As with any relationship, there are so many questions that two men have to answer and negotiate in a romance’s fledgling stage; it can make for a rocky start for anyone who isn’t prepared for the doors of communication to be blown open. Considering the times we live in, one of the questions that many find uncomfortable (including myself) is: Will your new relationship be “open” or monogamous, or somewhere in between?
If you were to ask anyone who knows me why I’m single, most could probably produce a Top Ten list of my greatest flaws faster than you can drop a bad habit. Even those closest to me tend to assume that because I’m still single at this age (49 and holding), that I’m either damaged merchandise or that I’m too set in my ways to want a relationship. That simply isn’t true. I do want a relationship, badly. But not bad enough to settle into one that’s ‘good enough’.
As a single gay man, I’m free to engage in sex with whomever I want, when I want. But in contrast, when it comes to relationships, I am very traditional. Today’s queens gag on their cocktails when I tell them I want sexual exclusivity. Deep down, I want a monogamous relationship with a man who is committed to building a life together – till death do we part. Finding a man who shares that view seems to be as unlikely as Jussie Smollett finding his career.
In a way, I have only myself to blame. New York is not about relationships. New York is about sex; you’re either having it, looking for it or selling it. The reason this city never sleeps is because just about everyone is running around trying to get laid.
No matter where you live, even on the most basic level, finding someone compatible and who is willing to begin a relationship, is difficult. But doing it in New York is harder because the Big Apple has such a transient population. As a result, there is a never ending parade of eye-candy, in every size, shape and color imaginable. Of course the caveat being that this feast for the eyes starves the heart.
Speaking from experience, so much visual stimulation can become hard to handle. Gay men seem to suffer most of all. Within days of arrival, many develop an acute case of Rubber-Neck Syndrome (RNS). RNS is a temporary condition caused by the excessive thrashing and twisting of the cervical spine, brought on by compulsive hyper-cruising every single motherf*cker who walks down the street. Signs/symptoms may include the inability to hold a conversation; lack of commitment; loss of friendships; inability to keep one’s dick in his pants; prolonged erections; deterioration of dignity. Side effects: whiplash; extreme shallowness; isolation; decreased job performance; blue balls; chafing, blisters and soreness from constant fellatio.
Technology has made sex easier than ever to find. Today’s dating apps have made getting laid very much like one of New York’s favorite means of survival, ordering take-out. Open one of your favorite menus, whether it’s Chinese, Italian, Grindr or Scruff, and the choice is yours. Select your dish and have it delivered, usually in thirty minutes or less, 24/7, 365 days a year.
New Yorkers don’t like relationships for the same reason they don’t like to cook–it’s too much work. At the end of the day, no one wants to come home to a sink of dirty dishes or the relationship drama of a bitching boyfriend or cheating spouse.
Is there any wonder why those of us who actually do want a relationship are fighting an uphill battle? With the odds stacked against us, maybe the reason so many men are willing to enter into thruples and other multi-amorous situations is the rationale that something is better than nothing. But is it really?
Am I really that out of touch and antiquated to believe that what I want is still possible? Is it really that outlandish to admit that I want a man to call my own? A man I don’t have to share with random strangers? I want to belong to someone. I believe we all do, on some level. I believe that all of us, deep down, want to be somebody’s ‘boo’, and his alone. I want a man I can keep all to myself. Is that crazy? Has the trade-off of finding someone to share your affections and dreams with, come at the expense of self-respect and emotional integrity, all for the sake of variety?
Studies suggest, nationwide, that gay men who are over forty and single will most likely remain that way – until they die. How exciting is that to look forward to? If the situation is bleak in small towns, where competition among older gays is presumably minimal, what are my chances of finding love in Gotham? I’ll give you a hint, rhymes with “gritty”.
Thank you for reading. Until next time…
RyanRockfordNYC@gmail.com. Drop me a line, I’d love to hear from you.
