286. oppugn

Holy ****, kids, how did it already get to be September 1?

Recently, I have been getting a number of singles ads geared towards… mature adults, which is a special feeling. I’m not sure whether this is due to fact that my internet search history reads like a Stephen Ambrose text, or the fact that I am in my mid-30s.

Do all librarians experience this type of thing? Is Google trying to tell me I ought to be dating older guys?

… on the subject of dating older guys…

Yesterday I learned that one of my ex-boyfriends is now dating a guy I went on a date with several years ago, which is a weird feeling. It’s weird because virtually everyone I used to date is now with a long-term partner of some sort, and I’m the only single denominator left.

As of today, September 1:

• I came out 9 years and 8 days ago.
• My longest serious relationship to date is roughly 8 months and 20 days.
• I have now been single for 4 years, 5 months, and 8 days.
• It has been 3 years, 2 months, and 17 days since I last went on a formal date.
• The last time I had sex was 1 year, 10 months, and 16 days ago.

There’s a lot of emotional baggage wrapped up in those abstract dates. They’re like mini tombstones, with start and end dates neatly defined for each instance.

Possibly the most sobering is that, as of next year, I will have been out as gay for ten years.

That’s a huge fucking milestone.

I’ll also be turning 35 years old.

It means something to be months away from having a master’s degree, having finished my undergraduate degree roughly thirteen years ago, yet having not held a significant job, not having formally entered a career, or not having had a significant romantic relationship that lasted longer than nine months.

I have my theories as to why I still place so much stock in the institution of the traditional, committed, long-term dyad relationship. Perhaps it’s just the longing for a family unit of my own, something I have never really known or felt safe around.

Yet most of my attempts at finding a partner have either been abortive or disastrous. My relationship with Jay lasted a mere eight months and 20 days. Since then I haven’t met anyone who I was remotely interested in who was even remotely interested in me.

(Alas, note the careful wording in the last sentence.)

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A few weeks ago, I went to see one of my favorite musicals, Sondheim’s Pulitzer award-winning Sunday in the Park with George.

There are a several reasons why it’s my favorite.

As Joss Whedon once observed, the first half is about the struggle of living with the weight of genius; the second is about living in the shadow of it. Through most of my life, I have lived in fear of the shadow of expectation, whether of greatness or genius I’m not sure.

There’s another reason, though.

The Georges of both acts struggle to connect with people around them, and that is something I have never been fully able to do thus far. To an extent, I have been able to connect with people through my writing, to affect them and effect some small changes.

“Connect, George, connect!”

While I am good at a number of things, I have always felt acutely separated from those around me. While other children began learning how to negotiate social relationships in kindergarten and preschool, my formative years were spent at home, largely alone.

Because of the repressive, restrictive religious nature of my upbringing, I learned to censor myself, what not to say, who not to be. To protect myself from judgment and censure, my formative years were spent perfecting the art of keeping people away.

While other children had to learn to externalize their thoughts and organize them for an audience, my formative years were spent in my head, with my own thoughts.

In my silences, it’s not that I don’t have anything to say. It’s that I don’t know how to contextualize for others the long, ongoing conversation I’ve been having with myself for those on the outside. I don’t know if this is a skill one can learn at my age.

When I write about the improbability of finding a romantic partner “at my age,” what I mean is that I am terrified it will never happen—that in spite of my desire to connect and to belong, I lack the requisite social and emotional skills to sustain a relationship.

When I worry about seeing an increasing number of grey hairs in my beard, I think of how long I’ve been working at all this, and being nearly 35 and finishing grad school, and still feeling hopelessly behind.

When I think about dating older guys, I worry about being 35 and how much less time I’m going to have with them before they inevitably die, or before I die prematurely due to stress or the effects of my lifestyle of drinking and, frankly, lack of nutrition.

I think about how I never got to experience the insouciance of dating as a young gay man, and the joys and sorrows that go along with that.

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I’ve also been asking myself recently  what I really need in a relationship. Do I need monogamy, or will emotional fidelity be sufficient? In the land of gay men, where kink and open relationships are widely the norm, can I afford to be picky? If he’s into leather, am I okay with being the vanilla partner?

Frankly, forming one stable intimate relationship sounds exhausting by itself. I can’t fathom the emotional energy required to establish a constellation of trusted relationships to meet my needs.

