"And all the roads we have to walk along are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would
Like to say to you
I don't know how
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?
And after all
You're my wonderwall"
The loves I’ve known and the lovers I’ve had… have not been nearly as many as I would have liked.
On average, I sleep with two men per year. At first, this pattern was not intentional. It was just the norm while in college. Unlike some guys, I keep track. I care about how I feel about myself. Well, I once did. The two guys per year was cute when I was cute… younger and thinner and cuter. And while twenty-six is in no ways old in the real world where men sleep with women, it is definitely approaching middle age in the gay world where ex and coke keeps off the weight and cocktail after cocktail adds on the fun.
As gay men, the loud life of quite desperation (ah, Thoreau, old friend) is common. Often, we search and search. Our search for someone takes us from man to man, bed to bed, and orgasm to orgasm. We get to a point, where we realize as I have, that we are a mess and that maybe love is beyond us. That maybe we had our chance and it passed us by.
But then, out of nowhere, someone comes along. And everything changes.
I meet Parker at the Kroger on Moreland. He was cute and intelligent and nineteen. Surely nothing could come of that save for one great orgasm. Right? Right. Right?