MonDATE: Bisexuals and the Right to Privacy, Part Two

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Him: You’re being extremely unfair!

Me: I’m sorry about that. Did you see August Osage County? What did you think?

Him: Seriously, are you Bisexual?

Me: I keep thinking if I hadn’t seen the Broadway play, I might have really liked the movie. I liked it quite a bit, actually, but I might have been blown away if I hadn’t watched the Broadway show twice.

Him: Don’t change the subject! Stop it.

Me: Julia Roberts really blew the doors off the hinges. It’s worth seeing just for that.

Him: I didn’t see it yet, okay?

Me: Okay. No spoilers, then.

Him: I’m asking you a question, and you’re avoiding it.

Me: I don’t see why I owe you the information. It’s just information, after all.

Him: I read your site for years. I’m extremely curious. What happened? It seems like you’ve made a 180, and I don’t know what to make of all of it. It seems…

Me: Don’t trail off. How does it seem?

Him: Hypocritical. It seems hypocritical. Sorry.

(There is a long pause. I sit on a bench at the bus stop.)

Him: You waiting for a bus now?

Me: Only if it’s an express bus to Canada.

Him: What does that mean?

Me: I dunno. It’s about half a joke. I’ll let you know when/if there’s a punch line.

Him: Hey. I’m sorry I called you a hypocrite – just how I see it.

Me: Ha. Then you’re not really sorry! You’re frustrated about quite a few things, and I’d suspect the root of it has very, very little to do with me.

Him: You can’t just… You can’t write about the gay community for years, and talk openly about being a poly-amorous homosexual – you can’t run some sort of online ‘brotherhood of man’ pie cult for the gays, and then just get married to a woman. Just, poof, you’re married and normal again. Just like that.

Me: Can’t I? Why can’t I? Why can’t I marry whomever I want? Isn’t that the underlined point behind the Marriage Equality movement?

Him: Don’t you feel you owe people like me an explanation?

Me: Why?

Him: Because I am one of your readers. Because I’m your audience.

(There is a long pause.)

Me: Well… thank you. I’m flattered you’re reading, that you’re still reading, and that you took the time to contact me. All of these things are incredibly flattering, and part of me agrees with you. A huge part of me thinks I owe it to you to tell you exactly how my sex life is structured, what it means to be LGBTQ in a traditional marriage structure, and send you home with a slice of pie and a warm feeling of hope for tomorrow.

Him: That’s what I’d like, yes.

Me: Then again, I’ve read quite a few books on writing, and while authors agree it is important to have an audience, they seem to also agree that catering things to your audience leads to atrophy in a major way. Bill Cosby said something like, I don’t know what the formula for success is, but I know the formula for failure is trying to please everyone.

Him: Teach me, oh wise one.

Me: I’m not getting paid to teach you, or, for that matter, to tell you how to live your life, or to tell you how I live mine.

Him: Okay, I’ll admit – it’s none of my business.

Me: Thank you.

Him: But I’m CURIOUS.

Me: Yes. You’re curious. That’s exactly right. You expect me to tell you intimate details of my personal life to you, the way I would to my therapist, because you read my site for a while and you feel somehow entitled to missing information. But you’re just an audience member. You’re just tuning in. You don’t know me and you have no real right to my inner physical, emotional, or intellectual life, beyond what I publish on my site, which by the way you read for free – so I owe you even less.

Him: People are going to want to know! You wrote about your sex life for years!

Me: No. Incorrect. I did not.

Him: Yes you DID. You’re being a hypocrite!

Me: Actually, I wrote about awkward dates, urban alienation, and my disappointment in a community full of brilliant, motivated, socially broken people. I almost never mentioned who I was having sex with.

Him: Come off it. You were sleeping with all those boys who made pie with you.

Me: Incorrect. Those were models, or friends, or people who contacted me online who wanted to help. It was very rare I slept with the people on my site.

Him: What?

Me: The “Awkward Dates” happen with people I don’t sleep with. That is the whole point: Here’s how NOT to sleep with me. The irony is, it’s pretty easy to sleep with me, if you’re cute and sweet, but most gay people have no interest in being kind, gentle, or generous of spirit – at least the ones who live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn don’t. They think they don’t have to, and in some sense, they’re correct. Someone will stomach their painfully underdeveloped, spoiled, sour personalities. But that someone isn’t me…

Him: Still seems hypocritical to me.

