Love and Other Conundrums

January 27, 2012 in General

Love – it plays on my mind a lot, and not just on mine I know.

I was talking about it with a mate the other day, that need to love someone, and to feel loved back – it’s so strong.

And the fear that I or he won’t be loved again, won’t love again, or worse, won’t be loved again, is strong and painful. Especially when you feel, when I feel, like I have so much love to give.

I mean, yeah, of course I’ll love – I have friends, family etc who I love. I will have pets again that I love. I won’t have a life that is devoid of love, I know that. But that’s not really what I mean.

There’s that sense of recognition, of knowing and being known so well, so deeply and thoroughly that you only get if you spend lots of time with someone else. I’m talking  about that sense of having that person who knows you so well that they can finish your sentences. They automatically know why you’re grumpy, or smiling. That deep and strong sense of intimacy – that’s the thing I miss the most in my life at the moment – intimacy and recognition.

I want that intimacy, that closeness, that emotional warmth and depth – but I’m not sure I’ll find it again. And I know lots of guys who are in this position and who have these fears. I know this is not at all uncommon, and not just in the gay world either.

It feels so hard at times, to think that all the love I carry , that all the love I want to share, can’t find a man who sees it and wants it, and when I talk about it with other friends I hear the same anxieties and fears too. Sometimes I look at all the ads online for “more than sex” and it feels almost crushing, to think of all those guys out there who all say they are looking for the same thing, like me, yet we can’t seem to find each other.

At the core, at the heart of this, there’s a nagging, doubting little voice in my head that goes “You don’t have a lover because you don’t deserve one – because you’re unloveable.” Self-sabotage I know, and untrue, but that doubting little voice can be so powerful, and so corrosive. It takes energy to fight it.

It starts to raise all those questions – maybe if I changed how I looked, exercised more, lost weight, got a tan, changed how I dress, got new friends, moved to another country - maybe then I’d meet someone. But I don’t actually beleive that to be what lies at the heart of it all. Just what does though, I’m not so sure.

Why is it so damn fucking hard to meet a guy I can click with? Am I setting my standards too high? I don’t think so – I’d say I’m a realist. I just don’t seem to have much luck in meeting guys where that “Yes! You’re interesting!” response goes both ways. And then sometimes guys fall for me and I don’t for them – and I feel like a bit of a shit – one the one hand I say I want love, then when someone offers it to me I go “Um, yes but this just doesn’t feel right, so no, thanks.” And that hurts them.

But I can’t lie, I can’t pretend, and I won’t settle for second-best – it’s not fair to anyone if you do that.

I don’t blame the gay scene for it as some guys do. I have plenty of friends who met their partners through it, plenty who happily jump in and out of the scene together. I do know the difference between love and sex, between physical intimacy and emotional intimacy. The scene isn’t the easiest place to negotiate it’s true, but I don’t blame it – it’s how we use it that shapes it – and if you look around there are plenty of opportunities outside the scene as well.

I do think a big part of it comes down to luck. There are way less gay men in the world for us to choose from, far fewer to pick from, and so the odds of meeting someone you can have that click with are much worse that they are for straights.

So I go on, and I will go on – and I’m not depressed or crying as I write this or anything, I’m just aware of it, I’m conscious, I can feel it – I can feel that need to love, and to feel loved, that desire to be known, to be recognised.

I live in hope.