When it comes to relationships there are two kinds of F words when you first start out: future and fun. When you look at someone you can, usually, decide within the first four minutes whether or not you and this person are going to have a future, or if you are going to have fun. Futures are the ones that stay around for a long time, cuddle with you, help you put your coat on and rub your shoulders. The fun ones are the ones you store in your phone under nick names in case someone sees them calling you. If you keep a fun one around longer then you would keep a stack of deli meat, well, it's probably going to spoil on you. The taste fades and you grow sick of having it three times a day. The fun ones are never a problem if you see them again, you just smile and say hi and then keep walking; making sure they get a look at everything that they don't get anymore. Future ones are the ones that you hate bumping into again, the ones that you dive into rose bushes to avoid, jump fences to not make eye contact with and hide in the bathroom to escape from. The future ones, are, the ones that you wanted to build a life with, the ones you had the real conversations with, the ones that you kissed on the nose before you kissed on the lips. And every time a future one breaks your heart, or you see them again, or even think about them again, that's when a tiny part of you commits suicide. It feels like a tiny piece of your heart folds in on itself and stops pumping. Or a little chunk breaks off, jumps, and crashes into pieces underneath your feet. The future ones are the ones that keep you staring at the ceiling asking all those BIG scary questions after they leave you. The last time I had a future one was this time last year, and I'm still staring at the ceiling sometimes. You try to forget, but how can you forget your future? Not only has the future one been on my brain lately, but just my future in general. I keep being perceived as a flake, or as an accessory, or as a quitter or (the worst) just a stereotype. I explain everything I'm doing in my head, I make a case for my actions to the voices in my brain, and I list of my reasoning to God: but no one around my hears any of it. I'm tired of explaining everything, I'm tired of repeating everything, I'm exhausted from doing the same battles over and over again. I do what I want, it's true. I do what I want because I am the only person who knows what is best for me. I don't want to learn from anyone's mistakes but my own. I don't want to pick up where someone else left off. I don't want to take the road someone else wished they had walked. And I really don't want everyone's friggin opinion sometimes. All the things I'm good at, all the things I exceed at, I'm not supposed to. All the things I am supposed to be doing I can't stand. All the things I'm supposed to know, all the facts, all the preconceived notions, all the labels, and all the traits I can't fucking stand. Gay men are not Prada bags, or this seasons must have item, they are more then walking witty one liners, they are more then sex stories and sarcasm, they are more then bad romance and Cosmos. They can be so so so much more. They can be better then heteros. They can be smarter, they can be more intelligent. Gay men are more then just "fabulous". The scary part is not coming out of the closet, the scary part is being bold enough to be a real person and not a shiny, sparkly fag. That's the scary part. So shame on all the gay guys who are too scared to do anything else. You are all fucking pathetic. I'm doomed. The ones that I could have fun with make me want to punch them in the face until they bleed. The ones that I could have a future with are too worried about being fabulous. So that leaves me bitter and with strong urges to get in bar fights. If anyone ever thought it was easy or "fun" to be gay, they should be shot in the face and then ran over with a car and then killed again. But in a way that was featured in the Saw movies. It's not easy at all, and most days it's not even fun. It's depressing. What little hope of having a stable relationship that has a future gets killed on the daily due to continued stereotypes and assumptions. The quiet gay, which is what I consider myself, walk amongst people who have the opportunity to for stability and someone to come home to, but instead chose to focus on careers and putting their dicks into has many holes as possible. Single straight men don't realize how many opportunities are around them and instead chose to be scared and just get laid. Straight single women are all worried about their weight and are far too passive to ever get results of any kind. Single gay men are whores who don't make decisions unless E! Entertainment tells them to, oh and they are all whores. Did I say that already? Single gay females are the smartest when it comes to relationships. If you disagree with me, you're wrong. I see this everywhere, all day, every day. I watch. I observe. I listen. I read. And I read between the lines. If you think I'm wrong, you're stupid. People love telling gay guys their secrets, and I'm a gay guy. So I hear all the petty complaints from my straight friends, both genders included. And I hear about all the cardboard cut outs from my gay friends. I sallow blood on the daily because I want so fucking badly to yell and scream and demand that everyone just get their shit together and realize how lucky they are to even have someone to go to the movies with. Even with not having been in a serious relationship for over a year, I can still tell you the secret to making one work: fighting. You have to fight to make it work, you have to fight to make the person know you love them, you have to fight to protect it, to save it and to keep it. No one wants to fight anymore, every ones to busy being fabulous. God, I hate that word.