These are still uncharted waters, and we’re writing the rules for same-sex relationships as we go along.

176. aleatory

So after my friends’ wedding in Stillwater this past weekend, several wonderful chats with friends, and being around more gay couples, I’ve been thinking more about what it is that I want in a future partner.

This has been something on my mind ever since I came out gay in August of 2008, and since I accepted the notion that a romantic relationship with a man was indeed possible – and that I could have one. Back then my list of must-haves was probably a mile long, as was my list of things to avoid. Somewhere on that list was faith in God, and we can safely say that’s not on the list anymore. (If anything, it’s something for me to avoid!)

My recently expired relationship with Jason also taught me a lot of things about what it is that I want in a partner, and things that I want to be for a partner.

At the top of that list is being active – socially and otherwise. Jason had the disadvantage of suffering from fibromyalgia, so being physically active wasn’t as easy for him. But it did make me realize how much I missed being with people, and just doing things – going to plays, concerts, fundraising events, and so on. And I like doing those things with a person who means a lot to me. Currently I’m leaning on close friends to fill that role, but that’s not quite a substitute for being at a concert and your boyfriend holding you while you listen to a band you both love. I was at a Cloud Cult concert on Sunday night, and a boy standing next to me was holding his girlfriend for most of it. And as much as I balk at public displays of affection, I’m secretly jealous because I’m a closeted über-romantic who really loves that shit.

I’ve also been volunteering a lot more as of late. Last Thursday I participated in an event called Dining Out for Life in which various restaurants donated a certain percentage of their proceeds towards helping people living with HIV/AIDS. My friend Adam and I were on site for lunch and dinner and two local participating restaurants, going from table to table handing out donation envelopes and telling people about the event. It felt amazing to be part of, and to be doing good, and I want to do more of that. And I want to do more of that with a special guy who also enjoys doing good, so that we can do good together.

I also want to be with a fellow gay atheist. This is one area that I’ve waffled on a little over the past two years, but the more I think about it and the more dates I’ve been on with gay guys who believe in God, the less likely it seems that we’d be able to sustain a meaningful, long-term relationship with that as a difference. Because how you view the world as an atheist is vastly different from how you view it as a theist. I should know – I used to be one.

A couple years ago my sister went into the hospital with some serious health problems. My mom called to tell me about it, and she asked if I’d pray. I said, “Mom, you know that I don’t believe in prayer.” And I don’t. I don’t believe that anyone is looking out for us, that things will necessarily work out for the best, or that there’s some grand purpose for life on this planet. She seemed flummoxed that I wouldn’t pray, so I explained that I believed my sister was in good hands with doctors who have years of medical training, and that they’d figure out what was wrong. And they did. And, of course, my parents gave all the credit to God.

I don’t want to have that argument with my husband when one of our parents gets sick or dies – or when one of us gets sick or hurt. Because it inevitably will.

I also want to be with someone who’s as big of a geek, and as deeply curious about the world as I am. Last night I got to hang out with two guys who’ve been married for eighteen years. Our conversation ranged from classic Doctor Who episodes, to music history, to politics, to confusion over pop culture references. They balanced each other in many ways, but there’s a mutual passion and love for learning in both of them that I realized I desperately want in a husband – someone whose initial reaction to something new isn’t “That’s weird” but rather, “Oooh!” I committed myself a long time ago to living my life with my eyes wide open, and I want to be with someone who has the same love for knowledge – a fellow philomath.

Another thing I’ve learned about myself is that I’m not monogamous. I’m all for getting married and committing myself to a guy I’m madly in love with, but the idea of sexual exclusivity for both of us is one that I think is unnecessary. There are many gay couples who want to be monogamous, and good for them; but I personally enjoy sexual freedom and being able to get to know other guys intellectually as well as physically.

Maybe it’s just that men view sex differently than women, but if anything I’ve found that many of my friendships have been enhanced for having a sexual element, probably because it’s not some unspoken, forbidden thing between us. Because there’s a major difference in having sex with someone you care deeply for, and sex with someone you enjoy being with.

As Dan Savage has said on his show, cheating is only cheating if you’re sneaking around on your partner. The couples I know who aren’t monogamous communicate more, are more attuned to being safe and staying healthy, and have deeply committed relationships.

And more than anything, that’s what I want.

