“I want you. Now.”
Well, who doesn’t want to hear that? So, despite the alarm going off, a curious kitty, and a pillow gone askew, I found myself right where I belonged – under 280 pounds of muscular manly man who required my presence and devotion.
At a rather critical moment, he stopped his attentions. In a Brooklyn-y growl, I was informed: “Ya bettah know that you’re the best thing that evah happened right heah.”
I couldn’t help it. This is so not like me, but I busted out crying (f’n Valentine’s Day and hormones) and buried my face in his big be-tatted shoulder. He grabbed my chin, kissed me, and recommenced driving me insane.
Without being more graphic I will tell you that I was his and he was mine.
So what’s that all about?
Well, I think it’s a bit different with two guys as opposed to a hetero couple or two lesbians. The underlying motivation – sharing physical pleasure with your beloved, and being as close to them as possible – is the same no matter what plumbing one has. But with two men there is more freight. I think, for a man, opening yourself up to a woman has a bit less risk. She doesn’t inherently understand what being a man entails. What she knows and feels is that the person with her is giving 100% – but 100% of what? Some women can understand the concept of manhood – the expectations of responsibility, the stifling of emotion. I must point out that many women are emotionally stronger than men because they have to be. But being a man is not a thing which is easily explained to someone who isn’t.
Two men in love are often opposite sides of a coin. Where there’s overlap – ego, stubbornness, appreciation of art, beauty and life – they simply nod and accept it. Where there’s conflict – largely due to jockeying for position in the relationship – it can either make or break a couple. When two dudes fight over a lamp, the lamp is very often not the issue. It’s a struggle for who’s going to run the show. Smart gay men – like smart straight men – figure out pretty fast that the person who appears to run the show often doesn’t.
I keep our home clean, and I make sure that Cap’n has tasty noms, clean clothes, and gets to the doctor and dentist when he needs to. I also manage our finances. That could be subservient, but it’s not. I have not had to worry about car maintenance for 7 years, and any chore I wish to defer will be done by him. I write notes and leave flowers, he sneaks up behind me and gives me stealth hugs, often with fantastically dirty commentary. I have not had to drive to a family event since 2003. He shines all our boots and shoes, I plan our vacations. We plant flowers on our terrace together. It works. I am one of the luckiest Gays that ever Gayed.
When I am very old, I will look across a well-worn Ethan Allen dining table at the Cap’n, and while his jaw will be a bit less square and his skin a tad more papery, I will find myself in those caramel-colored eyes and want to rub those big arthritic shoulders.
There is no Hallmark card for this. But that’s all right.
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