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.

029. long division

My hand won’t hold you down no more
The path is clear to follow through
I stood too long in the way of the door
And now I’m giving up on you
No, not “baby” anymore – if I need you
I’ll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we’ll only have to wave.¹

---

This will most likely be the last post about Aaron.

We started talking again. He emailed a few days ago, and I was glad to hear from him because I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to even contact him. It’s obvious from the tone of our emails that we’re in a very different place now. Apparently he’s “moved on” and is even seeing someone, some guy who was married for fifteen years and finally decided he couldn’t live a lie anymore. Apparently it didn’t take Aaron very long to get over me.

That feels great.

He sent me a letter on Saturday that arrived today. Four pages of angry ranting. Sure, he was angry, and he has a right to feel hurt. I can’t deny him that. But he included lovely passages like, “you really played this well,” or “as far as your virginity goes, I wouldn’t worry too much,” or “you’re just one more notch on my bedpost,” or “I knew better than to put any trust in a Christian who also thinks he can combine [his faith] with his very unbiblical sexuality,” or “Christianity has given me a lifetime of empty promises, and I should expect the same from those who claim to be its followers—including you.”

Again, feels great.

He did email to tell me that he was angry when he wrote that letter, but that doesn’t help at all. In hindsight I should have just thrown the letter away, but I needed some sort of closure. This was it, I guess. My first relationship gone in a cloud of very angry smoke. Everyone told me it probably wouldn’t last, but I didn’t want to believe that—partly the idea that it could be just another statistic, but more that I could be just like everyone else.

There’s a part of me that thinks I’m somehow different from “everyone else,” and in some ways I am—just not an exception apparently, or just not that lucky. My sister found her husband on the first try, and they’re very happy together. My friends Tim and Sarah had never dated prior to getting together, and are also blissfully married now. Nothing ever seems to come easily to me, and just I’m sick of it.

What hurts most was that “one more notch on my bedpost” remark. Sure, it was said in anger and out of hurt, but that was pretty low thing to say, especially considering that I’d never even kissed someone before having sex with him.

You know—he was drunk my first time, and apparently doesn’t even remember it. That’s a great start to my love life. I’m tempted to call it quits right now and follow my original course of becoming successful in my artistic career, but I know I’m more rational than that. I’m angry, and I never make good decisions when angry. At least I’m aware of that.

So what have I learned?

And when the day is done, and I look back
And the fact is I had fun, fumbling around
All the advice I shunned, and I ran
Where they told me not to run, but I sure
Had fun, so
I’m gonna fuck it up again
I’m gonna do another detour
Unpave my path²

From the very beginning, in April, after my first phone call with Aaron, a voice in my head was saying “Wait.” Looking back now, it was probably God but at the very least my common sense that is rarely wrong (which in that case has Divine written all over it); but I stumbled blindly on, determined to get what it was that I wanted, which was a guy to be with, regardless of whether he was the right one or not.

(Did I mention he was stoned the first time he talked to me? Isn’t that nice?)

I was just so afraid of being alone, and he seemed like such a great guy. He is, but by the time I actually got close to him my desideratum disappeared. He’ll be perfect for someone else, but in the meantime am starting to lose hope for myself. My parents were close to thirty when they got married, and I swore I wouldn’t be that old.

Looks like it might be even later.

I never good at being on time.

My standards are pretty high, which worries me. Does a Christian gay man exist who is masculine, isn’t into “the scene,” shares my conservative political and theological (though not fundamentalist) values, is well read, appreciates art and is maybe even musical, and can hold up his end of a conversation? Aren’t unicorns mythical creatures?

Do I wanna do right, of course but
Do I really wanna feel I’m forced to
Answer you, hell no.²

It’s great when music I used to love for entirely different reasons suddenly becomes true and relevant. There are tons of love songs and just as many breakup songs (my current favourite being Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats”). I relate so strongly now to what Fiona writes in “Paper Bag”:

I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had
But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
– I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag

I’m glad we had this little chat.

~ Muirnin

---

¹ Fiona Apple. “Love Ridden” from “When the Pawn” (1999)
² Fiona Apple. “Mistake” from “When the Pawn”