47. Contact

“You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you’re not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable is each other.” – Contact (1997)

Sorry I’ve been away so much… not that anyone has noticed, I’m sure. Other things have taken priority over blogging, like my health, relationships, and life in general. Life has been especially crazy lately, work and teaching being two major factors.

Lately the realisation is growing on me that I’m entering my late 20s as a single man. Still not really sure what that means, but I know at the very least that it means that I’ve set Thanksgiving as a target date for no longer being a single guy.

So I just want to share a couple of thoughts and quotes before bed.

A couple of weeks ago I finally saw Up In The Air, and was rather taken aback at what a perceptive and sensitive commentary it is on modern relationships and the toll that American individualism has taken on Americans who value self-sufficiency and security above all else. Yet the yearning remains for belonging and acceptance. We’re funny creatures.

I was especially struck by this comment by one of the characters, Alex, mid-way through the film:

By the time you’re thirty four, all the physical requirements are pretty much out the window. I mean, you secretly pray he’ll be taller than you. Not an asshole would be nice. Just someone who enjoys my company. Comes from a good family. You don’t think about that when you’re younger. Wants kids… Likes kids. Wants kids. Healthy enough to play catch with his future son one day.

Please don’t let him earn more than I do. That doesn’t make sense now, but believe me, it will one day. Otherwise it’s just a recipe for disaster. Hopefully some hair on his head? But it’s not exactly a deal-breaker anymore. Nice smile… yep, a nice smile just might do it . . .

By the time someone is right for you, it won’t feel like settling… And the only person left to judge you will be the twenty-four year-old girl with a target on your back.

All that really got me thinking about the key qualities that I’m looking for in a future partner; because the older I get, the more I realise that the stuff that seemed vital, even six months ago, really isn’t all that big of a deal. The stuff that matters now is that which will matter over time, as we get older. For example, politics used to be a big deal to me. A staunch Libertarian, it was imperative that I be with someone like-minded. But now, I’d be willing to passionately fight about politics and values, but at the end of the day set it aside because loving each other matters so much more than stupid differences over who we support. I just want to feel a head on my shoulder at night as we fall asleep, because that’s what will matter over time. That’s what it is to be human.

So, remembering that looks fade and life’s a bitch: the stuff that really matter at the end of the day for me come down to about four things:

1. Deep and lasting faith in God.
2. Insatiable curiosity about everything.
3. Unquenchable passion for life.
4. Nice smile. And likes kids.

Sorry, this is heavy stuff for the weekend.

42. vexed

You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him who I so earnestly desired not to meet. That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all of England. I did not then see what is not the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape. The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.
– C.S. Lewis, “Surprised By Joy”

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I had a long-ish chat with a guy tonight from Texas from that same site. Another nice guy, this one Catholic, and again, not my type. Nor is he looking for romantic partnership at this point in his life. But it puts in me this fear that there aren’t any non-effeminate Christian guys out there who aren’t already taken; who value intellect as much as I do; who are comfortable with their sexuality and see it as compatible with their faith; and know where they’re going in life (i.e., have it mostly together) and are interested in someone to truly share a life with.

I’m just feeling like I’m never going to find what I’m looking for. I don’t want to be 35, single, dating, knocking on doors and either getting turned down or not finding what it is that I’m looking for, and I’m feeling so down and discouraged right now. I want to either not care and ditch my morals, or somehow develop fortitude and wait. Neither is making me happy at this point.

I want a Joy (C.S. Lewis’ wife), a man who understands me, and who I understand; who gets how I think, and doesn’t just tolerate me; someone who can make me, like he said of Joy, look like a fool, because he’s smart and calls me on the stupid shit that I say and do.

Here it is: I’m afraid there isn’t anyone good enough for me. That’s an incredibly haughty and arrogant thing to say because implicit in that statement is the idea that I’m all that great of a catch. But I’m afraid there isn’t anyone masculine enough, intelligent enough, or interesting enough. My date last night could barely hold a conversation about C.S. Lewis outside of the first three books of the Chronicles of Narnia, let alone his other books (including the non-fiction stuff).

I feel conflicted about that because I fear this image of l’homme idéal will get in the way of any future possible relationships. Is it so much to ask that he’s well-read, well-spoken, attractive, has a wide variety of interests, and most importantly loves God and can articulate his faith? I’m just afraid I’ll never find anyone like that before I’m thirty, and damn it, I can’t take another year of being alone. I just can’t. I’m going to end up an awful, alcoholic mess of a jaded bastard, and it seems unavoidable at this point. My standards are set so insanely high that there seems to be no one else. I’m trying so hard not to extrapolate the whole population of gay men from a single piece of fairy cake, but it just seems hopeless.

