Making it Work: Love and Commitment in a Very Gay Way

You Don't Know Me Ben Folds feat. Regina Spektor

2010-11-25T04:31:00.000-08:00

Those of you who've been with the same man for a looong time will appreciate this song.

Brent.

Social media use gives kissing the kissoff, according to new poll - Winnipeg Free Press

2010-11-24T02:29:00.000-08:00

Social media use gives kissing the kissoff, according to new poll - Winnipeg Free Press

An article I found - an interesting follow-up to my posting 'Switch off'

Brent.

Big Hole

2010-11-22T14:53:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, Sean and I were sitting on the sofa having one of our little ‘talks.’ The topic? Home improvements. A bookshelf had recently fallen over in the study because we'd not secured it to the wall, the deck was in dire need of paint and we still hadn't installed proper back steps. Our conversation became more and more depressing as the list of things needing to be done grew longer and longer.

Just as we'd exhausted the issue, we heard a loud crash. We ran outside to investigate. I shit you not, a branch from the giant gum tree beside our house had just crashed through our roof.

The insurance company categorized the mishap as an act of God. That didn't make me feel much better. Bad omen, more like it! The fact we'd just been discussing home improvements when the branch fell through the roof was both comedic and unsettling.

The good news is that everything is fixed now, thanks to a few visits from a lovely tradesman who called me 'champ.' Nothing pornographic transpired, he simply filled our gaping hole.

And with our hole fixed up, now we can get back to that growing list of things in need of repair and pray for no more acts of God.

Brent

22 !!

2010-11-21T16:08:00.000-08:00

No matter how successful and ambitious a twenty-two year old may be, they are still twenty-two. I recently became friends with a guy nearly ten years my junior. He’s an absolutely beautiful boy inside and out and his journey of growing up in a country area and moving to the big smoke sounded familiar. Although I’ve assumed things are easier now for young gay adults, it appears little has changed since I was that age.

My 22-year old friend is optimistic, excited about new opportunities for friendship, love and career. He runs his own business and he wants to buy a house when he turns 25. At the same time, he’s not driven by numbers in a bank account, expensive clothes or Apple products. There’s a sense of humility about him.

When it comes to men, he told me he usually falls for older ones, meaning guys in their mid and late 30’s because, as he put it, ‘they’re more confident and know what they want in life.’

When he told me that, I dropped my fork and he giggled at my clumsiness. Was I sitting across the table from a younger version of myself? I wanted to say something about his assumption about older guys, but I didn’t. If there’s one thing I promised myself when I his age, it was that I wouldn’t become a bitter old queen that implants negative attitudes into younger men. Experience is the only teacher.

When I was 22, I dumped my 21-year old boyfriend for a man aged 32 who appeared to know he wanted. He represented both a physical ideal and social confidence that I wanted to foster in myself. For three years I got pulled into a world of 30-year old ideals. And then, when the relationship ended I fell for a man even further ahead in age. Needless to say, for most of my adult life I’ve been the youngest person in the room.

Instead of being that trail-blazing 22-year old I once was, I quickly became the caboose, always ten steps behind my boyfriend in life experience. Is it any wonder that now at age 31, I wake up every morning not knowing what the Hell I’m doing? Sometimes wondering how I ended up across the globe for my boyfriend’s career, with little consideration for my own?

Why did I rush my youth? Not only did I not have much of an adolescence (I blame the Mormons for that), I also feel like I missed my twenties because most of that decade was spent trying to be 30. And there is a consequence to skipping the natural order of things. Mother Nature is imposing an age/experience correction on me and I’ve been behaving like a 20 year old lately … maybe that’s why even I befriended my 22-year old in the first place.

Brent.

P.S. Hindsight can be a pain in the ass sometimes!

Bathroom Scales and Morning Duty

2010-11-16T11:52:00.000-08:00

Sean bought a bathroom scale a few days ago. A real fancy, ultra thin one that lights up and blinks your weight at you. I'm not exactly sure why he bought it since we have a scale at our gym. But we're having fun with it nevertheless (I've even stood on it while taking a pee to calculate how much body weight I lose in piss). Yes, things are boring in suburban gay coupledom!

Our canine daughter (who's 4 months old today) didn't register on the scale. Apparently, the high tech bathroom scale doesn't weigh things under two kilos. Can you imagine being so light? Ruby is still so small that I'm convinced she's not purebred miniature-pinscher, but 1/2 vermin or something. We love her even though some people call her a rat and she's adjusting well to life with two Dads.

I'm not a morning person, but somehow I've assumed morning dog duties. For awhile, Ruby was waking up at 3 and 6 AM respectively. This week she's only waking up at 6 AM. Getting a full night's sleep is doing wonders for me. Last week I thought I was going to flip out and go on a plate-smashing rampage - which I've never done but reckon would be a lot of fun.

Still, 6 AM is early and after I've weighed myself while taking a piss what to do next?

When Ruby learns to walk forward on her lead instead of tying my ankles together with it, we will start doing morning walks. The fact I'm excited for the day when I can get up and take an early morning walk makes me feel incredibly old. Lord have Mercy. I'm really not in Kansas anymore, am I peeps?

Brent

Okay, I know you're dying to know. I usually piss out 0.5 - 0.7 kgs. If you're a doctor and that means something bad, DON'T TELL ME.

Switch Off

2010-11-15T16:47:00.000-08:00

I log onto Facebook today and read some ‘cutesy’ love message between these two guys that are dating. One declaring his love to the other on his wall. I nearly vomited. There’s Public Displays of Affection and there’s Facebook Displays of Affection. The latter puts me off my breakfast. In my never-to-be-humble opinion, text messages and social networking banter are shitty substitutes for phone calls and face-to-face conversation between boyfriends/partners.

Maybe I feel this way because I’m a late bloomer with computers and mobile phones. The first time I used the internet was 1997 (also the year I graduated from high school). I got my first mobile phone in 2004, and in 2006, I learned how to send a text message. In 2008, my only gay relative – my flamboyant cousin Trevor created a Facebook page for me and got me hooked up with 20 or so friends (all Mormon relatives I’ve since put on ‘limited’ profiles). It took me six months to get into the habit of checking it.

Maybe I’m bitter because I’ve also been ‘burned’ by the same technology. December, last year, when Sean and I were on hiatus, I sort of fell ‘in love’ with this guy I met at the beach. Before I knew it, I was at my shrink’s office crying because this boy-who-I-thought-I’m-in-love-with sent me a Facebook message saying he didn’t think we should see each other anymore. I was sobbing because a) I felt guilty for liking him in the first place b) I was pissed he dumped me on Facebook, c) I didn’t know how I would ‘face Facebook’ again when the boy-who-I-thought-I’m-in-love-with started networking for a date via his status updates less than 24 hours later.

My shrink’s advice? Stop using Facebook and turn off my mobile when I’m not using it. Btw, check out: http://www.bengfort.com/benjamin/facebook-anxiety-disorder-fad/

Let me rewind a bit to 2007. My friend, Christine from Edmonton is visiting me in Vancouver. She’s obsessed with some guy – one who clearly wasn’t interested in her but was kind enough to return her text messages. Christine is glued to her phone during the entire visit. Every few hours she asks me ‘Do you think I should text him?’ I say ‘No’ each time but she just ignores me, sends the text, then obsesses about how long it takes him to respond and when he does, she wants to analyze the syntax and did he sign off with a =) or a ;0 or :) ???

Holy Fuck. I wanted to shoot her. And here’s the worst part. At the end of the day, she’d transcribe their text message correspondence into a notebook. When I asked her ‘What on earth for?’ she said, ‘It’s so I don’t forget important stuff we’ve talked about.’ What a freak, I thought.

Fast forward a few years, and there I was. Obsessing about my own love interest I’d met at the beach. Sending text messages and wondering why he didn’t get back to me right away. I’d be nearly bursting for joy at the sound of new message coming in, then fall into the depths of despair when the message was from someone else. Then all the speculation, wondering why his Facebook messages were brief and why he didn’t sign off with an xoxo like he did the last time. I was embarrassed for myself. I’d become Christine (who has never been laid, btw).

Eventually, I got over the boy I had these feelings for, and the way he ‘dumped’ me. Thank God, Sean and I were able to get over the whole thing, because this other guy turned out to be a really shady character. But I’ve never gotten over the anxiety I felt towards Facebook and text messaging. As a result, I completely refuse to text, or send Sean messages on Facebook. I stand my ground on this one: Nothing can replace a phone call and/or a face to face conversation.

In case you’re wondering, Sean is my ‘friend’ on Facebook and has proper status, as in ‘Brent ______ is married to Sean _______ .’ But we do not write to each other. We don’t post cute or nasty things on each others' walls. And why would we? If the message is cute, other people out there are going to roll their eyes and spew their coffee and if the message is bitchy, mutual friends will vulture-in to offer support or feed fuel to the fire. Potential love interests who’ve been hiding in cyber-shadows will swarm and tell us how bad we were for each other in the first place …

Phew. Well, I feel much better getting that off my chest. I bet none of you would accept a friend invitation from me now?

Brent.

Permanency

2010-11-10T16:01:00.000-08:00

If you haven’t already figured it out, things are shit here again between us. A lot of the same old issues have resurfaced and we’re not sure how to deal with them. The ‘making it work’ mantra feels like a sadistic self-imposed punishment at the moment, so I’ve avoided the blog, but missed the comments and the feeling of being connected.

