Freedom or Sorrow

This morning I drove the BF to the airport. He is going to be gone for a couple weeks for a business trip in Asia. I am going to miss him. At the same time I am looking forward to the freedom. Deep down I don't find it odd or psychologically tenuous to have this sadness of him leaving for so long and simultaneously looking forward to the time it will allow for me to do things that I usually don't while he is around. The part that some in society would question is the fact that I view this time as a sexual playground. The moralists out there will judge. And I suppose a blog titled "Meshugener" seems appropriate for someone who has constructed such denials.

The upshot is that I am going to try to blog daily during this time about how I use my freedom and what I do with the feeling of sexual expectation that this freedom has unleashed.

At the same time only one person has my heart - explain that if you can!

Its the little things

Okay gentle readers, if you have a spare barf bag taken as a souvenir from a flight, please pull it out now, because this post may sicken some of you.

This morning, like most mornings I got up while the bf was still asleep. I took a shower and then headed downstairs to dress while eating. Arriving in the kitchen, I found the electric kettle boiled, a bowl of cereal ready, with a banana, spoon, napkin all ready for the milk.

The bf got up, set up my breakfast and went back to sleep. I know it is silly, but that tiny act made me smile and filled me with love. Yes, sexually we don't have a great relationship, but its the little things that fill me with love and sometimes you got to share it, even if it is a bit nauseating.

So I got an email from a friend the other day and he made the following comment:

"Is there something about...for gay boys, the quest for the father figure, especially if we did not connect that well, that often with our own fathers? And if some of us didn't connect to them, then do we seek, either subliminally or consciously, mates who embody some element that our fathers did not?

And is this quest for perhaps complimentary partners just an offshoot of that quest?

I don't know. It's very fuzzy to me. But like a shadow on the other side of opaque glass, I think there's something there. Could be a monster, could be a mouse, but there's a truth to the types of guys who turn us on, (beyond just the looks) and what we perhaps didn't get as boys.

AND...this is the kicker...perhaps we get older, and wiser, and learn, and then the men who inspired us when we were "boys", no longer inspire the AWE as we are "men." And perhaps that's why we grow apart from our first partners in ways that would never allow us to go back."

My first reaction was ewwwwww, I don't want to be with anyone like my Dad. Don't get me wrong I love my father, but the thought of being in love with him is another story. And yet when I look at who I have chosen to be with, he is very much like my Dad and the roles in our relationship are very similar to that of my mother and father. I am not talking about silly shallow card-board assumption of who is passive or aggressive or who is fem and butch. Rather I am blunt, pragmatic, more of doer, whereas my bf is more spacey, cerebral, repressed. We all fall in to roles no matter how much we try to avoid it.