So why am I still single? Yes, I haven’t been dating all that long, but I seem to want that which does not exist. I want a Christian gay man who has not been beaten down by Christians or his own doubt and fear and has a faith that is thriving; doesn’t come with baggage that weighs him down or defines him; and basically appears as a normal guy to the outside world, like myself. Perhaps that comes back to the desire for someone to just understand and relate to me; because I feel like no one does.

Herein lies the paradox. John Donne would revel in it. I would revel in it, if he wrote a poem about it; of the seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against me finding anyone who is even remotely compatible for me.

Oh little self that walls itself within
This cage of thine own making and despair,
Resign thyself to vigor or forbear
For thou art not of ilk to bend to sin.
The bars of thy design hath been, yet bear
The imprint of Divine conspiracy
That deigns for good and ever seeks to spare
The heart from useless ill, and courtesy
Of that degree we seldom show or see
From fellow man, for he can only will
Our happiness or pleasure. Oh! to be
A beast that finds contentment in its fill!
By condescending mercy am I mired,
And standards unattainable conspired.

It’s not quite Donne, but it’ll do.

W.C. Fields observed that “comedy is tragedy happening to someone else.”

Happy Monday.

41. deschutes

For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. – 2 Corinthians 4:6-10 (NASB)

I went on my first, official, declared date as a gay man tonight. Met him, of all places (surprise, surprise) online, on OkCupid, one of the more reputable places for such sordid activities. The guys there seem less interested in just random hook-ups and more in finding something long-term. Of course there are always those trolls, but so far they’ve seemed of a better ilk there.

… so soon, so soon,
And the crows they swoon
At the two red holes
In his right side, oh…

So my date tonight was a 30-year-old guy from the southwestern suburbs. We’ve been emailing and texting for the last couple of days, and we both had free-time tonight and decided to meet up, mainly to imagine the possibility of dating together. I think we both went into it with few expectations other than to see if we were at all compatible, and that’s pretty much how it went. He was cute, and a nice guy, but it was clear from the beginning that he was just too effeminate for me. (The really creepy thing is that he reminds me a lot of my sister’s husband.) He has a lot of baggage from past relationships, doesn’t have a clear direction on where he wants to go in life; and an top of that, he didn’t know who Douglas Adams was, hadn’t read much C.S. Lewis, and in general wasn’t the intellectual or spiritual package I’m looking for in a guy. He was a music major and is into musical theatre, so we ended up talking for about five hours, but that’s probably as far as this is going to go. And then I ended up giving his car a jump because the battery was dead!

So we keep looking, try not to think about the fact that I’m terrified that every guy I date is going to be like this, and that he is out there. Somewhere.

Does anyone know how to make a Bat-Signal for masculine (i.e., “straight-acting”) Christian gay men?

… it’s gonna take a long, long time
But we’re gonna make something so fine…

Listening to Laura Viers new album right now and absolutely loving it. I actually got it a couple months back, way before the actual public release, when she opened for The Decemberists late last fall, and fell in love with her songs. Her lyrics are pretty great. Here’s one of my favourites:

July Flame
Sweet summer peach
High up in the branch
Just out of my reach

Can I call you mine?
Can I call you mine?

July Flame
I’m seeing fireworks
They’re so beautiful
Tell me why it hurts

39b. freeze ray

The Total Perspective Vortex derives its picture of the whole Universe on the principle of extrapolated matter analyses.

To explain—since every piece of matter in the Universe is in some way affected by every other piece of matter in the Universe, it is in theory possible to extrapolate the whole of creation—every sun, every planet, their orbits, their composition, and their economic and social history from, say, one small piece of fairy cake.

— Douglas Adams, The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe

Moping ahead, FYI.

Has it really been this long between updates?

Basically, right now I’m despairing and reeling from a bit of a crushing disappointment. I met up with the friend of a friend of mine who happens to be gay, Christian, going to seminary, and loves Jesus. A few weeks ago he came out to his fundamentalist parents, and the conversation didn’t go so well; so I was curious about how he was doing, and if I could be of any help. Turns out he’s one of the most level-headed guys I’ve ever met: humble, adorable, and almost everything I could have imagined in finding a guy.