Me: You’ve now called me a hypocrite three times.

Him: So?

Me: So take a deep breath.

Him: Why?

Me: I’m about to tell you what I think about you.

(Pause. He looks concerned. I take a deep breath and count to ten.)

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

MonDATE: Bisexuals, and the Right to Privacy – Part One

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Him: Hello, are you Michael?

Me: Yes. You’re Sam?

Him: Yes. Hi. Nice to meet you.

Me: You too, Sam, I like your shirt.

Him: It’s Hollister.

Me: I like it anyway. Wanna take a walk?

Him: A walk? That sounds so weird and creepy, in the middle of the night.

Me: Is it? I just don’t really want to go drink right now. I’m trying to shed the winter layer.

Him: But isn’t a bar… Safer, somehow?

Me: We can stick to Colorado – it’s well lit. I’ll try to resist the urge to take you to a park and chop you into small pieces.

Him: That’s what I meant when I said weird and creepy!

Me: Let’s operate off the assumption neither of us is a murderous sociopath?

Him: You don’t seem like a sociopath to me.

Me: Thanks, man! I like your attitude!

(We walk for a while, chatting. I find out things about him. He’s in medical school. He’s into extreme sports, hiking, and surfing. He seems nice enough, and he’s no dummy. He’s read most of Kurt Vonnegut, so he gets points.)

Him: So, I guess you’re wondering why I’ve contacted you?

Me: I guess I am, now that you mention.

Him: I wanted to ask you a question. Do you mind if I ask a personal question?

Me: No, I guess not, as long as you don’t mind not getting a full answer, depending on the question.

Him: Haha, fair. Fair enough.

Me: What’s the question?

Him: Well, I have a few questions. Firstly, are you bi-sexual? I read your site for a long time and I always assumed you were gay, but now you’re married to a woman, and what’s the deal? Is she a lesbian? Does she need a green card, or whatever?

Me: Oh wow. I thought personal question meant something like ‘boxers or briefs?’

Him: No. You clearly wear briefs. I’ve seen your Instagram.

Me: Fair enough.

Him: Are you bisexual?

Me: Let me ask you a question. I’ll answer yours, but let me do the rudest thing and follow up a question with another question. Does it matter?

Him: What?

Me: Does it matter? The difference between me being Gay or Bi? Or even straight?

Him: What do you mean? Of course it matters. Of course .

Me: How so?

(There is a pause. He looks confused.)

Him: Do you realize, I’ve read you for years?

Me: No, I usually go into these meetings pretty blind. When I meet with people it’s much more likely they’ve lurked or stalked me, whereas I might only have a brief email and a fuzzy photo to go on.

Him: But how can you do this? You talked about Gay dating, alienation and minority rights for years. How do you just get to marry a woman and continue on like nothing happened?

Me: Because nothing happened. I got married. It was pretty important to me, in the scope of my life, but in the grand scheme of human events, it’s not even a blip on the radar. It’s just a marriage. Most people do it at least once.

Him: But why a woman? Are you Bisexual?

Me: Again, I don’t see how that matters. It’s clear that I’m definitely a member of the LGBTQ community. Right? And, consider this: you haven’t told me your sexuality, yet you seem to think it’s fine to pry about mine and my wife’s?

Him: I’m Bi.

Me: Okay, good. I’m Queer.

Him: What does that mean? In what sense?

Me: It means I am as Gay as Kurt Cobain.

Him: What about your wife?

Me: She’s whatever she is.

Him: Stop. This is frustrating.

Me: This is nobody’s business. One of the perks of marriage is people stop prying about who does what, when, with whom, and how.

Him: But I’m curious!

Me: Well, that’s flattering. Are you openly Bi?

Him: What?

Me: Do people know you’re Bisexual?

Him: Some people do.

Me: Your family?

Him: No. My brother knows, I think, but by and large, no.

Me: Your work friends?

Him: No. I don’t want them thinking I’m weird, or off.

Me: Your friends from school?

Him: No.

Me: So, pretty much, just the people you have sex with.

Him: You make it sound sad.

