Dec 02, 2010 7:23 PM GMT
It is amazing how many times you will hear someone say they’ve never been in a relationship and have all but given up. You have to laugh when you look at their profile and see that they are barely legal. I have news for all the single guys out there. If you’re miserable being single you won’t be much happier being coupled.
Now I have a story to tell so bear with me. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I reconnect with old flings. They have all been partnered for many years. One looked me up recently and then I decided to look up another. Most recently I looked up and old friend, I’ll call Kurt (not his real name), whom I never dated but wanted to. He has been partnered for 12 years now and I couldn’t help feeling like the last single guy standing.
I met Kurt in my mid-20s. I was out with a group of friends and we met playing pool at a gay bar. He was dating someone at the time but that didn’t stop me from realizing he was the portrait of the type of boyfriend I had wanted ever since I came to terms with my sexuality. I started realizing I couldn’t ignore my sexuality in college. A lot of my friends were hot jocks on the basketball and rugby teams and I inevitably had crushes on a few of them. When I came out I wanted so badly to meet a similar hot jock that didn’t just look the part but played it as well. Kurt fit this description to a tee. He did all kinds of sports and had a lust for adventure. He was the kind of guy who turned heads. To give just one example, once when we left a bar with another friends, three women who looked like they belonged on Sex in the City stopped in their tracks. “What kind of bar is this”, they asked. “It’s a gay bar”, Kurt answers and we hear a collective sigh of disappointment.
One day I ran into him and he told me he had ended his relationship and that we should go out sometime. I remember thinking “did he just ask me out on a date”? I found out on the “date” that no I’m not his type. He tells me he feels so comfortable with me because he can be completely himself. As he put it “I can show up at your messy apartment and just ask to use your shower (which he had just done that evening) and know you won't find my request strange. ” Although I felt some disappointment I was happy to be his friend.
He had a glamorous life working between NY and LA. He did a lot of work for a famous director who was a big hit around that time. He confided in me about his struggles with his relationships, I learned about his dark side, he even flew me around Manhattan when he was getting his pilot license (just for the fun of it). He wrote to me a few times (snail mail which shows how ancient we are) while I was living in Europe. But after three years abroad I returned and realized his old address and phone numbers no longer worked.
One night at the movies as I was watching the credits go by (something I never do) I saw his name go by. I figured he was in LA but to my surprise I would stumble upon him playing pool once again at a bar in NYC. We picked up where we left off with our friendship but I would eventually loose touch with him once again.
The last time I saw him I was surprised at how old he was looking. He was still in great shape but was losing his hair and his face was looking more weathered than most guys his age. He was only in his late 30s at this point. We spoke a bit on the street and he told me he was moving to LA.
Yesterday we reestablished contact. We exchanged a couple of emails and that is when I learned he has been partnered now for 12 years. He just recently turned 50. I checked out his Facebook photos and saw he was still as fit as ever and had a sexy handsome mature look. In fact he didn’t look much older than he had in his late 30s. I tried to determine which one of the guys in the photos was his boyfriend. He had one photo with a really hunky surfer that I thought might work but he also had one with an Asian guy. He had a thing for Asian and Latin men and sure enough the Asian guy is his current boyfriend. I felt a bittersweet feeling wash over me as I looked at all the photos thinking about how I never did settle with the jock like him I had always hope to meet.
Last night while watching a basketball game he pokes me in Facebook and we start chatting. He discusses his mid-life career crisis. He works as a cameraman and doesn’t do much directing anymore. I knew this as I had found his bio on the internet movie database when I googled him. He tells me it must be nice to be financially independent. He talked about his relationship. He said it was honest and loving but he also told me about the challenges. I felt a familiarity reemerge from all the past conversations we had had. I always loved his directness and honesty. That chat helped put my temptation to over glamorize his life in perspective.
Near the end of a long chat he asks me if I’m happy these days. Very, I said. The bitter part of the formerly bittersweet feeling was now gone. I was feeling a warm contentment pass threw me. Once I stopped using the fact that I’m single as an excuse to be unhappy, I told him, my bouts of depression seemed to vanish. I’ve come to accept the fact that I may remain single the rest of my life but I also realize that it doesn’t make me any less happy than anyone else in or out of a relationship.
I had to give up on relationships temporarily to reach this point but lately I’m back on the market. I have past the half-century mark and have yet to cohabitate with a boyfriend. So you can imagine how hard I laugh when I see someone bemoaning their perpetual single fate and they haven’t even reached the age I was when I came out. I accept this as a possible fate without the slightest pang of pain. I would still love to share my happiness with someone but that someone has to want it and I know that I can’t rely on him to make me happy just as he can’t expect me to bring him happiness. I’ve tried too many times to lift unhappy guys into my world and all they want to do is pull me into their tiny comfort zone. They want me to feel the warm coziness of melancholy and share their bitter feelings with me but I know, only too well, about the poisonous side effects. Misery doesn’t just love company it demands it.
In all the years of being single I’ve learned how to fill my empty moments with excitement. Sometimes this adventure takes care of my carnal urges or leads to a romantic one night stand or vacation romance. Other times it doesn't involve anyone else: just me jumping naked in the plunge pool of a waterfall, or riding a wave with a dolphin on an empty pristine beach near home. Those moments give me the kind of euphoria people get when they fall in love or crave when they resort to drugs. So go out and get some and stop pining.