Oh yeah—and gorgeous blue eyes. Gorgeous. (Did I mention that he loves Jesus?)

So we did coffee on Saturday for about four hours, then went to Solomon’s Porch on Sunday evening, and went out to Pizza Lucé afterwards to talk about the sermon.

… and in the process defined our relationship. Well, rather, I went balls out and laid everything out on the table: not something I’m used to doing. No expectations; certainly a level of hope that he might possibly feel the same way. It was one of those all-or-nothing moments, and I just wanted to know if he felt anything for me at all beyond friendship.

He was very flattered, and very nice about it, but he said he’s not interested in me romantically. We had a relatively long talk about it, and came to an understanding, and I’m as okay with it as can be.

Still, I’m feeling rather… down. This is the second guy in a row who’s not been interested in me, and everyone keeps saying that I’m this great, amazing guy; and at least this one had the decency to tell me to my face (because I asked) and not let me be led on; but no one’s interested. And yes, I’ve only been on three dates in the year and a half that I’ve been out, but I still can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Emily and I had a long talk about this last night, and then with Justin this afternoon: both of them assured me that isn’t true. So even if I’m some sort of unicorn, I’m still alone.

Perhaps my standards are too high. I am expecting a lot from one person (speaking of unicorns). But of course they’re high, because I take this quite seriously—and this is my future. Our future. And I’m not looking to date “casually” (ye gods, I hate that term).

The thing that sucks most about this is that I could do the club scene if I wanted to. I could be getting laid every night, but I won’t because that’s not me. My fucking morals get in the way, and we both know that playing the slut and having wild, crazy sex wouldn’t make me happy in the end. So I’m taking the high ground and am still miserable. In the end, I may be right, but no less alone.

I do know that the # 1 thing I’m looking for in a guy is that he loves Jesus, can articulate why, and has reconciled his sexuality and his faith to a degree where ten years down the road he won’t suddenly realise that being gay is wrong and leave me. That is a deal breaker. Even if he’s the most amazing guy in the world, if we can’t agree that Jesus is everything, we’re not going to be able to agree on anything else. Yes, that’s a massive generalisation, but when it comes down to it, that’s got to be central.

Because the fact is that I’m a progressive fundamentalist, proud of it, and I take Scripture and its place in my life very seriously. So as I said to a friend of mine at work this afternoon, if he loves Jesus (in a serious way, not in a “Jesus is my friend” way), everything else will fall into place because our priorities align.

I’m saying this knowing that such a man is probably rare, and my chances of actually finding one are about as good as getting struck by lightning three times in the same day. I’m not too hopeful or optimistic, but trying not to be bitter and jaded. No one wants chewy snickerdoodles. However, with each new rejection, all my fears and insecurities are being reinforced and confirmed, and I’m finding myself less willing to be generous, and more guarded with my heart and affections. Even this time around, being open-minded and trying to not have any expectations, I still got my heart stomped. Not intentionally, but it still happened.

Again, I’m trying not to have expectations going into this—dating, and all. There are some general things that I’m looking for, of course, besides the spiritual aspects. As a male, attractiveness is sort of a presumed quality. And some of us get a lot of flack for it, but I’m definitely looking for a masculine, non-effeminate guy. While he doesn’t need to be built and muscular, I am attracted to slimmer, trimmer guys. Toned is a plus, but not essential. An average build would be acceptable, but let’s be honest (and this is a very crude analogy so bear with me), it’s like buying furniture—first you have to imagine it being around for a while before committing to it. He’ll have to do the same with me. I’m picturing having sex with this person (and lots of it), but also waking up, going to sleep, eating, arguing and travelling with him. And some of that will happen over time as I get to know him.

On the positive side, one of the good things that’s come out of this is that in actually contemplating being with someone, I would be willing to adopt children and raise a family with the right guy; and those of you who know me know how I feel about kids, and how radical a statement that is.

I might have said this before, but I wouldn’t need to work as much as I do. The craziness of my life is largely a placebo to fill the empty void-chunks that remind me that I’m a miserable, lonely guy. And it would be nice to be able to pour time into someone rather than something. Sure, I’ve accomplished lots in the last five years, but I also want be known for being a good boyfriend.