Me: No, you make it sound sad. You’re the one who made those choices.

Him: It’s just what happened. I’m a victim of circumstance.

Me: You’re what? 28? 27?

Him: I’m 30 this year.

Me: Okay, well, welcome to the club. I’m going to say something, and I hope you don’t get offended.

Him: Are you going to call me a Jerk?

Me: I don’t do that anymore, Jerk. Just kidding. No, just this: There’s no such thing as a victim of circumstance. Not really. I believe life is a series of choices. It’s in the art of choosing we discover what kind of man or woman we become. If you don’t like your circumstances you have a right to make a different choice. It might be more difficult to make a courageous choice. It might, in fact, be stupid to make a courageous choice. It might make your life more of a struggle to make an honest choice, or to have enough integrity to look your family in the eye and say, here’s what I am – here’s how I was born and here’s the way things are for me. I’m sorry you feel differently about how I should live my life, but then again, my life is the only thing that is arguably entirely mine – and I’m the one who has to live it.

Him: What’s that have to do with the way the world is?

Me: To say you’re a victim of circumstance is a bit misleading when you’re the one creating your own reality.

Him: That’s arrogant. That’s incredibly arrogant, and I knew you’d say something like that. I knew you’d come up with a way to make me being down low about my sexuality my fault. My sexuality doesn’t define who I am anymore than my liking baseball defines who I am. Why do I have to make a huge issue of who I’m sleeping with? Doesn’t my mother deserve a good birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving without me ruining everything by talking about sex with dudes? Why are people so obsessed with where I’m putting my penis? It’s nobody’s business.

Me: And yet, you’re so very obsessed with where I’m putting mine.

(There is a long pause. He starts to speak, then stops, then looks confused.)

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

Letters

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We are commenting on this blog post: https://piefolk.net/2012/01/12/rice-queen/

This blog post gives an introduction to the “rice queen” term and identity, which is used predominantly to describe white gay men who are primarily attracted to Asian men. The blog post outlines a conversation that Michael Martin has with an older fellow, and illuminates the problematic that exists in the fetishization that is inherent with the “rice queen” moniker. The fellow that Michael converses with frequently reduces entire national and racialized identities into a few characteristics, and denies the complexities that these folks have as human beings. Additionally, Michael Martin comments on the imperial aspects of what many “rice queens” do: travel to Asia in search of cheap sex workers.

In this blog post, Michael does nothing to combat the overt racism that his conversation partner is spewing, but rather voices his discomfort with the rampant racism being perpetuated in the conversation. Though the blog post breaches the “rice queen” topic and label, Michael does not begin to implicate his admitted dominant attraction to Asian men in this system. He seeks not to deconstruct his own location in a racial hierarchy and the imbalance of power in his own relationships with Asian men, but merely frames the fellow whom he is having the conversation with as the evil person, and upholds himself as the one that recognizes and stands against racism.

This blog post speaks to the fetishization of coloured and racialized bodies, which, while deemed disgusting, undesirable and ugly by dominant white society, is also positioned as being for the purpose of white sexual consumption when it is so desired. 

Anonymous 

Hi. Thanks for writing. “We” who? Are you the Borg or something? Also, why would you refer to me in the third person? Creepy. Okay:

I don’t think it’s my job to combat racism in America, but I do write about things that happen to me. Conversations I have, etc.

I’m not responsible for racism in the gay community, or in the world at large. I have a blog that is well attended, and I do my best to remind gay people to play nice with each other. Ultimately, however, the blog is just my outlet to process my own feelings of alienation. I’m a member of an oppressed minority who has not yet garnered its civil rights. Let me say that again. Gay people have not yet garnered legal equality in the United States. That makes us (and trans, or gender queer people) the bottom rung of the civil rights ladder. If I feel like processing an awkward, but polite conversation I had with an older person from a more racist generation – that’s what I’ll do. And I’ll do it online to call attention to the issue.

I am not ‘required’ to start a shouting match with an old gay man who just wants to cuddle with someone on a Friday night. I have respect for people, even racist people. If anything, I’m interested in hearing his perspective, because it’s so foreign to me. It makes me feel good that society might be slightly different now than when he was my age.

