The Worst Gay Man Ever
This one goest out to Ray Delizo. He is only partially responsible for the topic. Mainly, he inspired me with being open on Medium and talking about things that I had long locked away as off limits. Based on how this goes, I may shove these words back into their lockbox in my entrails.
I loveneedadore cock. I have nothing against other body parts, but a penis is beautiful in a forceful and arousing way. I can’t get enough!
But here’s the problem. I can’t speak with a lisp. My house would make the dirtiest college bachelor cringe and run away in fear, but not before tripping over something half-dead in the piles of dirty laundry and plates.
My wardrobe is so sad that my straight friends take me shopping.
I feel like the most ridiculous gay man in existence.
When I tell my gay friends that I have been in a monogamous relationship for over 15 years, they are beyond stunned. But, here’s the thing. They don’t use the M word like I do. For them, monogamy somehow allows for sex with strangers in a spa and on-demand Grindr fucks.
I’m clearly missing some key cultural reference or DNA strand. I cherish what my partner and I have, and yet a part of me is fascinated by the hedonistic lifestyle of the “proper gays.”
Before everyone leaps, I know there is no such thing as proper.
But I have also spent years hiding behind my “straightness”, using it as a shield to only partially come out of the closet. And so I have to wonder if my aversion to gym memberships, partying, people, drugs and anonymous sex is somehow tied to my desire to protect my not-so-secret, straight identity.
Fine. I don’t want the risks or pain and hollowness that comes from anonymous sex. But what about gossiping girlfriends, mimosas and Sunday brunch? Why can’t I have that?
Oh right. I’d rather shoot myself than engage in mundane banter about who is sleeping with whom, the latest celebrity sighting or boyfriend breakup story.
So I will just have to “gay up”, drink my mimosa and dream of penises in an apartment strewn with half-filled boxes, dirty laundry and fuzzy coffee mugs.