Today, I discovered the blog ‘Canadian Down Under.’ SPOILER ALERT – I read the last blog entry first and realized it was a final posting. The author’s five year blogging journey was over and she was saying goodbye to her readers because she was moving back to Canada. Even though I haven’t yet read any of the previous postings about her experiences in Australia, I felt the weight of all that history, all those postings and experiences. It made me realize that I have to be realistic. Perhaps, despite all good intentions, there will come a time when I’ll say goodbye to my relationship. Maybe not. I don’t know. But I’m not going to delude myself with thoughts of permanency.

For now, I keep writing, and keep working at it.

Brent.

I'm Back!

2010-10-27T04:24:00.000-07:00

I inadvertently disappeared for a week. Didn't go far, just retreated into my head.
Meaning - I haven't exactly been in 'making my relationship work' mode.

I suppose this part of the journey is just as worthy of documentation as all the other times. It may sound horrible and ugly, but sometimes I get sick of trying being the best partner/boyfriend I can be. So I'm off my game at moment but hope to have my mojo back soon.

In the meantime, I'm trying not to take myself too seriously ... or make silly conclusions about things.

As for Sean and I? He and I aren't fighting. We just aren't connecting at the moment. Not sharing much together, going into parallel lives/coexistence modes (again) However, we've planned a weekend away in a months time, so hopefully that will spark some excitement.

I'm wondering how other couples get through these phases. Maybe I just think too much.

Brent.

P.S. Stopped reading the Boy Crazy book for awhile. It was doing my head in. I'll revisit it later.

Boy Crazy ... Again!

2010-10-20T04:22:00.000-07:00

Hopefully I’m not putting everyone to sleep with my ‘Boy Crazy’ postings, but I’m finding Michael Shelton's book rather interesting. It certainly has got me thinking. Today I’ve been pondering these two opposing viewpoints:

1) A couple considers or becomes non-monogamous because there are unresolved personal/relationship issues. If these problems are overcome, the desire to stay/become monogamous returns.
2)There is no way to ensure monogamy, even if relationship obstacles have been overcome and both individuals are both happy. Author’s words: ‘[A man’s desire for] sexual novelty, experimentation, and excitement are just as predictive of sexual liaisons outside a relationship as issues occurring within that relationship.’

So, if I understand correctly, even if Sean and I were to resolve every personal/relationship obstacle the desire for us to play around might still be there because we’re innately horny? Hmm. No wonder religions were created by men – we’re scared of our own animal instincts.

A few weeks back I went on a rant about my Mormon upbringing. Just like the Catholics, Mormons are excellent at making you fear your sexual drive. You’re even taught that masturbation is a sin. I’ve often criticized the church because it makes youth feel guilty when they can’t resist the urge to have a little tug under the covers. But the logic is there – teach youth to curb their sexual drive for the sake of a monogamous future. Mind you this is only logical if you think human sexuality is something to fear, loath, and tame. And by the way, Mormons once practiced polygamy … but I’ve digressed.

The amateur/totally half-assed Buddhist in me is looking for a middle way. I have no doubt my desire to be more intimate with Sean will increase if we resolve our personal and relationship issues, but I know myself well - and I’m one horny little devil. So I tend to agree more with the author’s second statement.

Stay tuned if you dare …

Brent.

Boy Crazy #2

2010-10-18T02:53:00.000-07:00

I read about 20 pages of Boy Crazy today. The nerd in me was happy to discover a pretty extensive list references at the back of the book from academic journals. The author has supporting evidence for his claims and for me this matters, especially on the topic of monogamy. I agree with the author that a serious dialogue on the issue is important – and that we need to dispel conjecture and myth.

The research is pretty clear when it comes to the observable sexual behaviours of gay men. Studies consistently reveal the majority of gay men have engaged in sexual activities outside of their partnerships and that many keep this secret.

And yet, more and more gay men are seeking monogamous relationships for both romantic and pragmatic reasons. The author poses a couple of great questions:

How do we make gay male relationships work if we know in advance that monogamy may (and likely will) eventually be an issue?

If gay men desire monogamous relationships, why do such relationships seem to elude us?

Good questions, and I’m anxious to read his research. But for now, can I just let out a giant ‘Phew!’ Yesterday I was feeling like the only gay in the village struggling to maintain a ‘monogamous’ relationship. I know that sounds lame. Of course I know I’m not the only one, but I don’t actually have a lot of gay friends in relationships at the moment (BTW – It was nice hearing from an anonymous reader yesterday who could relate to my posting yesterday). I often find life in a committed relationship incredibly lonely. So connecting with a larger community of men in relationships makes things a little less solitary.

☺Brent

Boy Crazy #1

2010-10-16T23:49:00.000-07:00

There’s a guy I talk to at my gym who runs marathons. He’s a really nice guy – friendly, intelligent, funny … and HOT. I pretty sure he’s gay, and I’m pretty sure he’s got a boyfriend (ring on right hand).

My casual acquaintance sounds like the perfect opportunity for friendship or trouble. I’m not sure which. See, I have a problem maintaining friendships with really cute boys (like the one in question). I fall in love easily and develop infatuations. It’s not always a sexual thing either. Sometimes I just meet someone really nice and just start imagining what it would be like to have them as my boyfriend. It’s like a mini-love affair in my head.

There could be worse addictions than becoming infatuated with men, I suppose. But I hate it when it happens because a) I’m in a relationship with Sean … (Dah!!!) b) I end up wasting time and energy lost in stupid fantasies c) My affection for Sean wavers until those ‘other feelings’ dissipate.

A year ago, I bought the book Boy Crazy by Michael Shelton. I haven’t read the book yet. Has anyone out there read it?

Supposedly it’s a book to help gay men explore their perspectives on sex, fidelity, and alternative relationships. The subtitle sold me the book: ‘Why Monogamy Is So Hard for Gay Men and What You Can Do About It.’

I think I’ll start exploring the book and share this journey with you. I think I’m needing a bit of a relationship boost at the moment …

Brent

Who’s Your Daddy?

2010-10-13T15:37:00.000-07:00

The only excitement worthy of note these days is the new furry addition to our household, who like everyone else deserves a proper alias for the blog. Gertrude?
Yeah. I like the sound of that.

Gertrude (the dog) has decided to treat her fathers differently. For example, if she’s playing happily in her pen under Sean’s supervision and I walk into the room, she starts whining. She also has most of her house-training ‘accidents’ on my clock. She’s giving me a complex.

It looks as though I’ve, in essence, become her mother – the one she’s most needy for, the one she challenges most. Sean is fun Daddy who she gets to cuddle with at the end of the day when I’m doing my work in the study.

Did I really need another reason to feel like I’ve taken on the traditional housewife role in our house? What's next? Babies and an SUV?

I’ve got laundry to do ...

Brent.

Thank You

2010-10-11T13:13:00.000-07:00

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving everyone! On the weekend, a group of us expatriate Canucks gathered at my friend's place to celebrate the holiday with a posy of our favourite Australians. It was a fun event and I enjoyed watching the Aussie reaction to pumpkin pie. They say it sounds a bit revolting as a dessert until they taste it and are instantly converted.

Someone at the table asked if there are any special Thanksgiving traditions. Besides stuffing your face? Not really. Lots of families take turns going around the table to say what they're grateful for. This usually goes down in one of two ways 1) A silent competition starts where whoever can list the most things their grateful for ad nauseam, becomes the most gracious person at the table 2) Everyone simply says the one thing they are most grateful for - thus inspiring anxiety when it's your turn and you haven't thought of that one, all encompassing blessing in your life.

We didn't play the 'what are you thankful for? game.' I was relieved. I hate that game. BUT how ridiculous am I? I have a lot of great things happening in my life - and a lot to be smiling about. So for the last 24hours I've been thinking about the things I'm grateful for. I won't rant off a list to you, or tell you that Sean is the one all encompassing blessing in my life. I'll just say, it's a good thing to contemplate gratitude every now and then. Helps keep things in perspective.

Brent

P.S. Life can't be bad when you're married to someone who brings you coffee in bed.

God!

2010-10-10T03:28:00.000-07:00

Some of you commented on my posting regarding Mormon Apostle, Boyd K. Packer's remarks on the nature of homosexuality. I was upset by his talk because it seemed like a return to 1970's rhetoric. It lacked compassion was quick to condemn.

As a Mormon youth, I took the words of these 'men of God' to heart. I was told to believe their words as God's words. So when they spoke of homosexuality as a 'tendency,'as 'unnatural' and as a 'wicked abomination,' feelings of self-hatred over my attraction to men were quick to follow. For years I tried to be good 'straight' Mormon boy until I finally gave up at age 21. It took me a good 10 years to reprogram my own thinking to not be ashamed to tell people I'm gay or that I have a male partner.

(BTW - watch the film, Prayer for Bobby if you haven't already)

Now that I'm in a better head-space, my heart goes out to all those Mormon kids who are hearing that same damning message from the pulpit who will have to go through the same process of self-acceptance - assuming suicide doesn't claim them first. That's why I reacted quite angrily to the comments made by the Apostle.

Those of you who responded on my blog spoke negatively of religion. Understandably so! Like many of you, disillusionment with religion was why I now consider myself atheist.

Sometimes I'm scared to tell people I'm atheist. There's a pretty negative stigma about it, yet interestingly enough, I've found I'm a much happy person without the looming God-figure in my life. But just like I don't believe in preaching religion, I don't believe in preaching atheism. So hereafter, I will shut-up about it!

Side-bar: Maybe I'll have some kind of working-relationship with the concept of God again one day?