I’m not interested in ‘getting my head in the right place,’ if that means people from one oppressed minority are attacking people from another oppressed minority. I don’t quite think I deserve a kick in the nuts for talking about racial politics on my blog. I think calling attention to the issue is valuable for its own sake, and I won’t change my format or apologize.

People seem to be uncomfortable that I’m eroticizing Asian men on my blog. Too bad. It’s about time we as a society started looking at Asian men as sex symbols. There are very few Asian male sex symbols in the media today, though things are slowly changing. I don’t think I’m helping make great strides in racial politics, but then again I’m just a comic. I say what’s on my mind and some people listen. I’m grateful, and on a good day, humble.

I do think it would be useful if you folks went after straight white people, instead of a working class gay guy, but that’s your prerogative. Enjoy complaining to your friends about my blog, and as always, thanks for reading!

Michael

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Letters

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Dear Piefolk,

 

Lately I have really come to terms with who I am as a person. I’m often wondering about my personal life. I have been single for 8 years, which is a blessing because it has allowed me to enjoy the finer things in life. But at the same time, I often wonder why do a lot of gay males put such an heavy emphasis on having an relationship? Why do they insist on having a companion at such an young age when that phase is meant to experience a lot of things. I just don’t understand how it can be so complicated but yet so simple. I don’t want a relationship but I do want companionship.

            I’m an African American male who happens to be attracted to Caucasians males but I often find most of them sexualize the African American community, how can I approach a guy without them sexualizing me or the parts that I have? I’m an old soul, and I do believe in the whole courting process hence dinner, flowers, movies and the whole nine yard but most of them don’t want to engage in that, they want to get down to the nitty and gritty part of the bedroom which is okay – but I do want to be able to enjoy their company.. How can I do that without giving the aura of wanting a relationship when I just want to be able to enjoy their company on a simplistic level.

 

Thanks,

Confused African American

 

Dear CAA,

Thanks for writing. This is a very complicated issue. Most gay men are emotionally stunted, buddy. They don’t get to express their sexuality, usually, until college age, and even then the rest of society asks gay men to submerge themselves into a hetero-normative paradigm. Boys aren’t allowed to walk down the street holding hands. People say you can in New York, but I’d like to see you try it in The Bronx, or Bushwick after dark.

Most straight people have been conditioned from a very early age to fear and mistrust homosexuals. Yes, things are changing, but as you well know from being African American – change is hard earned and you have to quietly insist on your dignity your entire life. Or fight for it, in certain circumstances.

The side effect, I think, is a certain feeling you get when you’re a gay man. The world hates you and wishes you would go away, so how do you even have a relationship? Then again, we are all raised to idolize the traditional heterosexual family structure and we want it all. House, kids, picket fence, houseboy(s).  However, most of us have been pressured by our families to change who we are fundamentally, or at least be sensible enough to constantly hide our sexuality –  when the rest of the world gets to broadcast their love all over the place. We have to walk around feeling like we don’t deserve the simple things straight people take for granted.

Maybe it’s just a man thing. I’ve heard women complain that all men are desperately lonely, and terrified of commitment. Well, gay men certainly are, and so we usually go for sex instead of a date. Call it modern, convenient, fun, decadent – it’s been my experience that most guys want to have sex, and not stick around to play video games.

Which is weird, because getting a beej while you play video games is probably the best thing going.

You might be casting mixed signals, being a good date but not being a relationship type. You might experiment with the idea of hanging out with a good friend, non-sexually, and hooking up with a handsome stranger from the internet later that evening. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s also nothing wrong with going on a date when you’re pretty sure you don’t want a relationship. Dating is fun, and leads to STDs. Why wouldn’t you?

I will, however, balk at the idea that you just ‘happen’ to be attracted to Caucasians, while they all want you for your big black parts. You asked how to get people to stop sexualizing you? You can’t. Just enjoy it. People like what they like. It’s just as racist for you to only sleep with white boys, as it is for them to only want a black lovers – which is to say – not at all racist. People have preferences, and it’s not just racial. Sometimes it’s cultural, or class based, or sometimes you want mint tea and there’s none left and you drink chamomile. Delicious yellow chamomile.

