Posts tagged “relationships”
Two small moments define love for me: my father pulling my mother up to dance to their cheesy song on an empty beach, and my impossibly cool brother literally stepping back, breathless at the sight of his girlfriend. Those unguarded moments are what the word means to me.
My boyfriend thinks he's my "exception." He is not.
Spent an hour on NoMoreDates, a dating site for serious urban professionals. Their advanced matching algorithms searched their entire database and came up with zero matches. They're supposed to solve that problem, not confirm it. It's been that kind of week, and it's only Tuesday.
I've always been drawn to boys. Every one of them. The way they move, their features, their smiles. I can't help but notice. It's spring, I'm gay, and this is my rambling love letter to the essence of boy. More valuable than cat pictures. Probably.
Three resolutions: get my driving licence so I can escape the city occasionally, lose the weight I gained when I moved to SF and take better care of my eyes, and make more time for romance. Not necessarily in that order.
A masterpiece of unintentional storytelling: Tom dominates the frame, baby Suri is his trophy, and Katie literally cranes her neck just to fit in. One photo captures their entire dynamic perfectly.
Taking a break from heavy topics to share the cutest couple alive, cuter than pandas holding hat-wearing kittens. Also: is Blair done? My sources say he'll last through the party conference, but I'm not so sure he makes it to October.
A study finds that friendliness, honesty, and niceness are now considered cool. So there. (Though I'll admit this doesn't actually prove any of my earlier points.)
I recognized my ex-housemate B from the bottom of a staircase at Leicester Square tube station, in the middle of a crowded platform. I recognized him by his ass. A skill I've apparently spent two years developing without realizing it.
81% pure on a sexual purity test. Must try harder.
Boys suck. That is all.
Six weeks without sex has pushed me past the "looking for a life partner" phase into "shag anything that moves" territory. I've graphed it. The math is not encouraging.
I want my funeral to be a joyful, colourful, joke-filled singalong that brings people together. More laughter than tears. That's how I'll know I did something worthwhile.
I took that relationship personality test everyone's doing. Apparently I'm a "Love Geek" - weirdly sexy, calm under conflict, don't date casually, would make an excellent parent. Nailed it on most counts. Only 4% of respondents share my type.
My advice to someone struggling to meet gay people: skip the clubs, which mostly attract shallow party types. Instead, meet lots of people you genuinely like through friends and random events, then find the gay ones among them. Though I've met my own boyfriends online, my single status suggests I should follow my own advice.
I took the OK Cupid personality test and got four possible results depending on how I answered ambiguous questions. Am I spontaneous or planned? Romantic or horny? I genuinely don't know, so I'm putting it to a vote. People who know me better get more say.
I'm debating whether casual sex is more "pointless" than traditional dating. Both approaches carry the same risk of wasted time and incompatibility. Good men are rare; running jokes with friends aren't. A one-night stand can become a relationship just as easily as coffee dates can go nowhere.
After four years alternating between sex-first and getting-to-know-you approaches, I'm still single with nothing lasting past three months. Neither method wins. Sexual and emotional compatibility both matter, and whichever way you narrow down candidates, you'll waste time on the incompatible ones.
Spent 36+ hours with Richard this weekend and it was wonderful. That's all I'll say about that. Also did absolutely nothing else, and I'm completely fine with it.
Being called lovely by a lovely boy makes me feel like a swooning Georgian lady. Third date Friday. You can read his blog yourselves now, so I'll just say he's much sunnier in person than his online complaints might suggest.
Met someone. It went well. Really well. Check back in seven days.
Yesterday I was ready to write off love as a glorified mating instinct dressed in rationalizations. Then I saw Love Actually and got sappy. The perfect guy already happened to me and I blew it. So: love is bullshit, love is glorious, and I want it desperately anyway.
I can only love him from a distance. When we're close, I lose sight of what matters; when we're apart, it's all I can see. I've proven myself wrong again and again, and I keep making the same mistake. I am the worst person in the world.
I'm fighting with someone through blog posts, which is absurd. I'm worried sick about you, and that's not condescension. "Okay" isn't "happy." And being made to feel wrong for wanting to help, while being kept in the dark, is maddening. Fuck this medium.
A poem about being stuck in an uncertain relationship, torn between staying and leaving, wanting more but unsure if I'm even wanted. Hot and cold signals, growing attachment despite the imperfect match. I can't explain it, but I can't quite let go either.
Finding a flatshare and finding a boyfriend are basically the same problem. I keep second-guessing myself, holding out for better options until the good ones disappear. The best ones never even make it to market. If I can solve one, maybe I can solve the other.
Answering the Friday Five: I want to find the perfect boyfriend, I'm brutally honest about haircuts, I once lost a friend who turned out to be a pathological liar, I'd live in the X-men universe to meet Iceman, and I wish I could sing.
A poem about a fractured relationship with my father, a man I loved who became my enemy. I'm desperate to forgive him but the wounds won't heal. I hate what he's become while mourning who he was.
I'm overwhelmed with projects I never finish and lonely without my uni friends around. I need a boyfriend, but my cycle of infatuation and compromise keeps failing me. I need a gay geek who's cute and likes clubbing. They basically don't exist, hence gaygeeks.org, which I haven't built yet.
A poem about the drama queen we all know: bouncing from crisis to crisis, spreading gossip, making mountains from molehills. She's exhausting, self-aware, and completely unrepentant. And honestly? Every friend group needs one.
A poem about a woman who never quite fits in, invisible at school, overlooked socially, finding hollow comfort in church work and family visits while longing for real intimacy. She goes on dates that lead nowhere. She dies alone. It's bleak, but honestly, it needed saying.
A poem about serial one-night-standers seeking connection through sex but finding only emptiness. Skilled at seduction, hopeless at intimacy, they keep returning to the meat market, alone despite never sleeping alone. You can't see another's heart by groping in the dark.
A poem about beautiful people who move through the world effortlessly, inspiring helpless devotion while remaining oblivious to their effect on others. Also a note to myself: stop forcing writing into preset beats. Let the rhythm emerge from the words instead.
I keep searching for perfection while falling for the wrong guys. Am I asking too much of the world and myself? Should I settle and call my search a halt? I can't be honest with someone else when I can't even tell myself when enough is enough.
A poem about a controlling mother who sees her son as an extension of herself, unable to accept who he really is. When he finally asserts his own identity, both find imperfect freedom.
A poem about people who treat me as a novelty rather than a person, collecting "weirdo friends" to impress others while reducing me to comfortable clichés. I refuse to be squeezed into their jigsaw. Know me as I am, or don't bother.
A poem and note to someone I love who loves another. I love them more than my own existence, so I'll love whoever makes them happy. But if they're ever unsure about their relationship, I hope they remember what real love feels like.
I'm in love, terrified, and moving fast. I've found someone who feels like a missing piece of myself, and their absence physically aches. I don't want friendship or labels. I just want them to hold me and say they miss me too.
A poem and prose piece about a friendship, or father-son relationship, that curdled into something unforgivable. I wanted to forgive, to rebuild those sandcastles, but the wounds won't close. Every time I see your face, I hear the echoes.
A poem about coming out to someone close, and the painful year since. I miss what we had before my truth changed everything between us. I don't know when we'll find our way back to each other.
I explore what makes friendships form, last, and fade: you need to know someone, admire them, care for them, and have it be mutual. Maintaining friendships requires continuous growth and communication. As for losing friends gracefully? Turns out honesty is the only option, and it still sucks.
I may be in love.