Now, here's the interesting bit: Sean and I have never discussed God. We've discussed religion, but not God. He was raised Catholic, though not in a strict way - just enough witness its abuse of power, corruption and use of fear tactics. We've both been incredibly quiet about God to each other. Almost like it's the one thing we mutually agree never to discuss.

SO, I'd greatly appreciate your comments on how God/religion have affected your romantic relationships. Even if you're single, I'm curious to know if you seek a partner that shares your religious views, and what are they? Atheists - have you ever had a religious boyfriend? How did that pan out? Or do any of you go to church with your partner? Do you think it's important to date someone with a similar religious background, even if you've both left that church? (For example I often speculate on the success of the relationship if I'd married another ex-Mormon).

I want to post some ideas ... and I'm getting tired of my own perspective, so email me!

brentmakingitwork@gmail.com

Xx
Brent.

Channeling the Ex

2010-10-08T15:20:00.000-07:00

Sean’s away for the weekend and I unintentionally channeled my ex-boyfriend last night. I’ve spoken of this ex before. We had a puppy together and after we split up we shared dog responsibilities like divorced parents. Eventually my ex decided it in the best interest of the dog to sell him to a stable home. It broke my heart and probably my ex’s too, but it made sense. My ex was a real sensitive guy, yet he could be ruthless when things needed to be done.

With all the excitement of having a puppy again (who is a miniature version of the dog I had with my ex) it’s no wonder the ex has been on my mind. Last night I had a dream that he and I were back together again but at the end of the dream we had to say goodbye. Sort of like our time was up and we had to part. The train station that served as the backdrop for this final goodbye was a nice added touch - thanks for that, psyche!

I woke up with tears on my pillow, or maybe it was drool? Something significant worked itself out in my head last night. Did I finally let go of my ex? I thought I already had, but maybe our paths just diverged a little further now that I’m starting new memories with a puppy – this time with Sean. Makes sense. I just saved myself a $150.00 trip to the psychologist.

I want to offer a paragraph from the novel Will Grayson, will grayson, by John Green & David Levithan. It’s a cute book about coming of age for gay teens. Nothing deep or mind-blowing, but I love this little bit on break-ups:

‘this is why we call people exes, i guess – because the paths that cross in the middle end up separating at the end. it’s too easy to see an X as a cross-out. it’s not, because there’s no way to cross out something like that. the X is a diagram of two paths.’

Brent

The Bitch (quite literally)

2010-10-07T01:21:00.000-07:00

Tension at our place has peaked on Day 5 of puppy ownership. Our little rascal is going through her separation-from-the-pack anxiety phase. Poor thing. It goes completely against her canine biology to become an independent creature. But of course, we’ve got to do it. I won’t have a wild beast running around my house when she becomes an adult.

So I’ve been listening to whining and crying off and on for several days and I’m becoming a bit unnerved. Luckily for Sean, he’s at work all day. But this makes me feel like the stay-at-home mom with the colic-baby-from-Hell. By the time Sean gets home, I’m a crabby wife that won’t put-out, or even cuddle.

But I put my hand up for this so I can't complain! And there is a light at the end of the tunnel – every Google search tells me that our puppy will learn not to cry as long as I continue to ignore her pitiful pleas to be let free. In a week or two, she’ll be the quiet angel we hope her to be. I hope …

Sean and I will get through this, however unpleasant it may be.

RAGE

2010-10-04T21:45:00.000-07:00

Called Mom yesterday and she was angry and frustrated but wouldn’t tell me why. Talked to Dad for a few minutes and he seemed distant. I couldn’t figure out why they’d both acted so strange until this morning when a friend sent me a YouTube clip of a talk given this weekend by a Mormon leader in Salt Lake City. Twice a year, the Mormon church broadcasts talks given by their leaders. Its members believe these talks to be the words of God.

Putting two and two together, I realized my Mom would have been upset with the talk about ‘Satan’s counterfeit marriages,’ given by this fossil named Boyd Packer. (He really should be careful damning homosexuals with a name containing the words ‘boy’ and ‘packer’).

I’m totally pissed and enraged by his words. Not because of their stupidity and inherent bigotry but because these words affect the relationship I have with my family. Mom and Dad have made so much progress in accepting Sean and I. Mom struggles because she wants to just move on from the whole gay issue, yet her church leaders (who speak God’s words, remember) tell her that her son lives in a counterfeit marriage designed by Satan.

How is that conducive to happy Christmas dinners?

‘Pass the mashed potatoes, Spawn of Satan.’
‘Yes, Dad.’

I try to keep an open mind about Mormonism because it was how I was raised and because my entire family believes in it so strongly. I try not to vent anger at the church, even though its condemning language did fuck me up for many years.

I don’t understand why the Mormon church feels such an incessant need to instill fear in its members about a socio-political human rights movement that IS happening and will continue to happen no matter what they preach.

A couple of phrases in the talk that really got me:

‘We raise an alarm and warn members ... that this wickedness might threaten your family circle.‘
Seriously, Boyd. The only person threatening my family circle at the moment is YOU. ‘Alarm’ and ‘warn’? Stop equating gay marriage to a terrorist attack. Fear is a lousy way to attain members.

‘Satan's many substitutes and counterfeits for marriage’
Boyd – remember when the church used to practice polygamy? And now you preach singular marriage between a man and women is the only acceptable way? If you’ve changed ‘God’s’ definition of marriage once, don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical to preach a singular definition? So your history of plural marriage was a what … a phase?

I should stop here, before my ‘wickedness’ starts dropping f-bombs and gets vicious.
I just wish the church would just leave this issue alone. They preach the importance of family and yet they pit family members against each other the more they push their agenda.

One day I hope church leaders will just shut-up and leave it alone. I don’t want their approval or acceptance, just their silence. I’ve tried to give them the respect of my silence by not speaking out, but screw it. Call a spade a spade. Mormon views on homosexuality are pure BULL SHIT.

Where’s my blood pressure pills?
Brent.

Advice to the over-thinker

2010-10-04T05:41:00.000-07:00

I gave relationship advice to a straight girl tonight and I’m hoping I haven’t said the wrong thing. I’m not too worried, actually. Gay guys have been offering bad advice to women for decades (yes, even before Will & Grace).

Abbey’s been seeing a guy for a few weeks now. She’s realized she likes him and he likes her. But now she’s starting to over-think it. Being no stranger to over-thinking, I could relate to her concern – her guy isn’t the type she usually falls for, nor the guy she ever ‘pictured’ herself with.

I just told her to enjoy the ride (that wasn’t meant to sound pornographic), to enjoy the romance, the excitement of having someone taking an interest in her. Worrying too much about whether someone is the perfect match can become a dangerous habit. I’ve written about this before, but I feel it’s worth restating: I don’t believe there is a ‘right one’ for each individual. I just believe there are duos that work and duos that don’t. Had I not given the Brent-Sean duo a chance … well … I think it goes without saying that I’m glad I did.

Brent.

Thanks for the suggestions on puppy names. Our little duo is now a trio, and we’re ecstatic. For us, a dog makes a home.

Just the Three of Us

2010-10-03T03:38:00.000-07:00

I’m having difficultly typing because a puppy has wedged herself into my armpit. Newsflash! Sean and I bought a puppy today. And I’m in shock because it all happened so quickly.

We’ve been dog shopping awhile now, but had no serious leads until yesterday when a couple posted an online ad selling their 10 -week old puppy. Unfortunately they couldn’t keep her because of a strata pet regulation and were desperate to find her a new home. They’d only had her a week, but a week is plenty of time to bond with a furry friend. I nearly cried (for them) as they passed her over into our care.

We’re trying to decide on name. All along I thought we’d end up with a boy so I’ve got no clue what to name her. Sean and I’ve been trying on names for her all evening, but nothing has really stuck. Any suggestions? A name that says, ‘I may have two gay Dads, but I’m still the bigger Diva.’

So we’ll be preoccupied with puppy things for the next little while. In no time, I hope to have her fully trained to mix me a drink and massage my feet after a long day. Or is that Sean’s job?

Brent

(She’s going to keep me up all night, isn’t she?)

Muffins Gone Bad

2010-09-30T23:59:00.000-07:00

There are two dozen muffins in our kitchen today. The first dozen have the shape, size and consistency of a hockey puck, taste like a mouthful of chalk with subtle hints of berry & banana. Dogs would think twice about eating them.

The other dozen are gooey mountains of fruity delight. The sort your Grandmother used to make only more fabulous. Muffin Break beware!

Take a wild guess how these polar opposite examples of baking ability came to coexist in our kitchen?

I was in a domestic mood yesterday and decided to watch a cooking show. For some sick, twisted reason I was inspired to bake muffins. I followed a recipe and produced twelve of the worse tasting muffins on the planet. They even stuck to the bottom of the tray and Sean had to dig them out with a butter knife (he wouldn’t let me do it because he was scared I’d scratch the muffin tray).

I’m no stranger to culinary disaster. I told Sean not to eat them, then left the house to meet up with a friend.

I returned a few hours later and the house smelled like God’s bakery. While I was out, Sean had baked twelve beautiful muffins using the same ingredients. I guess I just don’t have the touch.

Dear Sean was kind enough to display our muffins side by side. Sort of like a Monet hanging next to a toddler’s crayon drawing of cow poo.

There are so many ways I could interpret this event. I could say, ‘Wow- what a competitive asshole,’ OR ‘Wow – how sweet of him to fix my disaster.’

