You're Not One of Those Fags Who's Afraid of Commitment...

...after all, you were in a relationship that lasted over a decade! And now you love looking for your next one. Even if sometimes the trivial pursuit sometimes seems like searching for a needle in a haystack. The good news is that you're in New York and there's a lot of gay hay to roll around in. Anyway. You are in complete shock as you sit in your Gal Pal's office and listen as she tells you about how The Most Hated Man In New York just broke up with her! Although you try to be a good friend and listen, you can't help but begin to wonder if being afraid to commit has less to do with being a gay man and more to do with being a man. After all, these two Hets are practically made for each other! They've been together for about six months now, and, out of all the relationships you've witnessed (including your own), theirs is the one relationship that you actually want to emulate. You watched as they fell in love and you were so jealous of their excitement for each other that you even reveled in listening to all the detailed heterosexual minutia of their romantic courtship. You watched as their lives slowly shifted from Single to Coupledom, and somehow this transformation seemed both natural and desirable. Instead of becoming some scary Mr. & Mrs. Stepford version of themselves, they each remained true to who they were, yet just became a better version of themselves if that makes sense. Happier. You watched, not even from afar, during every step of the way and after each relationship milestone you found yourself wishing, "That's what I want."

Only now, a measly six months later, completely out of Left Field, your Gal Pal is attempting to explain exactly why they broke up. Only nothing she says is making any sense. At all. In fact it's so frustrating that you almost begin to cry! But ultimately you realize that her explanations don't make any sense to you because they don't make any sense to her. As far as you can deduce the The Most Hated Man In New York is nothing more than a typical New York commitment-phobe. Obviously another reason to hate him... Everything was going swimmingly and then BAM! Faster than you can say "Cold Feet," this boy is out shopping for leg warmers and wool socks.

Luckily you don't have this typical male phobia. However, when you really think about it, it's certainly has been a while since you've been in a substantial relationship. Like years. Years! You begin to worry that somewhere along your Mary way, you've actually become unable to commit to having any sort of relationship. But doesn't that seem preposterous?! After all, falling in love is what you want more than anything out of life. Isn't it? Or perhaps, gasp, you're just in such a state of denial that you can't even realize that you are sabotaging yourself? Or even worse, maybe you've just become one of those fucked-up boys who refuses to be a member of any club that will have you? After all, there have been plenty of boys along the way who have definitely wanted to pursue something with you, yet ultimately you weren't all that interested. On the other hand, the boys that you are interested in seem to have the one similar trait of being rather uninterested in you. It's like some giant gay pyramid scheme where everybody is looking for some sucker who isn't selling the same bullshit that you are. The only problem with pyramid schemes is that eventually there is nobody left to buy anything. And at this very moment even you're feeling a bit skeptical about the bullshit you're trying to sell yourself about your stand on commitment.

Before you head back into the writing room to get some work done, you assure your Gal Pal that The Most Hated Man In New York is just having cold feet and you wouldn't be surprised if he emerges from his funk feeling more confident than ever. Even though you don't say it, you are definitely imagining him on his knees with Tiffany Box. And as usual, you'll be her Bridesmaid because you're never the Bride. However, when you finally get back to that blinking cursor on your laptop's screen, instead of writing you suddenly find yourself with this uncontrollable urge to look up Blonde Beard on Match.com. After all, even though things weren't perfect, he's the one boy who you really did find yourself falling for. You, of course, remember his Username and even though you know it's a huge mistake you suddenly find yourself clicking that little "Go" button to conduct the search. And as you predicted, Blonde Beard's profile is definitely there. Just like it was when you first saw his follicled face last January. You just stare at his profile photos for a moment and wonder if perhaps Blonde Beard just got cold feet? But then the masochist in you forces yourself to read his whole damn profile. You're like some gay Eve snacking on the forbidden fruit as you devour all the words about the type of man who Blonde Beard would be willing to commit to. Although the words ultimately make you feel a bit queasy, you attempt to console yourself since his words are just that: words. But this doesn't make you feel any better. At all. Anyway...