However, if you do go on a date and the dude won’t stop mentioning your race in an unfunny, annoying way? Don’t reward him by having sex with him. Don’t do it. You’re not doing well for yourself or the world by rewarding the type of behavior you disdain. It sounds like you’re an old-fashioned guy who likes to take things slow. It sounds like you have a healthy sex drive. You’re part of two oppressed minority groups. I’d say, take the best of life and leave the rest. Focusing on the negative makes a negative life, and you’ve probably had a long haul to get where you are. Let yourself enjoy.

I guess I mean this: Bring flowers, go to dinner, hold hands – and go out there and get some pretty white tail. You earned it.

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10 Best Gay Dating Bloggers

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Datingadvice.com has been kind enough to name me one of the 10 Best Gay Dating Bloggers! 

This is an honor. Thanks guys. You’re the best.

March 2, 2011 Piefolklex millena

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Kevin Allison, Dale Cooper, Adam Gardiner – Episode 1

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Me: What’s being a porn actor like? What about your fans?

Dale: Well, actually most of what I do now is basically research and reading. I have a wish list that my fans can sort of provide my reading material for me. The wish list is very common for adult films, for fans to get things for the actors. I only have books on there. It keeps me very busy reading and writing notes.

Kevin: Wow! Where are these ‘wish lists?’

Dale: It’s on Amazon. I actually feel kinda bad – there’s a really awesome communist bookstore in Baltimore called Red Emma’s. (Shout out!) I was hoping to get them to be the purveyors of the books, but them being a small business…  they can’t. You can’t argue with the convenience of Amazon.

Me: If you get any bigger will you put cars on your list?

Dale: I made a decision to just have it be books.

Me: Yeah, but those things grow and change and evolve as you grow as an artist!

(laughter)

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Dale: Well if anyone out there has a couple thousand dollars lying around they don’t need!

Me: There you go! NOW you’re being a capitalist! So, Kevin – you’ve been able to sort of ask the universe for something and get it on your podcast, right?

Kevin: Yes indeed. RISK – the whole idea is that people come on and tell stories that they can’t tell anywhere else. You couldn’t tell them on NPR or you’re not even supposed to share in mixed company – some of the stories are really emotional, some are X-rated and some are just… ridiculous!

Me: Ha!

Kevin: I have told a few stories about my recent explorations into kink and there was an episode several months back where I said, oh, let me just put this out there: I would really love a naked Asian housecleaning boy.

(sheepish laughter)

Me: AND YOU GOT ONE!

(more laughter)

Kevin: And I got one. Now you have to understand there’s a context here. BDSM service kink is common. There are a lot of people who are into cleaning your house and getting a sexual charge out of it. The Asian part – that was just part of my own personal, you know…  I’m attracted to Asian guys.

Me: You and I share an appreciation for Asian faces and bodies.

Kevin: Well I felt bad, because it sounded like I was saying… you know, ‘I want an Asian to come clean my house.’

Me: Did it? Because, if you were into gingers and said that no one would blink, right?

Kevin: Right. Right, right. What I meant was I would like someone who was into this sort of thing to contact me. A kid from Malaysia did! He was 23 years old… was going to be a student at Parsons. He was like, I’m moving to the States, I’m super into this, I saw you also on the BDSM sites. Let’s start having Skype sessions and talk about how we can make this happen! And… he did move in with me about a month later, and you know what? I was too… damn… nice.

Me: Oh!!!

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Kevin: Once he moved in with me, I was like – here is a 23 year-old student who is new to the United States and I just started encouraging him. I was like, you know, I’m poly – you should probably give dating guys your own age a shot. I just kept encouraging him to do nice things and I think I dropped out of the zone of being mean and domineering.

Dale: You weren’t fulfilling the sexual needs of your Malaysian slave boy.

Me: “I didn’t come all the way from Malaysia to get a mommy, now let’s make with the butt smacks!!!”

(laughter)

Kevin: Well that’s the thing. When it comes to kink, I’m very good at improvising. I’m good at going into the scene. We were enjoying sex together, but otherwise I wasn’t a 24/7  hard ass asshole to him and I think he grew bored with me.

Me: Can I ask a question?

Kevin: Yes.

Me: How clean was the apartment?

(laughter)

Kevin: That’s the other thing; it was purely practical. I’m terrible at keeping the apartment clean!

