On a crisp clear night last week I was riding in the passenger seat of my friend’s car just staring at the stars…remembering.
“I used to go star gazing with 32 or 36. Sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. I would always fall asleep.”
Friend: “You really need to do that sometime with a straight man.”
“I suppose I do.”
In my mind I was…offended is not the right word. Taken aback maybe. I felt reprimanded. I would love to do romantic things like that with a straight man but I also love to do them with my gay men.
With a gay man I feel safe. I don’t worry about what he is thinking or expecting. I am not worried about myself and if I am likable or not, if he is really into me or just bored. Or if he is too into me. And my gay friends make me feel beautiful. They tell me all the time. Straight men don’t. With them I am always questioning if I am attractive or flirty enough. The last time a straight man told me I was beautiful was about two weeks ago at work. He was in the store buying a gift for his grandaughter. He told me I looked damn good. And you want to know something…it made me feel pretty damn good.
And you know, this probably has a lot to do with why I am still single. And that is fine by me. My quiet time with my gay friends is sacred to me. I know they have my back.
And I have yours. This is for you. I miss you more than I can take.