It's all about the cliche

I came out. I went to the clubs. I had the awful boyfriends, but at least I didn’t do the drugs.

I bought the books, I bought the toys, I buy the magazines and leave them on the coffee table, just to remind Mum.

But what do I do now? Now I have a guy who I’ll be with for the foreseeable future, how do I have a proper, adult gay relationship? There are no books on that! And how does a young man raised in the era of Sex and the City and Bridget Jones hold anything together without a guidebook, column or gaggle of like minded friends?

Needless to say, although I will anyway for the sake of padding, many gay men my age could not give a damn about having a meaningful relationship. Their idea of commitment is hanging around until the other guy has cum. But I am on the Great Relationship Express, going in the direction of marriage, kids and a thirty year mortgage, even though I’m on the smaller, harder, parallel gay road. The problem being everyone else has GPS, and we have to drive through fog.

I don’t know how to have a successful gay relationship. I don’t know how to avoid or cross the major pitfalls, or even what they are! So I guess all I can do is talk endlessly about what is happening to me, and maybe the road ahead shall reveal itself to me, and to all those on its mysterious journey.

On the phone the other day, Scott tells me about this fabulous new gay club, with men only nights and strippers. Immediately I am green with everything, I want to go! But don’t panic, he is taking Darren.

Who? I ask after a short pause. Oh it just his gay friend from High School. Whose house he was at the other night, albeit with his female friends too. But that was the first time I had heard about ‘Darren.’

Do I trust him? Of course I bloody trust him, why would you even say that? But isn’t there a point? Can trust only take so many pings until snap! Something goes loose in my brain?

It all comes down to my fear of gay friends. As a nymphomaniac, I do not believe in the gay friend. Is there perhaps a mutual, but unspoken attraction? Unrequited love? Or just a persistent fuck buddy? In any straight male-female friendship, I bet there is usually one of the three. So a male-male platonic situation, how platonic is it?

I don’t have any gay friends. Before I met my fiancé, I always wanted more out of any gay person I met, and after I met Scott, I always wondered if they wanted something more out of me, or him, or better yet, us.

And I guess it bothers me that the two of them will be out at a gay club, together, and people could think they are a couple, at which my possessive nature trembles. But when you are continents apart, it can be hard to be possessive.

Although, I do not want to be the boyfriend who says no. I do say no to lots of things, like doing the dishes or him watching the sport while I am trying blow him, but I have never said, No! You cant see that person. No! You cant go there! I admit I came close when a friend of his turned out to be a nazi, and he wanted to go to her party (birthday, that is), and I’m sure I have train loads of relatives who turned in their Polish graves, but for the sake of ending a fight, I didn’t say No.

So I cant forbid him from seeing this guy socially, and I just have to accept that we are going to be apart for a while. Our relationship is basically on hold, but should our lives? NO. Perhaps this Darren is my stand in. He cried so hard when we were driving to the airport, and it is so hard being far away for a long time from the person you love so much. He could need a shoulder to cry on, and someone to go with to the gay clubs; seeing how we have almost all female friends, going on a gay night out can feel a bit like being a pimp.

So I guess the only way to overcome this is acceptance, and although clichéd, trust. And with these tools, and faith in each other, it will be the only way to get through our being apart. Who knows, I myself might make a gay, platonic friend, as when your not with the one who makes time stand still, it can give you a chance to grow.

Post No 1

So after giving up my friends, family, school, a flat and fabulous collection of computer porn, I moved to the other side of the world.

Two weeks later I met the most amazing guy. Hot, handsome and funny, three months and we moved in together, another three and we were engaged…to be civil partnered, but for the benefit of myself and the annoyance of others, I’ll call it marriage.

After a year of what in hindsight can only be called unadulterated bliss, I find myself back in the old country, and all the problems which I cleverly ran away from, are all still right here, ploughing through emotions as normal.

Why did I leave my life of meaningless tranquillity and meaningful sex? Well my visa expired and over there they enjoy locking up illegal immigrants. Plus I really wanted to go to University; because its free and I want to be in the gay elite when I’m older, naturally.

So the fiancé is living it up until December 28th, he has courses to finish and ends to tie and etcetera etcetera. Which leaves me ten thousand miles away, typing in the middle of the night while right about now the sun is bursting in through his window, gently waking him and shining its daylight onto a marvellous upper body. Ah such is life, such is love. I just hope both will last these next four months.