I decided to blow it off with a little humour. Best strategy, I reckon. The thing is, Sean likes food and he knows how to prepare anything. So when he saw I was baking muffins I think I teased his appetite. And since there’d be no satisfaction in eating mine (nobody likes broken teeth) he just couldn’t help himself – he HAD to make muffins.

And today? I’ve had this song playing non-stop in my head:

(Sarcasm FULLY intended)

Thanks for the yummy muffins, Sean. But look, mate, I’ve got my dignity. I’m eating mine.

Brent.

Couples I Admire #1

2010-09-29T20:08:00.000-07:00

I preview this posting with a disclaimer story:

A year ago, at a friend’s party, I met a gay couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other. With all their flirting, joking and affectionate glances, I mistook them as ‘newlyweds.’ I was shocked when they told me they’d been together ten years. Their secret? They’d recently broken-up and gotten back together.

My point - You can never really gauge a couple’s level of contentment by how they appear in public.

HOWEVER … there are at least half a dozen gay couples I admire and look up to as ‘relationship role-models.’ And why not look to other couples for inspiration? As much as I like trail-blazing, there’s no point in re-inventing the pink wheel.

So today, I want to showcase Dan Savage and Terry Miller. I've never met them personally, but they used to peruse around my old neighborhood in Vancouver (btw - peruse in the non-cruisy way).

I’ve already shouted Dan Savage’s praise in my posting ‘The Commitment.’ Dan is a writer/sex advise columnist. In his memoirs, he talks a lot about his life with Terry, and their adopted son D.J.

What I know about their relationship comes from what I’ve read in Dan’s books and columns - which is actually quite a bit. Terry on the other hand remains a quiet, private person. He is a potter and stay-at-home dad. He rarely interviews.

Here’s some things I admire about their relationship:

1) They are unapologetic about wanting a long-term commitment and family.
2) Terry and Dan have defined roles in their household that allows things to run relatively smoothly.
3) They are realistic about sex. Dan says they are a monogamous couple (but yes they’ve had a threesome).
4) They share a common goal and were able to realize it – they adopted a child (now a teenager) and continue to provide a comfortable home for him and each other
5) They maintain strong ties with extended family, even though coming-out was difficult for both of them

But one of the main reasons I wanted to discuss them today is because they’ve recently launched a YouTube channel as a couple, to provide support and encouragement for gay teens facing discrimination and bullying at school. The clip below is the first time I've heard Terry speak. He’s absolutely adorable, too … I think you’ll enjoy it.

I like the approach of the clip. By appearing as a gay couple, Dan and Terry are showing gay teens that life doesn’t necessarily have to be a lonely just because your gay. You can still have a spouse and children if you so choose.

So thanks to Dan and Terry for reaching out as a couple to gay youth. As individuals and as a couple, you are an inspiration to me.

Brent

The Mormon Influence

2010-09-28T02:24:00.000-07:00

Today a reader, Jeff suggested that my religious upbringing has affected my approach to my relationship. I have no doubt that Mormonism - a faith I removed myself from years ago - has left its imprint on my thinking. Btw, Jeff, great to hear from a fellow ex-Mormon!

The big joke of it all is that Mormonism and homosexuality are mutually exclusive entities (according to Mormons). You can't exactly bring your boyfriend to church and expect to be recognized as an active, faithful, obedient member of the faith. So I find it funny when I catch myself approaching my big gay relationship in a very Mormon way.

W-H-Y ???

The Mormon approach to marriage is pretty simple (I'm referring to non-polygamist 'mainstream' Mormons). It goes like this: You get married. You have children. You don't abuse your spouse or kids, therefore you don't divorce. You stay married.

It's a philosophy that sounds familiar (minus the heterosexual bits). I feel an impending need to make my relationship work even though Sean and I aren't exactly a match made in heaven (tongue in cheek). Giving up feels wrong ... or dare I say sinful?

Certainly there are merits to Mormon approach to marriage. But there's danger in it too. Many Mormon couples I know (including most of my Aunts & Uncles, parents and Grandparents) stay together because God requires it. They put up with each other's shit all their lives because there's a reward at the end.

Struggle. Endure. Be Rewarded. The lessons I was taught all my life. Is that why I often feel like the good is still to come? Is that why I keep thinking Sean and I are going to be happy in the future? It's a cliche, but I'm going to say it - the time to be happy is now. I have to learn how to be happy DURING the struggle - and do it out of love, not because it's the 'right' thing to do.

So thanks, Jeff for making me think about my motivations. It's good to check-in every now and then with the old Mormon psyche ...

Brent.

The Brown Note

2010-09-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

Has anyone seen the South Park episode where the boys discover a pitch (played on recorder) that makes people crap their pants? Sean claims the brown note is a real phenomenon. I think he’s full of shit.

Whether it’s true or not, what Sean doesn’t know is that I get the shits (figuratively this time) when he talks loudly. And when he does the high-pitched hyena laugh.
Sean’s friend is visiting and whenever she’s around Sean doesn’t shut-up. He talks at her non-stop at a volume and intensity that drives me nuts. And when they watch t.v. together they do their hyena laugh during the funny bits. It’s a bit too theatrical for me … especially at 11:30 at night when I’m trying to sleep.

All our friends know Sean to be an animated conversationalist. And the more people there are in the room, the louder his voice becomes. But unfortunately I can’t do anything about it. Sean has significant hearing loss. So when the noise level goes up around him, he overcompensates without knowing it.

How can you get angry with someone for a medical problem? You can’t. But no matter how many times I remind myself, I get frazzled and agitated when he gets loud. I’m a soft-spoken guy who loves his peace and quiet.

There isn’t an answer to every relationship grievance. Not always a happy compromise. Sometimes you just have to cope, or shit your pants.

Brent.

Relationship Reset

2010-09-24T22:42:00.000-07:00

I’ve been on tour the past few days, performing concerts in decrepit country theatres throughout the region. It’s been a bit exhausting, but I’ve been enjoying the time alone driving through the countryside in my little economy compact vehicle.

I make great company to myself when I’m road trip’n. I know exactly when to change the music, when to be quiet, when to sing, when think, when to pull-over for a piss. Road trips with the partner are never that easy.

For me, getting in the car and going away for few days on my own is the best therapy for my relationship. It’s like pressing a relationship reset button.

Sean doesn’t get the same ich to travel alone. Usually when I tell him I’m going away for a few days he gets a bit pouty … but he soon realizes doing so helps me refresh & recharge. That not only means he gets a happier partner when I return, he also gets a hornier one. So suck it up, baby. When I get home you’ll be happy I went away. How’s that for circular logic?

Brent
On the road again …

Follow-up

2010-09-22T05:58:00.000-07:00

A follow up to my post, ‘Two musicians under one roof’

My previous boyfriend believed that work and home life should be separate entities. He’d never entertain a conversation about his job beyond one or two words. When I’d talk about my career (for the better or worse) he’d just nod and grunt. Only once did he entertain a conversation about my job and that was to get angry at me for bitching about it.

Eventually I stopped talking about work and he maintained his code of silence. There were wonderful things about this arrangement. It taught me not to vent about stresses of the job. I even learned to see my job as something I do, not as something I am.

Musicians in general don’t see music as a job. It is something they believe is an essential part of them. So it was a big learning curve for me to start thinking about music as the thing that pays the bills – end of story.

However, a few years into the relationship I woke up one day and realized I had no clue what my partner did for a living, except in a very vague sense - and vice versa. I now believe he was extremely stressed at work and was playing a game of avoidance.

Me: How was your day?’
Him : Fine
Translation: I'm confused, I'm stressed and I need a hug)

After we broke up and I started dating Sean, it was liberating to be able to talk about work again, to be able discuss the realities of our jobs with a common language. It’s clearly been the healthier arrangement for me. I feel like I know Sean so much better than I ever knew my ex, and his one-word answers.

Either way, my next husband is going to be an Olympic swimmer and I, his kept-trophy-husband. Just like Muriel, only better because he’ll actually love me and we won’t get divorced.

(Ignore previous paragraph. It’s late)

Brent.

NAKED!

2010-09-21T03:41:00.000-07:00

There are two types of people in this world. Those who like to shed their clothing and run around naked, and those who avoid nudity at all costs (like those guys in the locker room who slip their underwear on and off under a towel).

I’m a big fan of nudity – at home, at work (or not), at play. So when I woke up this morning and smelled spring in the air, I had the urge to sit naked on the deck and sip tea. I didn’t do so because: A. Drinking hot beverages is dangerous in the nude, B. A pair of landscapers disguised as convicted murderers were working nearby, C. I had to head off early for a rehearsal.

Sean isn’t much of an exhibitionist. I get to see him naked for about 30 seconds a day when he steps out of the shower. He doesn’t prance around the house like a horny reindeer the way I do. He’s pretty used to my flashings – in fact, he rarely bats an eye. Nor does he raise an eyebrow when I tell him I’m off to the beach. He knows I love skinny dipping and beach bumming in my birthday suit. He’s never discouraged me from having a nude day, but he hasn’t joined me for one either (and yes, he’s been invited).

But little does Sean know …

This year I’ve got plans to introduce him to the joys of hanging free. I’m going to start small. First, naked drinks (and maybe a round of Scrabble?) in the clothing-free zone – a secluded garden space behind the house sunny enough to bake our buns. Then, a naked dip at the local rock pool on a hot summer night, then … BANG! we’re leathered-up with our dicks hanging out at Folsom San Franisco 2011. Or not.

I’ll give it a go and see how he responds. Nobody should be forced to remove their clothing unless checking into prison, or auditioning for a Chi Chi LaRue production. But I hope through my powers of nudie persuasion I’ll convince him to be a little less clothed this season.

