I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately. Coming out will do that. (Spoiler alert: I came out as bisexual the other day. It’s in another blog post called “Chasing cars”). Coming out is something I never thought I’d do, in fact, if I’d stopped to think about it I would have lost my nerve and not done it.
It’s like the first time I got laid. I didn’t think about it. I couldn’t. There was no blood left in my brain, for as Robin (a Fine American) Williams said, “God gave men two heads but only enough blood to run one at a time”.
I didn’t have that excuse this time. I just went for it. I’m glad I did, as the response has been overwhelming and positive. I’m sure there will be negative comments and because I’m still technically a member of my previous church there’s a chance I will be removed. It’s a closeted Southern Baptist church, meaning they don’t advertise their affiliation. There are two ways you get kicked out of a Southern Baptist church; you speak in tongues or come out as LGBTQ. You can bang the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders with your wife watching and they’ll make you a deacon, but give one blowjob… if you’re a gay tongues-speaker, you’re well and truly fucked.
Speaking of love… remember love?… this is a post about love…. I’ve been thinking about it lately. It’s been four years since my divorce. In that time I’ve had two girlfriends, two friends-with-benefits (one M and one F), and more than a few trysts. (For those who are wondering: all tests negative). I’ve been in love 1.75 times.
It could be coincidence, but I think coming out was the last piece of the puzzle I needed to be ready to truly fall in love again.
Falling in love is something I’ve tried to consciously avoid. But that’s easier said than done. Falling in love is effortless. That’s why it’s called falling. All you need is gravity. If you had to work at it, it would be called “climbing in love”. Now once you’re in love it will take some effort to keep two hearts moving in sync. But my heart falling for you? No effort at all.
The world is full of beautiful people. What makes us fall for some more than others? Why do we each have a “type”? And having a type, why do we sometimes go against it?
I don’t have an answer other than my own observations. Being in love is alchemy. You can take twelve people with similar physical and personality characteristics and there only be 1 that trips your trigger. Maybe it’s just a look, a furtive glance, an unexpected note; something gets your attention and initiates the just right blend of neurotransmitters that you become unreasonably curious. Often, love isn’t far behind. You’re hooked. Lead has been turned to gold.
I’m now ready to be open to the potential possibility of perhaps falling in love.
It’ll be a woman, because I am not romantically attracted to men.
“But wait! You just said you were, bi. Now you’re saying you’re not romantically attracted to men. Make up your mind!”
Yes, I said I am bi. But there is sexual attraction and romantic attraction. I just said I am not romantically attracted to men. I said nothing about sexually.
Back to love (we will finish this if it kills us!), I’m basically looking for a female unicorn. Better sit down. This might take longer than ordering coffee at Starbucks.
Intelligence with a dash of nerdy and a heaping helping of goofy: a must. I’m not terribly goofy, so I need someone to draw me out.
Brunettes with dark eyes that pierce mine. Combine that with intelligence/nerdy/goofiness, and I’m done. You’re my kryptonite.
Smile, nice figure, sexy girl-next-door vibe.
Accept my bisexuality, polyamorous nature, and my taste in music and I’m in love.
Told you it was a long list, although hair, eye color, and figure are all negotiable. The whole intelligence/nerdy/goofy thing is not. And neither is loving me for who I am.
And neither is the alchemy of love.