It also made me realise that I do want to get married, regardless of whether or not it’s legal and recognised by the time we get to that point. I’m kind of old fashioned, and want to formally commit to one guy (even though the sex part might not be attached to any sort of ceremony). It would certainly be weird having my family there, if they decided to come at all. But hell, I’ve had to watch my sister kiss her husband, so they can damn well do the same for me.

But moral of the story is, via extrapolated matter analyses from a piece of fairy cake, I’ve determined that since I haven’t found the right guy at 27 that it won’t happen at all, because the statistical likelihood of actually finding what I want is pretty low. And the one guy I did find who seems absolutely perfect isn’t interested in me in that way.

So I’m sort of getting a bit of my own from when I broke up with my first boyfriend. Now the glove is on the other hand. And it hurts like a banshee, man.

In conclusion, it should be noted that I’m not giving up entirely on seminary guy (but in a non-creepy, wait and see way). I am kind of an acquired taste. Maybe over the next few months, if he doesn’t start dating someone else, I can win him over with the charms I’m going to acquire over the next few months. Maybe I could try singing some Dr. Horrible to him sometime…

I just think you need time to know
That I’m the guy to make it real
The feelings you don’t dare to feel
I’ll bend the world to our will
And we’ll make time stand still
That’s the plan
Rule the world
You and me
Any day
Love your hair

Happy Birthday to me.

009. reboot

I don’t know you, but I want you all the more for that.
Words fall through me, always fool me, and I can’t react.
Games that never amount to more than they’re meant
Will play themselves out.
Take this sinking boat and point it home. You’ve still got time.
Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice. You’ll make it now.
— Glen Hansard, “Falling Slowly”

Not sure how I’m feeling right now. I’m kind of all over the place emotionally, and I shouldn’t be. It’s stupid, but just can’t be helped. That lyric from Once sums it up.

My talks with the boy have been up and down. Maybe it’s just him. It was raining today and he said that rain gets him down, but his last couple messages have been sort of intentionally non-committal, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to be rational and let this go before we both get too attached or if he’s just moody. Last night he was quite talkative. For example, there’s what he sent today (edited for punctuation):

Date, do what need to do. I hope you find the best in what you are looking for. I do care about you though. I hope you find happiness, however that comes.  I think it’s inevitable that you will date someone in your area, as long as you’ve kept yourself in a closet I can understand how you’d long to explore that. You’ll get to know me either way—I’m here for you. Even if I am 966 miles away.

This is compared to what he wrote yesterday:

I’m really trying not to but I can’t stop thinking about you. You are so amazing, I’d really given up on the idea that people like you exist in the world.

I really shouldn’t say things like that, I ashamed of myself for admitting that. You have no idea the hell I’ve given people I consider to be friends for liking people they met online.

Then today,

You’ll find someone local, I’m sure of it. You work in theater, you live in a large area, you will.

It’s a bit of a let-down after the day or two of euphoria, and I wasn’t able to talk to him much tonight so I’m not sure what he was thinking or what drove him to write these things. (PS – he doesn’t write much.) Regardless of how I feel, it’s a rational approach: there’s a fairly large distance between us (966 mi)… 16 hours of driving… 5 U.S. States.

It just feels like a bit of a miracle that he showed up at all and that there’s a mutual attraction. It would take another miracle for a guy here to show up who’s just as amazing. It just sucks that I’m 26 and still alone with my ridiculously high standards.

But are my standards so high? Let’s examine. Here’s what I’d like, ideally:

• He doesn’t come across as Gay.

I’m taking to capitalising that word now to set it apart from homosexual or from its meaning of “happy, carefree,” and referring specifically to homosexual subculture and to effeminate males.

This quality makes it harder to find people as most guys like myself (and like my Southern friend) are in deep cover. Effeminate guys make me uncomfortable. I like masculine fellas; who possess the qualities (physical and psychological) that make them male (as distinct from women—sorry, ladies):

• Personality things like being assertive, direct, independent, objective, ambitious, adventurous, uninhibited, rational, moral, etc.
• Physical characteristics like well-defined muscles (shoulders, back, arms and chest for me), just a little bit of body hair (at least groomed/trimmed, though I do like arm and leg hair, just as long as they don’t resemble a Sasquatch from the waist down), and as a friend of mine wrote “tractor beam eyes.” I like how guys smell too. Not when they’re sweaty and gross, but their natural scent. It’s intoxicating.