Brent.

Two musicians under one roof

2010-09-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

I’ve never really mentioned WHAT I do for a living. I’m a musician and teacher. Piano is my instrument, and for as long as I can remember, playing piano has been part of my daily experience.

Though I love music and spending thankless hours alone in a room with an instrument, the one thing I hate about my profession is dealing with fellow musicians.

Musicians are awful people. Take my word for it – I’ve been around enough of them over the years. We are an egotistical, paranoid, selfish, and self-destructive bunch.

Dating a musician? RUN!!!

I never imagined myself settling down with another musician – yet I ended up marrying one. Sean is also a musician by trade. And he’s a fucking amazing one too.

But because I generally hate musicians – and Sean knows this – we pretend to be anything but in our daily lives. Unlike other musician-couples we know, we DO NOT cuddle up and listen to Beethoven symphonies, we DON’T go to concerts unless we’re performing in them, and we DON’T discuss the music scene unless to make fun of it.

There are a lot of pros and cons to living with another musician. The pros are having the insider’s perspective on your partner’s work, understanding the stresses and anxieties, being able to ‘talk shop’ with all the lingo. Cons? I hate musicians. So when Sean does something very musician-like, I get disproportionately angry. I project all my anger I hold towards my fellow egotistical, paranoid, selfish, and self-destructive musicians onto Sean. The latter has happened a few times recently because I’m stressed about an upcoming tour (one with fellow musicians).

I’m sure I’d be equally stressed about the tour if I’d married a surgeon. So maybe it’s a good thing I live with Sean because he understands why I’m so on edge these days. He gets it. He knows that when I’m angry and pounding the shit out my piano it’s best not to say ‘Is something wrong?’ He knows it’s part of the process and I don’t have to explain it.

And vice versa. Maybe misery just deserves it’s own company?

Until I decide to fulfil my life’s calling as naked maid, I remain faithfully yours, Hubby.

Brent

The road thus far

2010-09-18T04:43:00.000-07:00

I just realized I’ve been up to this blogging thing for two months. Fourty-three postings about my life with Sean. I guess this means I’m a convert to blogging. It’s like journaling, only a bit more voyeuristic and interactive. I even have a few readers (thanks for humouring me with the comments, Btw).

The blog has kept me focused on my commitment. There’s been moments where I’ve been tempted to fabricate some bits, but really, what would be the point of bending the truth? It’s my bloody blog.

And the honest to God truth is that the vast majority of the time, I’m happy I choose to stick it out and make things work. The challenge ahead is learning to cope with the things that constantly detract me from the relationship. Or find creative ways around them. I believe the latter is were Sean and I are headed in the near future.

So I’ll keep writing and making the entries as real as possible. As always, I love hearing your thoughts. Be in touch.

Brent.

The Great Wall of Down

2010-09-16T06:07:00.000-07:00

I’ve discovered the most comfortable sleeping position. I call it The Great Wall of Down. Placing pillows end to end I create a line down the middle of our mattress separating Sean’s nocturnal territory from mine.

There are two times of the day I enjoy my privacy – during all phases of dozing-off and whilst eating breakfast cereal (I used to make a cubicle out of the cereal boxes as a kid to avoid eye contact with family members).

The Great Wall of Down makes a great spooning partner. Throw an arm or leg over it in the middle of the night and it doesn’t stir or whimper or accuse you of spousal abuse.

I’m starting to love the GWD.

But if I ever take this to the next level and start posting videos of me humping the GWD, please organize an intervention.

Brent.

When your husband sends you email porn

2010-09-14T02:55:00.000-07:00

I’m having a shitty go of things at the moment. But there is light at the end of the tunnel (holidays coming up in 12 days). Sean’s been sensitive to my shift in mood and has been increasing my dosage of hugs and backrubs. I’m thankful for that, and will owe him big time when I’ve got a better grip on things.

When I opened my email this afternoon I had a message from Sean, subject: Your type of thing? Attached was a picture of a HOT stud bent-over a bed, spread-eagle, in a jock strap. Nice pic. It reminded me that even when life sucks, there’s always porn and husbands that send it. Do straight couples do that? I doubt it …

So thanks Sean for the afternoon hard-on. You know how to brighten my day.

Brent.

Four

2010-09-13T05:12:00.000-07:00

Despite the failure of Nookii Saturday night, we ended up having a great weekend. Friends came for a visit on Sunday – another gay couple we met last year. I booked them in nearly a month ago since our schedules were all so different. Should getting together with friends really require one month’s notice? Craziness!

Anyway, we had a fantastic time. It was only the second time we’ve seen this couple outside of larger social events and parties. We shared a lot of laughs and we got to know them on a more intimate level. The relationship analyst in me enjoyed watching another gay couple interact. They too have regular ups and downs, but I caught several affectionate glances exchanged between them – no doubt they’ll be travelling together a long time.

We’ve already arranged our next double-date. It’ll be a horror movie night at our place in a few weeks time. I’m practically a horror film virgin so everyone is expecting me scream like a girl. I won’t indulge them (if I can help it).
Having another gay couple to do things with is a real nice, or so I’m realizing. Four is a good even number. Four works for me. A bit domestic, but fuck, I’m a domestic guy.

Brent.

The Dangers of Nookii

2010-09-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

Do not play XXX-rated board games with your significant other. This only leads to disaster.

At that Goddamned sex-party I attended this week, the yobbo sales representative showed us Nookii – a kinky foreplay game. Simple rules: select a card from the stack and perform its instructions on your partner. Cheesy lame instructions like ‘moisten my nipples then, with a gentle pinch, trigger their pertness.’ There’s also a dice and timer involved. Roll a five, for example, and you have to perform that action for five minutes.

Our sales rep didn’t have great things to say about Nookii. He suggested we create our own Nookii game and save ourselves 50 bucks. Since foreplay has been uncreative and often non-existent, I introduced the game to Sean last night. I asked him to write 7 different non-penetration activities he’d like me to perform on him on pieces of paper. I did the same.

Let the disaster begin. Actually, the first few turns went well. But then I read one of his cards that said ‘kiss me like you actually love me.’ I was pissed. I know I often don’t show my love for him in the ways he’d like – but I’m trying! In fact I suggested the game as a way to help us rekindle the intimacy we one shared. I didn’t appreciate the reminder that I haven’t been kissing him passionately enough lately.
But, I swallowed my pride, didn’t say anything and started to kiss him, but he clearly wasn’t feeling the passion and told me to stop. Besides I was giving him whisker burn.

We continued the game, but by the time we finished I was no longer in the mood to even have sex. At the start of the game, I was excited about letting him fuck me at the end. Instead we finished ourselves off. We didn’t say goodnight and both woke up in shitty moods.

Think twice about playing home-made versions of Nookii. It could be an opportunity for your partner to voice his complaints about your love life in a passive aggressive way. It was also lame to put a timer on – sex needs to happen a lot more organically, in my never-to-be-humble opinion.

I’m prepared to take the blame for last night’s horrible sex. It was my idea to play the game. And believe me, we WON’T be playing it again.

Brent

Red Alert?

2010-09-10T03:04:00.000-07:00

Day one of my sexual quest didn’t go so well ☹

I went for dinner with a friend I used to make-out with, a guy I still find mouth-watering. If it’s true we’re reincarnated to fulfill unfinished business of a previous life, then the man I’m speaking of will probably be a future partner, or just someone I have amazing sex with …

This friend and I acknowledged the sexual tension in our friendship at dinner. We didn’t make any grandiose conclusions about it, just admitted it.
So needless to say, the evening didn’t put me in the mood to explore sexual things with Sean.

I guess this is where lines and boundaries aren’t clear for me. As a gay guy, I like hanging out with other gay men. With most of my gay friends there is absolutely no sexual tension, but there are a few that make me want to tear off their clothes and eat them up.

But I don’t, now that I’m committed to making my relationship work.

This morning Sean and I had our first grown-up talk about monogamy (clearly triggered from my emotions of the previous night). We didn’t make any big decisions, or declare ourselves open, or monogamous. I guess we just acknowledged the fact that we have to be realistic about the future.

In the meantime, I’m trying not to obsess about this other guy. I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to remain friends despite the fact we want to screw each other. Or, is this a big red alert? Am I’m deluding myself? Playing with fire? The jury’s out.
For now, it’s Friday night and I’m looking forward to the pizza and wine about to be consumed with Sean, the MOST important man in my life.

Brent

The Sex Toy Party

2010-09-08T19:06:00.000-07:00

I went to my first sex toy party last night with friends Sam and Abbey. Sam and I were the only males in the room besides the consultant. So for nearly two hours, I had the pleasure (?) of listening to women talk about their vaginas. Ew. The the ‘V’ word! Actually I left the party feeling a little jaded, wishing I too had a vagina. They seem like lots of fun considering the variety of toys available.

For us guys in the room, we were shown one or two cock rings which had vibrators attached to pleasure the female. The consultant – a real bogan who used the word ‘fuck’ and ‘pussy’ more times than I care to remember – clearly didn’t realize the men in the room were gay. He even made a borderline comment about gay people that almost made my claws come out. Loser!

Not a great party for me. Maybe I just went to the wrong one. I’m sure there are sex toy parties for men. If anyone is hosting one, let me know. But here’s the thing that really struck me after the party. All the women in attendance (except one) were middle-aged and either lacking a sex partner, or talked of a partner who didn’t satisfy them.

