The Simple, Extraordinary Delights of Gay Marriage
For me, it is heavenly
My husband is washing the dishes from our meal. Suddenly, I appreciate that such a benign act is a gift of love. I momentarily put down my drying towel and gaze at my husband in wonderment.
How did I ever hit the jackpot in marrying him?
I reach over and gently pat him on the bottom twice.
He looks over at me and smiles. And he says, “You know, I married the world’s greatest husband.”
Such a simple exchange between two men who are deeply in love.
Life Alone
In my earlier life as a single gay Christian, there was always that hole — a void that could not be filled.
Sure, I tried to be celibate. It felt purposeful, like I knew I was on the road God intended for me.
As a celibate, I had numerous gay Christian Facebook friends. I face-time chatted with my better friends. Other friends were involved in a non-intimate message and response. In a few cases, I would visit a Facebook friend (or conversely, he would visit me). The weekend was usually fine. But we both knew there would not be any follow-on encounter for months, if at all.
I was lonely.
It was not sex that I craved. It was, instead, an actual long term relationship with another single gay Christian who lived near me. I longed for something consistent and dependable.
I tried gay dating.
Such an experience is not for the faint of heart. While I thought I was a real catch for any man, apparently, the men on the dating site thought otherwise. I did not want hookups. I wanted a real relationship that could last forever.
So, I would give the dating app a chance to prove itself for about a month. Nothing of substance ever happened. Was I too gay? Was I too Christian? It seemed that “gay Christian” was a category for unicorns. It’s rare and hard to find on a dating app.
My loneliness would turn into depression. Something very important within my soul was missing. Sure, Jesus is supposed to fill any void. Yet, I knew I needed a physically present man to appear — someone interested in me and my values.
I wanted Mr. Right.
On August 13, 2021, he arrived.
Reggie
Both of us knew it, sensed it, upon first meeting. Magic.
Was it his handsomeness? Yes, but there was more. Our conversation was effortless; we wanted it to continue. I sized up his values — and they were all so commendable. He laughed so easily, so infectious. We kissed good night — neither of us wanted to spoil the perfect evening by jumping into sex.
We had been dating for three months, meeting weekly. I always longed for Reggie when he was gone and excitedly awaited his return.
It was then that I knew the obvious: I wanted to spend my entire life married to him!
Both of us took our wedding vows very seriously. “Until only death do we part. In good times and in bad. Selflessly serving the other.”
Sublime Marriage with Reggie
Each day holds both an expected routine plus spontaneity. Weeks seem to fly by. Vacations, planned so long ago, suddenly arrive. Life races on.
Here are just a few of the gazillion examples of the simple delights of our marriage.
· We wake up together in bed, expecting the day to be wonderful.
· We express verbal affection a lot! “I love you.” “I’m so glad to be married to you.” “You are so handsome!” “You are the best husband in the world!”
· We regularly extend physical affection. We provide “gay hugs”: a head on the shoulder, a firm embrace that is in no hurry to let go, gently massaging the back. We also hold hands. And when sitting together, there is the intimate rubbing of a thigh.
· He sets the dining table without being asked. I say a prayer over the meal.
· We go out to eat. We sometimes share the taste of each other’s meal. Gone are the days of feeling isolated and alone at a restaurant as a single man.
· Eroticism occurs spontaneously, often, and with great satisfaction.
· We hold hands whenever we are together in public. Some people stare in disgust; some smile with approval.
· We enjoy watching a television series, cuddled with a warm plush blanket over our legs. Footsies. Holding hands beneath the covers and kissing for no reason at all.
· We go on exotic vacations. Reggie navigates while I drive. When flying, we hold hands on the airplane. We delight in being a couple.
· When he is feeling stressed, I massage his shoulders. He returns the favor.
· We often have music playing in the background at home. Not infrequently, we start dancing together: fast gyrations or slow, warm swaying to the rhythm.
· And each night, we pray on our knees — offering God our gratitude and concerns.
Finally, we spoon together in the bed — peacefully drifting into sleep.
Commitment
The commitment of any marriage can be either a ball-and-chain for those who fall out of love — or a reliable assurance to those who view marriage as permanent. To me, the commitment is a comforting promise. No infidelity. There is no splitting when a harsh argument occurs.
Yep, commitment can be the cement that perfects a young relationship into one that is solid gold.
Conclusion
I was previously married to my wife for 41 years until she died of cancer.
I lived for one year as a “widower.” I decided that my identity did not want to be tied to “the guy whose wife died.”
So, I became “single” and fully embraced my gay identity. Coming from an Evangelical background, I believed that being celibate was the only pure choice.
I was wrong.
When I first attempted to find Mr. Right through dating apps, I became discouraged and lost hope.
I was wrong. Mr. Right emerged in God’s perfect timing.
Reggie has filled that giant hole in my soul. I cherish him and my status as his husband. And my life has completely changed for the better.
Thank God for bringing us together.
Dr. Mike Rosebush (Ph.D., Counseling Psychology; he, him, his;) is the creator and editor of GAYoda, plus a writer for Backyard Church. A short synopsis of Dr. Rosebush’s life can be found at I Lived the Most Unusual Gay Christian Life Ever. He may be contacted at mikerosebush75@gmail.com.