Dale: And he was very good at it.

Kevin: Yeah, and I know a lot of ProDoms who are women, who – there are straight guys lining up out the door to clean their apartment – who pay them! Who pay the women! So I’m like, why should I be paying a Latina woman down the street, when I can find a dude who gets off on it?

Me: Right. To qualify, you live in a [predominately] Latina neighborhood?

(laughter)

Me: I wanted to qualify that Kevin doesn’t think….

Kevin: I actually do have a Latina woman who cleans the apartment now.

(pause)

Kevin: And there’s no sex involved.

(laughter)

Me: At least, not yet.

(laughter)

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Advice

Martin 1 Amber

Hi,

 

My bisexual friend, ‘Jake the Jerk’ spent some time in rehab recently. Before he left, we had been spending a lot of time together smoking in parks, eating french fries, and watching how dilated each other’s pupils could get. I don’t have many gay friends and it became apparent to both of us that I liked him. I set a (friend) date with him to go see a movie after he came home, mostly so I could gather my balls and the courage to ask him out officially but it didn’t happen. Our cigarettes were lit as I stared into his big beautiful brown eyes, I hugged him, and I ran into my car as fast as I could without making myself vulnerable in the slightest. (I’m an idiot, I know.) Later that day he did some Grindr work and found himself a man twice his age (he is 21, and I am 20) whose cock he has been sitting on since. Let’s call that man Sketchy.

Its not that I have anything against cross generational relationships, its just that these two have nothing in common. He’s gone from being my only queer friend, to practically being a figment of my imagination since I hardly see him anymore. I miss our close friendship. My best friend and I had dinner with Jake and Sketchy the other night and it nearly broke my heart in two. Jake had a shiny new bruise below his left eye and whispered something to me about “being punished” before Sketchy could catch up to being within earshot. He seemed drunk, discontent, and distant. Sketchy insulted my best friend several times at dinner and might have lied about some of his credentials (I did some internet work myself).

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I can’t break Jake out of this relationship, I understand that that isn’t my place, but as his friend how do I learn to tolerate this new phase of our relationship? Furthermore, how am I supposed to engage with Sketchy when all I want to do is to punch him in the face repeatedly. Clearly, my conflicted feelings for Jake and my single sad boy lifestyle is making accepting this much more difficult than it need be.

 

HELP ME,

– Bitter Barry

PumpkinPieFolk (35)

Barry,

Bitterness leads to stank face, and stank face leads to going home from the all ages club alone. You shouldn’t be bitter. It sounds like your friend is going through a difficult time right now, and doesn’t want you to be part of that. Sure, you’re making him sound like an abuse victim, and I have had my experiences with trying to help abuse victims, but we don’t KNOW that for sure.

Maybe he’s in a very healthy S&M relationship? Maybe it’s co-incidence? We don’t know. You’re right not to judge cross-generational relationships, too.

The point is, we don’t know what his deal is – only that he’s with a man that sets your Spidey sense tingling. Maybe you’re right about Sketchy, maybe not, but let’s mind our own relationship for a second and focus on your friendship. We can’t make someone spend time with us if they don’t want to. We can make efforts to reach out, but if we do that a few times and our efforts are ignored, c’est la vie. He seems bent on self destruction, in any case. Perhaps it’s for the best that he’s not your stoner buddy any longer.

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Let’s focus on you. You said you don’t have a lot of queer friends. I want you to take 2013 and change that. Queer people need each other so we can work together to normalize our behavior, so we can get back to what we do best, which is make pals at the all ages club, or in my case doing dumb dumb comedy shows.

I love you.

Michael

Martin 3 Amber

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The Ficus is Dead – Part Three

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Me: Yeah. And the definition of a nice Thanksgiving is one where I don’t show up and ruin things. So yeah, I didn’t speak to you after that, because you proved to me that you don’t care about me anymore. I decided right then that I wasn’t going to reach out to you again, until you reached out first. Ha. I guess you called my bluff! Cause a year has gone by and you didn’t even know I was hurting over it. But it doesn’t matter anymore because the ficus is dead. It’s dead and it’s not ever, ever coming back and you don’t get to know about that!

(pause)

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Me: You run away from everything.

