Weekend Writing

[Editor's note] The following piece will go in one of two ways. You'll either think this is the sweetest thing you've read (in hours) or the creepiest.

Twenty-five thousand years ago, when I was young and MySpace was cool, I befriended a cute boy with swoon-inducing dimples. He was smart, liked practically everything I liked, and had a smile that lit up my computer screen. Unfortunately for my imagined future together, this boy of mine already had a cute boy of his own-- matching dimples included. I was crushed, but those are the breaks. I decided then and there to keep tabs on them, you know, in case they broke up and I could sweep in to pick up the pieces.

Two social networks and about 6 or 7 years later, I'm begrudgingly happy to report that they're still together. Happily, together.

I can also report that my love for the first boy has evolved into a love for the both of them. As anomalies of the gay community, they're happy, loyal, and seemingly drug free. They go to Disney World, host Halloween parties, go on vacations with each other's relatives... I've even spotted them shopping at Target.

They are, for all intents and purposes, my ideal gay couple.

I've followed them faithfully from afar for a few reasons. First and foremost, they're adorable. They don’t look like the muscle queens notoriously typical of Miami. They are sweet, and dorky, and approachable. More to the point, they look genuinely happy-- both separately and when in each other's company. I like to think of them as best friends who happen to share the added bonus of being loving lovers. Above all else, they’ve remained together in a community that doesn’t place much of a premium on staying together. Granted, I only know of them from the comfort and safety of distant anonymity. But from what I’ve gauged over the years, they seem solid. I've often turned to their shining example when feeling especially low about the cesspool of boys around me.

I’ve recently come into some internal conflict about monogamy. For many years, all I wanted was a little piece of what these boys have. I wanted someone to love, to love me, and to find and share some of the greatness around us. Then I had my heart broken-- twice. As it turns out, sometimes you need more than a giving heart to make it work. You need for another heart to give it back...

Anyway, since then I’ve steered clear of getting too invested in anyone. I wandered from boy to boy, tryst to tryst, never really thinking about a future with anyone. My excuses have varied from “I’m a loner by nature”; “I don’t have time”; “I can’t make you a priority”; “I don’t want to live in Miami.” Those are all true but they are also cop-outs, mechanisms by which I avoid dealing with the fact that I’m just a plain old cynic.

I’ve soured on the idea of everlasting love.

But then I remember my boys-- The ones who continue to make it last. I remember that love is not a relic of a bygone era. It’s real, and lasting, and sprawled across the pages of Facebook. These boys I’ve never met in person have given me-- an otherwise cynical and downright jaded blogger-- hope that real, lasting, monogamous love can and does exist.