As we age, is sex destined to become a frustrated masturbatory activity? It appeared that way for the women in the group … and for me too.

My sex life with Sean has definitely entered new phase of boredom. I masturbate more than I have sex with him.

When we were a new couple, sex just happened. Frequently. But over the years, Sean and I got frustrated with each other’s quirks – his reluctance to bottom, or do anything remotely kinky, my reluctance to be romantic and sensual. So for me, the party was a wake-up call. It’s time to explore sex more methodically since it doesn’t happen on its own much anymore.

I’ve started brainstorming for ideas on how Sean and I can enjoy, and even look forward to sex. I’ll be trying out some of these ideas and writing about them over the next few weeks. I hope it’ll be a fun quest.

Brent.

Quickie

2010-09-06T21:36:00.000-07:00

A sudden wave of sexual mischievousness came over me as Sean was getting ready for work this morning. He was naked and fixing his hair (the only time Sean wanders shamelessly naked in the house are those five short minutes between showering and leaving the house). I decided to give his wiener an extended good morning kiss. As he started getting hard, he glanced at the clock. I decided it would be best to let him get ready, but as I got up off my knees to leave, he said, ‘Well, now you’re gonna have to finish the job. I’ve got 5 minutes.’

I pushed him onto the bed and gave him the quickest, sloppiest blow job of all time. Then I let him get dressed. Moments later as left the house, he thanked me for the blow-and-go (his words). Strangely, the brief encounter - that involved no reciprocation - was one of our hottest moments in months.

I’ve forgotten how exciting it can be to give Sean a quick blow-job at an inconvenient moment. It was rather satisfying to see him leave the house a little flushed with a big grin on his face.

I’m pretty sure I’m running an orgasm deficit with Sean. He’s gotten me off without reciprocation more times than I’ve done the same for him. But paying back the debt can be fun … as I discovered this morning.

Brent.

Jinxing It

2010-09-06T03:06:00.000-07:00

I learned my lesson. You should never jinx a weekend get-away by writing about it first. On Friday I wrote ‘If the weather is warm enough, we might go sit a few hours at the beach, read, and … ‘

The Gods of gay couple-dom had fun with this one. Shortly after we arrived at our friend’s place, the SES issued wind warning. Then we spent the night listening to potted plants flying off balconies, garbage bins toppling down the street, amputated tree limbs hitting the roof. In the morning we had no power, no hot water, no coffee.

There was no reading on the beach. We drove home, dodging wind kill (which included an over-turned caravan).

The upside? Sean and I got to spend lots of time in the car … I’m being sarcastic here. So the best part of the weekend was its tail end. Sunday night we cuddled up and watched movies like the cute domestic - albeit slightly boring - gay couple that we are.

Brent

Escaping with Sean

2010-09-03T02:54:00.000-07:00

Work commitments make September my busiest month of 2010. I’ve got a big project on the go that will occupy me seven days a week until October. But before the madness begins, Sean and I are escaping tomorrow for an over-nighter. We’re headed down the coast to visit a friend.

I’m looking forward to a night away with Sean. If the weather is warm enough, we might go sit a few hours at the beach, read, and perhaps cuddle? Since our friend is an older female with low tolerance for perversion, we won’t have loud kinky sex at her place (I’m a polite guest). But hey, quiet sex can be fun sex.

I’m hoping we’ll kick back and enjoy each other’s company over the weekend. We’ve spent the past few weekends at home and I think we’re both looking forward to a change of scene. A lot of my work is done from home, so sometimes the boundaries between work/pleasure get blurred.

A close friend in Vancouver has a similar problem. He works as a building manager and struggles to relax on days off because he lives where he works (isn't that like shitting where you eat?). Last year my friend and his boyfriend bought a small cabin in the woods so that time-off could be more relaxing. One day, if Sean and I can work out the economics, we’d like to either re-locate my studio out of the house, or buy a small weekender. I think it would work wonders. But in the meantime, we’ll have to organize more over-nighters … assuming the coming one meets expectations. I’ll let you know.

Brent

The Enemy in the Kitchen

2010-09-01T03:56:00.000-07:00

It arrived a few weeks ago. A gift from Sean’s mom that will either cause divorce or morbid obesity.

It’s a bread-maker. And it’s Sean’s new best friend.

We both have a weakness for carbohydrates. My definition of heaven is being locked in a bakery filled with rolls, loafs, muffins, cakes, cookies, and scrolls. Add Jensen Ackles, naked and sprinkled with icing sugar and you have nirvana.

Sean the mad-baker has declared war on my disappearing six-pack. At present there are two yummy loaves on our bench – one of them still warm.

Damn him!

As I see it, I’ve got the following options:
1) Start sending Sean’s mother hate mail
2) Install a padlock on the pantry
3) Develop self control (Scrap that)
4) Enter Australia’s biggest loser next year
5) Eat the bread and shut up about it.

I know the bread-making madness will stop eventually. Sean gets a new kitchen appliance every now and then and goes crazy. But he’ll eventually tire of it – God, I hope so. In the meantime this porker will be spending more time with his good ol’ pal - the treadmill.

Shit, where’s the butter?

Expanding Horizontally,
Brent

Good-bye Winter

2010-08-31T04:24:00.000-07:00

Good-bye winter!?

It still feels strange living the seasons in reverse.

Nevertheless, to send off this final day of Aussie winter, I thought I'd share my favourite winter memory spent with Sean.

Back in 2007, I took Sean on a ski trip to the Rocky Mountains. He did well for his first time, I'll give him that. At the end of his first day he'd graduated from the bunny slope and was able to join the big boys (like me) on the big boy runs. And because he tends to beat me at everything, I had to grab for the camera after this wipe-out into a snow bank. He absolutely hates this video. That's why I'm sharing it with all of you. Enjoy!

Note to all you romantics - heading into snow territory with your boyfriend is not cold. It's fucking hot.

Brent.

THE SLAP!

2010-08-30T05:54:00.000-07:00

I’ve nearly finished reading Christos Tsiolkas’s latest novel, The Slap (if you’re thinking about reading it, don’t read this posting so I don’t spoil it). It amazed me how the author was able to take a single event – a man slapping a child that is not his own – as a platform to dive into the intricate complexities of love, friendship, and marriage.

One of the most endearing characters, Aisha in the face of near marital-break-down comes to a new understanding about love. I have to quote the author here, because his words perfectly describe how I redefined my love for Sean after our near-break down:

‘This was [love’s] shape and essence, once the lust and ecstasy and danger and adventure had gone. Love, at its core, was negotiation, the surrender of two individuals to the messy, banal, domestic realities of sharing a life together.’

Aisha’s fidelity is challenged when she meets a sexy Canadian (as if there’s any other kind of Canuck). Ultimately she forgoes the opportunity for new love to secure a familiar happiness with her husband:

‘She had to forego the risk of an unknown, most likely impossible, most probably unobtainable, alternative happiness. She couldn’t take the risk. She was too tired.’

My own challenge, once the danger, ecstasy and adventure died down with Sean was to feel comfortable with familiar happiness. In my 20’s, love was about excitement. When I turned 30, I panicked because my relationship felt comfortable and familiar, not exciting and passionate. I was constantly bothered by thoughts that I should be looking elsewhere, not surrendering to a relationship just for the sake of wanting familiarity.

But for the past while, I’ve felt as though I can’t take the risk of forfeiting what I have for something that very well may be unobtainable – the fantasy guy who’ll always excite me, never do me wrong, never age, nor fart in bed. I’m too tired to find that guy anyway. There is nothing wrong with familiar happiness. But maybe coming to this realization requires the challenge of a near marital break-down to understand.

Brent.

Tying him down

2010-08-28T16:43:00.000-07:00

I've got a theory. The evil Gods of the homo-underworld enjoy conspiring against gay couples on the weekends. I’d rather have an arrow in my ass, thank-you very much.

We haven’t been arguing. But we did have a lengthy discussion about a job opportunity for Sean that would require yet another major move.

My first thought - Ugh! Here we go again!
I’ve already moved twice in three years for his career. And after the last move, we agreed we'd stay put for five years. Catch our breath, relax, and put some roots down (pun fully intended). So I was disappointed he was bringing it up again. Since our decision to stay put, he's considered a change of location three times. Am I bitching? Yes, maybe just a little.

It first I wasn't sure why he brought it up because after doing so, he told me he'd already decided not to apply. But then I read between the lines. Sean was testing the waters. He wants to apply, but knows I don't want to move yet. So by bringing it up, he was seeking my approval. And if I were to encourage him to apply, he'd do it. And I have no doubt he'd get the job ... and I'd be packing up the house.

To complicate things, I’m considering a career change too. I’d like to resume my studies next year, possibly another graduate degree – or perhaps do my own doctorate. Because I have such a great job now that I’ll be able to keep as I study, I want to stay put. I’ve started over too many times in the last couple of years.

I’ve mentioned all of the above to Sean on numerous occasions and he seems to agree or at least understand my concern. I think the hardest thing about this scenario is that I don’t actually want to restrict Sean or tie him down. I want him to be happy in his career. I’ve told him that he should go wherever his job takes him – but I’ve also defined my limits. Ultimately he’s more interested in keeping me than landing the latest flashy new job elsewhere. I wish I found that flattering. But it’s a burden – because sometimes I feel like I'm tying him down. I don’t like holding all the cards here. I feel like I'm responsible for two careers.

I’m not sure if I’m seeing this situation objectively. That’s why I’m posting this. Correct me if I’m out of line. I need a fresh perspective on this one.