I was talking to my sister the other day about boys (she is the only family member who knows) and how she wants to have all boys and no girls when she marries. I said that when I have a BF he’s going to have to teach me to wrestle so I can be the fun uncle who rough houses with the kids. On that same note, I want a guy who is going to really get into sex and isn’t afraid to hold back (see several bullets down).

It’s not that I’m ashamed of who I am. Guys like me just don’t want to be associated with the Gay community or what it stands for, and we don’t want to be pre-judged by anyone because of who we’re attracted to. It’s a private matter for us, much as sexuality is a private matter for most heterosexuals. They don’t go around flaunting their Straight orientation, so why should we flaunt ours (e.g., “We’re here, we’re queer!”)?

I also don’t want to attract men who are just interested in having sex with me, and especially not the kind who want that precisely because I’m a virgin. I can’t be responsible for what might happen to such an individual who did that. Most male relationships are based on trust and mutual respect. Treating me like a piece of meat is not respectful and will not earn my trust.

• He is smart, can carry on a decent conversation, and is passionate about the things he’s interested in.

This is fairly important to me. A guy who’s just into pop culture and movie references does not interest me. That’s not even mildly cute. Just annoying. We’ve got to be able to connect on an intellectual level, which is why I’ve been enjoying conversing with the Southern boy. It’s not enough to have the same interests. You run out of those after a while. I don’t think I’d want to date someone in theatre. There are way too many Gay guys in theatre.

• We are both very much into each other physically.

Again, this is true of my current prospect. We really like each other in that way. But it’s almost a moot point at present because of the distance factor. Again, he doesn’t remotely look Gay or metrosexual—but he is good looking. Very good looking. Kind of in a rugged, masculine sort of way. Not sure how to describe it.

If you know me at all, you know that I’m a very passionate person, even though I have no experience sexually yet, I’d like to be with someone who is a little aggressive (within reason, and certainly not abusive), isn’t afraid to get crazy, and is also okay with meeting that in me (again, I have no idea what I’m like sexually).

• He is looking for something more lasting; to connect.

So many people, homosexual and heterosexual, have empty sexual encounters where they just use each other to get off. Gay culture tends to be especially about that—one-night stands, anonymous sex, etc. I’m 26, getting past my prime a little, and not looking to mess around. After all, I’ve waited this long. When I have sex, it’s going to be with someone I care deeply about, trust completely, and already have a connection (emotional, spiritual) with. The physical aspect of the relationship will be an outgrowth of the elements that have already been established.

It would be nice to be with someone who already knows his way around and is going to do his best to make my first time as good a one as possible. It doesn’t even bother me if he has been with other guys, just so long as he wants to be with me because he loves my soul, and I his.

• We;re on the same spiritual wavelength.

This is one area where Southern boy and I are a bit divergent. He’s not quite back with Christianity yet. I’m at the very least lapsed but I do have a background in Biblical studies and theology. But to be honest, apart from going to church, I’m not terribly invested in my spiritual life or development. I want to be. I was raised with conservative, fundamentalist beliefs. I still hold to the tenets of the Nicene Creed.

• One G-d, Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth and of all things visible and invisible;
• That Jesus Christ was the only begotten Son of G-d before all worlds;
• That he came to earth for our salvation, was crucified, died, buried and on the third day came back to life;
• One baptism for the remission of sins;
• And the resurrection from death and the life of the world to come.

These are the non-negociables for me. And he’s so close—that’s the infuriating thing. He’s just missing a few key things. His beliefs seem to be a mash of Eastern philosophy, some Pagan, mixed with elements of Christianity. He hated Christians for a long time, mainly because of how he’s been treated. I’m not a Bible thumper, but my beliefs are important to me. Don’t know how they actually affect my living, but I’m not willing to back down from those five statements above.

Because it isn’t enough to be spiritual for me. This goes hand-in-hand with my desire for a passionate person, someone who is willing to take a stand. And if he has actually wrestled with the reality of being a Christian homosexual and the theology behind it, that’s pretty sexy too.

So where does this leave me? Confused again. I feel like someone hit the restart button and my system is checking the updates. So Southern boy and I may not get to be together in the way that I hoped. But we will continue to talk. Maybe that will deepen into something more. It might not, and I have to be okay with that.