Him: You. Left. Me.

Me: You left me a long time before that for your drunk ass writer friends.

Him: You wanted me to be a writer!

Me: NOW YOU ARE ONE. Are you happy?

Him: Yes, Michael. I am. I’m very happy, actually.  I love my house, and I love my car and I love my boyfriend. And you’re passive aggressive, but I love you too. I just can’t be around you all the time anymore, or maybe even at all. AND I DON’T OWE IT TO YOU TO EXPLAIN WHY.

Me: That’s fine! But I don’t owe it to you to tell you when the ficus dies.

Him: That was a metaphor for us!

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Me: It still IS. Our relationship, and I mean our friendship – died. It died in the past year as you turned your back on me and slowly cut me out of our circle of friends. Have you ever seen August Osage County?

Him: No. Why?

Me: Tracy Letts writes a line for one of the characters, about how people are always complaining that America is dying, but the truth of the matter is that America died a long time ago, while Americans were focused on other things. Curling irons. New Cars. Televisions. I’m paraphrasing.

Him: So?

Me: So that’s us. We’re the ficus. It’s dead, and you didn’t even know it was dying. And because of that you don’t get to deserve to know.

Him: Do you see how passive aggressive you are?

Me: You don’t know the half of it. Talk about passive aggressive – you’re imaginary!

Him: What?

Me: I’m making you up. I’m not really saying this to you. This is just what I wish I could say to you. You’re a fantasy Carson.

Him: GOD YOU’RE SO…

Me: Passive aggressive? Maybe you’re right, but at least I’m real, and you’re not, so haha. Anyway, you got all our friends in the breakup so you can console yourself with that.

Him: Hm. Well. In that case…

Me: Yes?

Him: Since I’m a fantasy Carson, I can’t get a hangover. Should we have another beer. Talk this out some more?

Me: I go in circles with this, but I always wind up forgiving you.

Him: Aw you’re sweet. Do you forgive yourself?

Me: I’m starting to. It’s hard. That’s the hardest thing.

Him: Oh, shit, sweetie – I just realized.

IMG_3906

Me: What?

Him: Jason’s coming back with cigarettes.

Me: No he isn’t. This is my fantasy and he doesn’t exist.

Him: Oh no! I love him though. Plus I really wanted a cigarette.

Me: You mean like the cigarette you have in your hand right now?

Him: Oh wow. You can do that?

Me: It’s my fantasy.

Him: That’s neat. But why not just make a version of me that doesn’t crave cigarettes?

Me: Because I like your flaws sometimes.

Him: Why?

(long pause)

Me: Because I love you. What are you drinking?

Him: Stella.

IMG_3907

Me: I’ll go to the bar and get two Stellas then.

Him: I’ll be here when you get back.

Me: No, you won’t.

Him: What? Why?

Me: Because it’s my fantasy. And because the ficus is dead.

-1

Advice

photos: kristen yoonsoo kim

Michael,

I am a 23 year old virgin… and I am madly in love with a 20 year old young man, who some have labelled as a prostitute. He is probably my best friend, and gives me everything I could want out of a relationship just being my friend. However he has never displayed any interest in me even though early in our friendship I expressed my feelings for him. I have a connection with him that I have never felt before with someone and I want him around for the rest of my life. I have known him for nearly a year now and I feel that telling him I was a virgin before I knew I liked him ruined my chances of him ever being attracted to me. I do everything for him and would do anything he asked because that is just the person I am, however I see him sell his body to men old enough to be his father and then fall in love with them. I have stood by him many times while this has happened and my heart has broken every time. Occasionally I am able to get rid of my feelings I have for him and respect our friendship, but then he will do something nice for me like wash a sweater I left at his house or cook for me and all my feelings come rushing back. He keeps a photo of one of the men who flew him out to Denmark to sleep with him next to his bed. Every time I see that picture, I fall apart.