Brent

Event Horizon

2010-08-27T03:59:00.000-07:00

We’ve begun the official hunt for a third member of our household. We’re ready for a puppy! We’ve decided on a breed and now we’re looking for a breeder who’ll have puppies ready for the early part of October. I’ve got two weeks off work so I’ll be dedicating my time to puppy training.

We’re excited. We’ve even started picking names. I know, pretty cheesy, eh? By the way, we’re getting a boy this time. The last dog was an alpha-female – a real bitch. We adopted her from friends and we inherited a lot of bad behaviours. I know a thing or two about puppy training because I used to work at a Doggy Day Care. So I look forward to starting at the very beginning and making sure puppy knows his Daddies are in charge.

It'll be interesting to see how our future little beast will change the dynamics in our our home. I anticipate many happy moments.

Wish us luck on the hunt.

Brent.

99.666%

2010-08-25T22:16:00.000-07:00

When I’m in need of a little comic relief, I go to see my hairstylist Nick. Sometimes I go to drool – he’s young, hot, buff, and … straight. Very straight. So straight, he’s comfortable flirting with his gay client. I’m not complaining.

Nick and I always get into these lengthy conversations about sex. I used to get pretty turned-on talking with a hot straight guy about events involving his penis. I seem to have a way of making people comfortable talking about sex – or so it seems with Nick. In fact, I have to work hard to keep the conversation away from sex whenever I’m with him.

Today he wanted to discuss fidelity. He’s had a girlfriend since high school and for the last five years he’s stayed ‘loyal’ (I hate that word and it’s misuse, that’s why it’s flanked by quotations). Today he told me he’d consider a quick fling – but only if he was away on vacation.

So I confessed, as I’m confessing to you now: when I was on vacation, I went on a date just for the Hell of it. The guy I had drinks with was aware I was in a relationship and that I was on vacation. We had a fun evening together. No sex, but there was a little feeling each other up at the bar. Maybe a kiss.

Okay, I stuck my tongue down his throat.

It didn’t feel like a big deal. At that point in the vacation, I’d realized how much I was in love with Sean and how much I wanted to make it work. So the making out was inconsequential to me. And guess what? Last year, Sean and I both had sex with other people independently.

I have no doubt that Nick will one day go on a trip with some mates and have sex with some random girl. Should this information ever come to light, his girlfriend will dump him. I can tell Nick really wants to stay with his girlfriend, but let’s face it … he’s not even 25 and his hormones are running rampant.

The number of men in relationships that have sex with other people (frequently or on rare occasion) is high. I need to find some studies to prove my point, but we all know anecdotally the fact men typically aren’t 100% monogamous.

I do believe there is a difference between frequent extra-martial sex and occasional extra-martial sex. If you were to add up all the days of my relationship I’ve been sexually monogamous to Sean it would be 99.666% and vice versa (as far as I know). But yet if I tell people I’ve had sex outside of my relationship, I’m either considered a cheater, or that I’m in an open-relationship. I’d like there to be shades of gray. Because without shades of gray, we have guys like Nick who torment themselves over questions of fidelity.

Keep this a secret between you and I, but I decided in my own mind years ago that if Sean came home and told me he’d had sex with someone else I wouldn’t dump him or punish him. If it happened everyday or every week, things might be different.

I think there are plenty of gay couples who don’t want to declare themselves to be in an open-relationship. They want to be monogamous, or at least mostly monogamous. The later describes Sean and I. Maybe that’ll be the way things are for Nick the day after he runs into Miss Hot Tits in Bali.

Thanks for the shits and giggles, Nick. Oh, and for the haircut too!

Brent.

The cushion

2010-08-24T05:29:00.000-07:00

My descent into madness was not slow or gradual. It happened all in one day. A work project made crack. With my head about to explode I skipped out on what I was supposed to do and went for a long walk, treated myself to lunch, then went home and masturbated.

Not wanting to pass along my work woes to Sean, I dusted off my old meditation cushion and sat for a good half-hour before he came home.

Hello my name is Brent and I used to be a bliss-oholic. Like a real addict, you’d find me perusing yoga studios and Buddhist shrines in a neighbourhood near you. For the good part of 2007, I had a perma-smile and flexible hip abductors. I was a step away from vegetarianism and a G.I. Jane haircut.

Then I moved to Australia. Phase over.

Sean liked the blissed-out Brent. I liked the blissed-out Brent too. He was a nice guy – may he rest in peace. So I’m thinking about getting my mojo back. I don’t want to fall into the trap of getting too caught up in my job and the unhealthy ego that usually follows those in my field. And I don’t want to be a bitchy partner.

So bring on the cushion, incense, and full lotus pose! Not to worry, I will never give up my love of sausage.

Enlightened Brent.

Welcome to the Family?

2010-08-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

‘Remember to say hi to Sean for me.’

That’s how my Mom ends our weekly phone calls. She adores Sean. When I came out to my parents – some ten years ago – I never thought I’d live to see the day Mom would be passing along messages to my ‘homosexual lover.’

Don’t get me wrong. If Mom had a choice, she’d have me married to a nice white Mormon girl from Utah. We’d have at least four children and a mini-van. But I think she’s finally figured out being gay isn’t something I’m going to change my mind about – ever.

When I introduced Sean to my parents they were nervous. They’d never met my previous partner. They were quite surprised that Sean didn’t match their skewed assumptions about gay men. Sean impressed them for the same reasons he impressed me … although I hope Mom (nor Dad) didn’t get turned-on in quite the same way.

A week after they met him, my parents ringed to say that though they disagreed with my choice to live a ‘gay lifestyle,’ they thought Sean was a decent guy. It was their convoluted way of saying ‘we like this guy – hang onto him’ (you have to read between the lines in my family).

And hat’s off especially to Mom. Last month when I was visiting, I told her I’d had problems in my relationship and she didn’t jump on the opportunity to convince me to go straight. She told me to work at it. No relationship is easy. They require effort. Her comment was no great pearl of wisdom, yet coming from her it meant a lot.

Having even a small amount of family support in a gay relationship can do wonders, I reckon. That’s why I get so angry about religious and cultural groups who chastise their gay children. So angry that if I started writing about it now I’d fill pages and I’m too exhausted for that rant tonight.

I’m glad my parents have changed. Perhaps they’ll never fully embrace my relationship like those of my straight siblings, but progress is progress.

The Good Doctor

2010-08-20T03:51:00.000-07:00

For the second time this week, I woke up to the smell of burnt toast. Apparently Sean has lost his touch with the toaster. I’m a hypochondriac at the best of times, so I’ve not enjoyed starting my day with the panic I’m about to have a seizure or stroke.

‘Please tell me you just burnt toast?’

(That’s me being a drama queen)

‘I didn’t make toast. Oh my God! Your head’s about to explode! I’ll dial triple zero.’

(That’s Sean being a sarcastic bitch)

Sean’s been great about seeing me through my worst hypochondriac moments. He's been the first partner to come with me for those nerve-racking HIV/STI test results, the first partner to humour me when I tell him I’ve got cancer disguised as a runny nose.

I’ve had knee problems lately because I’ve decided it’s important to squat 200% my body weight twice a week. Typical ‘me’ behaviour, I’ve worried this isn’t an injury at all but a symptom of a fatal disease. Sean had a look at my knee tonight and said it looks swollen. Then he asked if I wanted him to amputate (we've got a great knife set).

Sometimes when I go into a panic about the latest plague to inflict my body, I appreciate Sean pulling me back into reality. With gentle humour, he reminds me of the previous affliction I survived. I know I can be annoying at times, so thank God I have Dr. Sean looking after me.

Sleepless in Gay Couple-dom

2010-08-18T21:04:00.000-07:00

The past two nights Sean and I have had difficulty sleeping. He’s suffering with sinus congestion, and my knee has been aching like a bitch. We tossed and turned and fussed all night.

Isn’t this why we have a spare room?

At one point, I got up to leave and Sean asked where I was going. I said the spare room. He told me to stay in bed with him.

It was cute and endearing. So I swallowed a few paracetamol tablets and went back to bed.

It’s funny that not too long ago, I posted an entry, ‘The Spare Room.’ I discussed my need to sleep alone every now and then. Lately I’ve been finding little reason or desire to do so. An interesting shift, I reckon.

Still, I really need to have a good sleep tonight or else I’m going to start acting MORE crazy during the day.

I think it’s time Sean and I make an investment into our sleepytime future and buy a King size mattress for Christmas. One of those giant bad-ass mothers you can jump on one side and the other doesn’t move. Let’s hope the advertisements are as good as the real thing.

ZZzzz.

Sleepy Brent

In the Trenches

2010-08-17T04:27:00.000-07:00

After my posting last night, I scurried around the house like Rosie the robot maid on steroids. I wanted the bedroom to be neat, tidy and romantically lit. My goal was to be washed, brushed, shaved and laying in bed with a book before Sean came home. He came in much later than expected and I’d nearly fallen asleep. As he came in, I thought about canceling the whole operation but decided it would be in the best interest of my relationship to follow through.

Sean sensed the mood immediately. I massaged his shoulders which lead to sex – though no new positions or roles. Dealing with his garlic breath was a bit of a curve-ball, but I improvised.

I won’t share more details because I don’t write gay erotica.

Afterwards we talked a bit about why we’ve been in sexual deadlock for so long. He told me he’s nervous that things might go sour again in the relationship. I told him that I’m bored with the usual sex roles. Both concerns are legitimate. But if I show consistency, I’m sure he’ll relax a bit more and perhaps be more interested in doing the things that turn me on.

