does meeting this special someone make me feel so damned vulnerable?
Let’s try again.
So, I meet this guy, he’s cute and funny and sober. We connect immediately and I can’t stop thinking about the future. No..DUNCAN ROY..stop thinking! Stay here and now. Be present. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? To fall in love? But, like loving the little dog I am suddenly bound and gagged like Houdini. I begin to talk myself out of a beautiful time. I can no longer move freely. I tell myself that I can..I can be easily wounded.
When the big dog was killed I called my mother and cried. Later, I felt sick that I’d called her. I felt so embarrassed. I called my MOTHER sobbing. My Mother hates dogs. What sort of person calls the most hard-hearted person in their life expecting sympathy? I felt like a FOOL. Who would I call if this went wrong? My Mother can’t take a love affair between two men seriously! Say, for arguments sake, I fell in love with this man..what would happen if he left me? YOU SEE! I am already writing the final, tragic chapter.
What happens when I fall in love? I am as fragile as a Ming vase. I want to stare into their eyes, kiss their lips. I want him right here right now. I want to be we. I want to be a line in a popular love song. I don’t want to raise goats on my OWN.
The worst of being an addict is that I can so easily transmute from sex to love addiction.
Today’s big GRIPE:
Most gay men suffer from Peter Pan syndrome. Forever teenagers, these identical looking men-beards, tats and manscaped pubes seem unable or unwilling to grow up. They behave like pre-pubescent boys, screaming around the world in half naked gangs looking for the next big cock.
I used to care that these men had no respect for monogamy but now I can’t be bothered what they do or don’t respect.
When we are not objectifying each other we encourage others to objectify us. We demand objectification. Gay men are in a constant state of sexual red alert. We advertise our bodies rather than our minds, constantly comparing our pecs our lats etc.
Let me tell you lads-this is why nobody takes us seriously when we want them to. If you want equality, put your shirts on.
Start taking yourselves seriously and grow the fuck up.
What about the guys who don’t want to take their shirts off? The guys who don’t spend hours in the gym? Are we expected to compare and despair? No, prepare to be ignored lads. Prepare to be marginalized.
This is exactly why we will never have any kind of political leader. Remember Harvey Milk? I mean, who would vote for Milk now? His teeth are bad, he isn’t in the gym 24/7. Who would want to fuck that queen? Our message has been lost amongst the lotions, hair dyes, gym clothes, and food fads that really motivate the community.
There is a terrible fascism that pervades the ‘gay community’, racism, and ageism-it’s all there. Sadly, due to our ingrained sense of entitlement, there is little or no regard for the similarities-only the differences. Which means, that when the chips are down, we are never ready to fight together for our common good.
Funny thing happened after an AA meeting last night. A gay bloke was squirting hand sanitizer over himself and others after having shaken a stranger’s hand-the same guy who had been describing shoving his tongue up some random ass the night before.
Yay! Vote no on ‘Prop 8’.
- This Thing Called Love Addiction (femalesexualhealth.wordpress.com)