I’m sitting in our great room last week, looking our at the 60 acre nature preserve that surrounds my house. Christmas music playing, nice glass of red wine in hand, my wife has prepared an exquisite white bean chili with smoked chipotle peppers. This is my life, sounds pretty good doesn’t it, but I think it’s apparent I need to rethink it a little bit. What’s my problem? First of all I’m gay. Which means life is hard.
My wife’s new strategy, acceptance. She’s a school teacher and one of her friend teacher’s is gay and he’s on match.com. So the other night, she wanted to go find his profile. Together we sat down at the computer and hunted a bit on match.com (gays and girls). We find him, dorky picture and all. Her colleagues discussing the horror’s dating later in life, a lot of work, little success. My wife enjoys making the point that none of her colleagues go out with younger people, too emotionally immature (hey – I’m sticking with my basic food groups). She’s proud that she knows my “type” of guy, asian, brown, exotic. It hurts her to think about it.
It’s then on to craigslist.org. Women seeking men, about 30 postings, men seeking women, ~ 150 postings (5 from Peter), men seeking men, oh about 450 postings. I start opening the more interesting posts. The cleaner ones with body shots, then a slew of closeup hardons and then finally the occasional action shot. We start chuckling, I, of course, have a running comic monologue going. So I’m supposed to find you interesting because you have a nice looking (I struggle with adjectives here) dick? It reminds me of the Seinfeld scene about why men beep their car horns to attract women, because, as Jerry explains, men have run out of all other options on how to attract women. I suppose this may hold true for gay guys. Look at my dick, whatca think? Not much actually, but thanks for playing. It’s sad and funny when you think about it.
So you see my problem. I’m having a blast at home. There’s no fighting. No screaming and yelling. Don’t people who get divorced fight? I mean my parents fought like cats n’ dogs. Hell, my brother and I were relieved when they got divorced. But none of that is happening at my house, the red wine could have been a tad cooler, but I’m not complaining.
Anger makes things easier. You act impulsively. You just do it. Had my wife exploded, tossed me out of the house, clothes on the front lawn, lawyer ringing my mobile phone, life would have been much easier and this blog probably 150 postings lighter.
But this marriage has a fault line, supporting the weight for now, but could crack wide open at any moment and explode. I want my wife to be a part of my life. I’m not sure what role yet. But I’ve decided by January 13th (the first year anniversary of me starting therapy), I’m making a decision. One year is long enough to make any decision. It’s time. Stay with me friends, I’m gonna need you.