I do everything for him, because as a person that is just the way I am with all my friends. I don’t have many so this is not a problem. I have bought most of his clothes, I buy his groceries, I cut his mother’s lawn, I drive him everywhere, I pay all expenses when we are together, and I try to look after the people important to him. He does not do anything for me, but the fact that he thinks of me wants me with him all the time means so much to me. He is the person I had saved my body and heart for, yet he is not interested. If it was because he did not find me attractive, I could handle that. However I have seen the men he sleeps with and he himself told me he finds me attractive but does not know why he does not like me. The amounts of pain I feel when I see him try and give his heart to men who only want him for sex kills me. It seems all it takes is for a relatively attractive guy to meet him and express sexual interest in him and he falls in love. I have ruined my chances at doing that, because if it goes wrong, I lose him as a friend. At one point I was going to start sleeping with some of the men who have been trying to sleep with me for years to seem more appealing. But other friends talked me out of it.

My question is…. I believe I am reading into some of his actions and it gives me hope he may one day want me. I have shared a bed with him on a few occasions, and during the night I would sleep turned away from him and in his sleep he would call my name and spoon and kiss the back of my neck. I never mentioned it to him because I thought it might make things awkward. In his relationships, he never instigates sex. Guys come to him. But on a few occasions he has oddly lit candles and snuggled up to me while watching a movie. His family members tell him he is stupid for not snatching me up. Also one night when I was driving him home, he brought up the topic of why I haven’t had sex yet and got upset when I said I would only sleep with someone I was in a relationship with. My question is; should I stay around and hope that one day he realizes that I am a good man and would do anything for him? Or should I try and come on to him sexually and hope this works for me like it has for all the other men? If I am going to cut him out of my life, I might as well go out with a bang right? I know he will never appreciate that I have saved my body just for him; the mental connection we share is far too intense to deny my attraction. I recently drove him out of town to move him into university, and now that he is far away I feel like I am dying on the inside. I am at the point where I cannot live with him, and I certainly cannot live without him.

I know this will probably read as a jumbled mess, but that is what I am at the moment…

 

Thanks for Piefolk and Best Regards,

Jeff

Jeff,

Thanks for writing. I hope the tone of my advice doesn’t seem harsh, but honestly, it seems like you need a kick in the pants even more than your friend.

Okay, firstly, let me answer your questions:

1) Should you stay around and hope he realizes you’re good and would do anything for him?

NO. He already realizes this. He is a selfish creature who’s allowed you do buy him things and provide for him. He already knows he can get you to do anything for him without even using his main bartering tool – sex. As far as him realizing you’re ‘good,’ don’t hold your breath. It sounds like he’s a sociopath. Sociopaths are frequently very charismatic and charming, but to a sociopath the word ‘good’ is synonymous with the word ‘weak.’ Just means he can take more advantage.

2) Should you try to come on to him sexually and hope it works point blank like it has with other men?

NO. You’ve already described  a situation that you don’t have any respect for, and now you want to try to add an element of sex to your one-sided relationship. You can bet as soon as you have sex with him, he’ll ask you to lend him money, or buy him something, and you, being a fantastic push-over, will give him whatever he wants. In effect, you’ll be participating in the prostitution of your friend that you’re so much in love with. Yuck. Is that how you want your virginity taken? By a blood sucking tick who sees it as a transaction? Ugh. I hope not.

There’s a larger issue here though, and it’s not with your friend, Jeff – it’s with you. You need to stop being such a door mat. Get rid of your ‘provider’ complex. Most people don’t buy groceries and clothing for their ‘friends.’ You offhandedly toss out that information like it’s normal. It isn’t.

That type of love (where you sacrifice your own happiness and well being for the sake of someone else) is called unconditional love. And it should be reserved for your children and possibly your parents. That’s it.

A prospective lover should have to prove their worth to you, because you’re worth being with. That’s called valuing yourself, and by making yourself the commodity, you’ll make a perspective partner know that pursuing you is worth something. Not just a transaction.

Honestly, Jeff, answering this letter has made me feel more than a little icky. It sounds to me like a habitual martyr has met up with a chronic taker. And the perfect storm of non-functional co-dependance has been established. I’m glad to hear he’s gone away to university. The farther the better.

You’re 23. It might be time to get laid, and get it over with. Or, it might be time to make a resolution that you’re going to wait for love. That’s up to you. But stop thinking that a relationship is you providing for someone. Start making them work for it a little. Feels good to be chased.

Get far, far away from your prostitute friend. And stay there. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, in my book, but he isn’t fucking you. Except for fucking with your head.