Unfortunately most of the guys I wish were reading this advice have probably not read this far. They are usually bored after the first paragraph and off to look at more photos. Nevertheless, I’d love to hear someone say what I have written helps put the pursuit of love and happiness in perspective.
Now I have a story to tell so bear with me. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I reconnect with old flings. They have all been partnered for many years. One looked me up recently and then I decided to look up another. Most recently I looked up and old friend, I’ll call Kurt (not his real name), whom I never dated but wanted to. He has been partnered for 12 years now and I couldn’t help feeling like the last single guy standing.
I met Kurt in my mid-20s. I was out with a group of friends and we met playing pool at a gay bar. He was dating someone at the time but that didn’t stop me from realizing he was the portrait of the type of boyfriend I had wanted ever since I came to terms with my sexuality. I started realizing I couldn’t ignore my sexuality in college. A lot of my friends were hot jocks on the basketball and rugby teams and I inevitably had crushes on a few of them. When I came out I wanted so badly to meet a similar hot jock that didn’t just look the part but played it as well. Kurt fit this description to a tee. He did all kinds of sports and had a lust for adventure. He was the kind of guy who turned heads. To give just one example, once when we left a bar with another friends, three women who looked like they belonged on Sex in the City stopped in their tracks. “What kind of bar is this”, they asked. “It’s a gay bar”, Kurt answers and we hear a collective sigh of disappointment.
One day I ran into him and he told me he had ended his relationship and that we should go out sometime. I remember thinking “did he just ask me out on a date”? I found out on the “date” that no I’m not his type. He tells me he feels so comfortable with me because he can be completely himself. As he put it “I can show up at your messy apartment and just ask to use your shower (which he had just done that evening) and know you won't find my request strange. ” Although I felt some disappointment I was happy to be his friend.
He had a glamorous life working between NY and LA. He did a lot of work for a famous director who was a big hit around that time. He confided in me about his struggles with his relationships, I learned about his dark side, he even flew me around Manhattan when he was getting his pilot license (just for the fun of it). He wrote to me a few times (snail mail which shows how ancient we are) while I was living in Europe. But after three years abroad I returned and realized his old address and phone numbers no longer worked.
One night at the movies as I was watching the credits go by (something I never do) I saw his name go by. I figured he was in LA but to my surprise I would stumble upon him playing pool once again at a bar in NYC. We picked up where we left off with our friendship but I would eventually loose touch with him once again.
The last time I saw him I was surprised at how old he was looking. He was still in great shape but was losing his hair and his face was looking more weathered than most guys his age. He was only in his late 30s at this point. We spoke a bit on the street and he told me he was moving to LA.
Yesterday we reestablished contact. We exchanged a couple of emails and that is when I learned he has been partnered now for 12 years. He just recently turned 50. I checked out his Facebook photos and saw he was still as fit as ever and had a sexy handsome mature look. In fact he didn’t look much older than he had in his late 30s. I tried to determine which one of the guys in the photos was his boyfriend. He had one photo with a really hunky surfer that I thought might work but he also had one with an Asian guy. He had a thing for Asian and Latin men and sure enough the Asian guy is his current boyfriend. I felt a bittersweet feeling wash over me as I looked at all the photos thinking about how I never did settle with the jock like him I had always hope to meet.
Last night while watching a basketball game he pokes me in Facebook and we start chatting. He discusses his mid-life career crisis. He works as a cameraman and doesn’t do much directing anymore. I knew this as I had found his bio on the internet movie database when I googled him. He tells me it must be nice to be financially independent. He talked about his relationship. He said it was honest and loving but he also told me about the challenges. I felt a familiarity reemerge from all the past conversations we had had. I always loved his directness and honesty. That chat helped put my temptation to over glamorize his life in perspective.
Near the end of a long chat he asks me if I’m happy these days. Very, I said. The bitter part of the formerly bittersweet feeling was now gone. I was feeling a warm contentment pass threw me. Once I stopped using the fact that I’m single as an excuse to be unhappy, I told him, my bouts of depression seemed to vanish. I’ve come to accept the fact that I may remain single the rest of my life but I also realize that it doesn’t make me any less happy than anyone else in or out of a relationship.
I had to give up on relationships temporarily to reach this point but lately I’m back on the market. I have past the half-century mark and have yet to cohabitate with a boyfriend. So you can imagine how hard I laugh when I see someone bemoaning their perpetual single fate and they haven’t even reached the age I was when I came out. I accept this as a possible fate without the slightest pang of pain. I would still love to share my happiness with someone but that someone has to want it and I know that I can’t rely on him to make me happy just as he can’t expect me to bring him happiness. I’ve tried too many times to lift unhappy guys into my world and all they want to do is pull me into their tiny comfort zone. They want me to feel the warm coziness of melancholy and share their bitter feelings with me but I know, only too well, about the poisonous side effects. Misery doesn’t just love company it demands it.
In all the years of being single I’ve learned how to fill my empty moments with excitement. Sometimes this adventure takes care of my carnal urges or leads to a romantic one night stand or vacation romance. Other times it doesn't involve anyone else: just me jumping naked in the plunge pool of a waterfall, or riding a wave with a dolphin on an empty pristine beach near home. Those moments give me the kind of euphoria people get when they fall in love or crave when they resort to drugs. So go out and get some and stop pining.
Unfortunately most of the guys I wish were reading this advice have probably not read this far. They are usually bored after the first paragraph and off to look at more photos. Nevertheless, I’d love to hear someone say what I have written helps put the pursuit of love and happiness in perspective.
