living positive by paul montero
It’s an old story. Poz boy dates boy. Poz boy gets hurt and eats mass amounts
So,
of ice cream. Poz boy takes psychological measures so that he never gets hurt
again. When someone good comes along, we become callous to an end of always
What’S the CatCh?
having to ask, “When will the other shoe drop? What’s he got up his sleeve?” ...or
some other rhetorical question that involves articles of clothing for some strange
reason. When it comes to gauging relationships based on trust and (ideally) love,
why have we convinced ourselves that guys are destined to hurt us?
I recently went on a successful string of dates with a seemingly perfect guy.
Jamie was great to talk to, exceptionally easy on the eyes, his act was remarkably
“together,” but most importantly, he was completely accepting and sympathetic
of my poz status. Yes, Jamie was in fact a unicorn.
Seriously, everything about him was disarming—even our miniature golf date.
Still, I couldn’t allow myself the satisfaction of enjoying it. I’d had plenty of dates
that showed just as much long-term potential as this one—and they all ended
up every bit as disappointing as the trainwrecks that i knew would fail from the
start. I know, I’m a silly boy. But it’s a hard habit to break when every other guy
I’ve welcomed into my “crush” zone has given me good reason to weld the door
shut. They either bulldoze through the landscape, leaving only landmines of bad
memories, or they go AWOL after they get what they want.
Playing it cool with Jamie did have its advandages, though. In lieu of trading
shy, boyish glances between clumsily overshot putts and eye-batting contests,
we actually got to know each other better. It has often been said—but rarely put
into practice—that the secret to romantic longevity is the pattern of friends-first
and lovers-second. While my initial reaction to this is to roll my eyes and put out
on the first date without a second thought, the possibility remains unexplored.
Does this “friend” thing work?
Clearly, mutual self-control plays a large part if two hot-blooded individuals
ever hope to get their chastity on. But realistically, the world of gay dating in Cali-
fornia just doesn’t lend itself well to the concept of “best buds now, butt buddies
later” ...or “delayed affection,” as it is sometimes called. But I guess it does minimize
the likelihood of being dropped like a cell phone call on T-Mobile.
I did want a relationship with him and I wanted it to last—but my emotional
armor was still bolted on tightly. I was convinced there was something amiss
about this ideal specimen. Especially since the holidays were in full swing.
Like St. Valentine’s Day, the winter season is a tricky time during which to date.
It’s very hard to tell whether a guy is pursuing you because he likes you, or because
he hates being alone this time of year. No big deal? Think again. Being a “seasonal
boyfriend” is much like being a rebound. Your warm body and attention are a
godsend to him for a week or two. But once your personality, quirks and similar
dating liabilities start to surface, he may realize he wants no part of you! Call it
hyperanalytical; I call it foresight. Of course, such foresight can be self-deafeating
when it’s mixed with a splash of jadedness. Whatever the case was, I HAD to get to
the bottom of it before I got too deeply invested—and subsequently hurt.
In my blind quest to probe and dig for something incriminating of his, I was
completely oblivious to the fact that it was I who was ruining my chances. I had
become the dating liability. My paranoid assumptions alienated him. He found my
“I scared away a perfectly decent man
incessant search for answers “a little extra creepy.” And he was completely right. I
scared away a perfectly decent man all because I refused to do away with my jag-
all because I refused to do away with my
ged armor. Maybe I took the lyrics to Jordin Sparks’ “Battlefield” too literally.
If you ever find yourself on a date with a refreshingly great guy and you ask
jagged armor. Maybe I took the lyrics to
yourself, “What’s the catch?” The answer is, “You have to let go of your baggage.”
If he seems too good to be true, chances are...you need to let him show you HIM-
Jordin Sparks’ “battlefield” too literally.”
SELF. Leaving ourselves open isn’t insctinctual, but it’s worth a try. I’d give my right
loafer for another chance with Jamie, but I dug my own grave in this instance.
Besides, I’ve had my turn. Now it’s yours. feedback?
livingpositive@ragemonthly.com or
blogatragemonthly.com
26 RAGE monthly | December 2009
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