It’s work. It always is. The ‘romance’ period of my Making it Work mantra has cooled and now I’m in the trenches doing what needs to be done. There’s dirt in trenches … and lots of it. But I still stand by my cause.

Brent :)

Little Steps

2010-08-16T04:38:00.000-07:00

One of my readers posted some great advice about yesterday’s sexual frustration. Thank you, Mann for your comment. Sometimes we develop ‘blind spots’ in our sex lives and blame our partner for our dissatisfaction.

So is Mann correct? Is my blind spot simply I’m a ‘shit top?’ (by the way, Mann, using the word shit in a sentence about anal sex makes me nervous)

I’ve definitely been slack about getting Sean to loose-up before riding the stallion (i.e. Me). I haven’t been rough or macho when I’ve fucked him, but I haven’t done my best to be encouraging and patient.

Most of Mann’s suggestions had to do with pre-fucking operations. The problem is, Sean and I have been really lazy about the making-out stuff. For example, the last time we had anal sex (months and months ago), I literally lubed myself up and got into ‘fuck me’ position, then called Sean upstairs. And although this probably sounds a bit kinky, it wasn’t.

Sean has said many times I’m not much of a romancer when it comes to sex. He likes all the making-out stuff as much as the orgasm. So if I want to explore sex in new positions, I’m going to have to seduce Sean. I have to turn him on with touching, kissing, and gentleness. I learned this about my partner a loooong time ago.

On the flip side, I’m often the opposite. If Sean rung me right now and said he’s coming home to screw me, I’d be totally turned on. I can go without the foreplay in exchange for some wild animal sex. Sean knows this about me. So we both know which buttons to push in order to get the other going, but neither of us is pressing them.

I’m sure a lot of this has to do with the fact that not too long ago things weren’t looking so great between the two of us. And although we’ve both agreed we want to stay together, I do believe there is still some reluctance to go the extra mile.

There’ll be no quick fixes.

But here’s the deal. I’m going to seduce Sean tonight. I’ll push his buttons first and let you know how it goes. I won't hold any expectations that it'll lead to him down on all fours, but perhaps this is an important step in the larger picture of rejuvenating our sex life.

Damn. This bloody blog is keeping me honest!

Brent.

Stuck

2010-08-15T04:03:00.000-07:00

U2. Stuck in a Moment. A classic post-break-up, get-your-shit-together song (I love hyphens). I play the song on repeat when I’m having a shitty day or when sexually frustrated.

‘Sexually frustrated?’ You ask. ‘But you have a boyfriend!’

Sexual frustration happens IN relationships?

Understatement of the year.

Sex can be such a strange creature. Sometimes it’s the driving force of the day, and other times I couldn’t give a fuck - literally.

Today, I was horny. REALLY HORNY. Sean wasn’t home all day. But his absence wasn’t the source of my sexual frustration. Even if Sean had been home I still would have locked myself in the bedroom and jerked off to porn for a half hour. (By the way, masturbating is a non-issue in our house. I’ve walked in on Sean during a wank, and other times, I specifically tell Sean I need ‘alone time’ with my laptop).

Part of my sexual frustration today stems from an ongoing sexual dynamic (notice I’m not calling it a ‘problem’). Simply put, Sean doesn’t like to bottom. We’ve tried only a handful of times. Yet, the times I’ve experienced topping with Sean or in other relationships, I’ve felt incredibly satisfied.

What can I say? I’ve got a thing for butts. We’ve all got our sexual quirks. I’ve always had a preference for topping, yet somehow I ended up taking an almost exclusive bottoming role in this relationship (and that ‘somehow’ is worthy of a little reflection at some point).

The past year I’ve become disinterested in ‘bottoming’ for Sean. So I reckon he’s a bit sexually frustrated too at times. I’m not giving up on bottoming completely though. I’ve experienced a great deal of pleasure from bottoming … and I highly recommend it to anyone who reckons it’s not for them. I just want a little of the other side.

Nothing compares to the satisfaction I get from topping. Sean knows this and he sometimes flirts with the idea of taking one for the team. We’ve got the toys, lube, you name it. But he just doesn’t show an interest. And when I suggest it in bed, he shies away and makes excuses.

So we’ve been in sexual deadlock for some time. Most of our sex has become masturbatory – both individually and together. Some days I really get stuck on the issue and it drives me nuts. It didn’t help that I when I went to the gym today, I saw more bare athletic asses in the locker room than I’ve ever seen on Sunday.

This is not a deal breaker for me. We have such a wonderful life together and I refuse to make a big fuss over the top/bottom thing. But what should I do the next time I start feeling sexually frustrated? Listen to U2 on repeat and wank off until my dick hurts? I’d love some suggestions on this one.
Until then, I’m off to bed hoping to be un-stuck tomorrow.

Brent.

How I met Sean

2010-08-13T05:47:00.000-07:00

The story of how I met Sean sounds a bit like a Kristen Bjorn movie. I was a tight T-shirt-wearing graduate student, age 26. And I had the hots for one of my teachers - a hot Aussie guy, age 33 with an ass that brought down my grade point average.

The ‘big scandal’ about Sean and I is that we originally met in the classroom. But don’t get your hopes up, there was no bent-over-a-desk sex. No blow-job detentions. Nothing like that. I just had the hots for my professor. Shit happens.

I didn’t even realize at the time Sean was gay. In fact, one of my female classmates also had the hots for him. Maybe it was the accent, but neither of us got the gay vibe from him. It was all wishful thinking on my part.

On the last day of class (Sean only taught me one subject during my degree), I was returning some equipment to Dr. Sean’s office and he asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee.

My initial thought? He’s going to tell me I failed the subject.

We went off campus for a coffee. He talked about all the good things he’d heard about my work, papers and research. Then he asked about my situation. Was he probing to find out if I was single?

I was pretty shy because I was in shock over the fact that the guy I’d been fantasizing about for a semester was sitting across from me at a table.

After two hours of chatting, I still wasn’t fully aware I was on a date. Sean had hinted at his orientation, talking about his disdain for American social politics and marginalization of homosexuals. But I played my dumb blond card and never told him I was, in fact gay.

He suggested dinner. We ate at one of the most romantic places in the city. Nice wine, food and conversation. Was this a date? When he paid for the bill I had my answer.

After dinner Sean and I went to a local beach where he talked endlessly about local history. He was trying to bore me into kissing him, I reckon. But I didn’t budge - could I really kiss a guy that earlier that week had been marking my assignments?
It took me two more hours to finally lean into his arms. I kissed him long and hard.
That’s how it all got started.

These days I have to remind myself that Sean was once my teacher. Maybe I should channel our history for a little bedroom role-playing, but to be honest, I try not to think about him as my teacher. However, I really like it when he wears a red hooded cape.

‘Oh my,’ says Little Red Riding Sean ‘what a big penis you have!’

Actually we’re not that kinky.

Happy 5th Anniversary, Sean.

Brent.

Tight Ass

2010-08-11T04:48:00.000-07:00

He’s lost it. Gone completely off his rocker. Sean was home all day (I think he took a sickie) just so he could play with modems, phones and cables … and ring every internet/phone company in the country. Why? He’s convinced we spend too much on internet and phone.

Rather than go to all the trouble, I suggested he prostitute himself out once a month for extra cash. Maybe he’ll turn the idea around and start pimping me out? I’d consider prostitution if it meant he’d stick with a phone company for more than six months.

I had two options when I noticed him digging for old modems: 1) Get annoyed and tell him to stop being so damn cheap 2) Watch and enjoy.

Option one was not conducive to my 'making it work' mantra, so I decided to perv on his butt as he crawled under the desk. Who’d have thought watching your boyfriend plug in cables could make you horny?

When I came home from work, he still hadn’t come up with the solution, so I’m going to prostitute myself. I don’t want to see him go through this again tomorrow. Anyone know the going rate?

Maybe I’ll just give Sean $20 in exchange for a blow job.

Okay. In all seriousness, I’ve reminded myself to appreciate Sean’s dedication to our budget. If it wasn’t for his comparative shopping, we’d spend more than necessary. I’m not disciplined enough to find the best deals for phone, electricity, gas, and mortgage rates. So even though I often feel he’s overly obsessed with saving money on utility bills, I remind myself that it’s for a good cause. We enjoy a comfortable life - touch wood – and if the cost of that comfortable life is a day (or two) of nutty behaviour from Sean, so be it.

Brent

The Rings

2010-08-10T04:42:00.000-07:00

Sean and I went on our first date 12 August, 2005. So in two days, we can officially say we’ve been together five years (and thank God for that since I’m tired of rounding-up). Unlike our wedding anniversary - sometime in March - I never forget the anniversary of our first date. I guess it’s a more significant date for me – though I don’t know why.

We went out for dinner tonight to celebrate since the next two nights are looking busy. I’m not going to lie to you – it wasn’t the most romantic dinner. We talked about work, iphones, and tax returns. But hey, what were we supposed to do? Stare lustfully into each other’s eyes and play footsies under the table?

Sean did throw a surprise at me though. Right before the bill came, he reached into his pocket and pulled out our wedding bands. Last year, we fell out of the habit of wearing them.

The wedding ring has always felt too traditional for me. But I was touched by Sean’s gesture of bringing them along to dinner. We agreed that we’d start wearing them again. I think it’s a great reminder of our commitment. I’ve decided to wear mine on my left hand … after all, it is a wedding band and we ARE married.

Stay tuned for a fun and exciting homo-erotic story of how I met Sean.

☺
Brent

Validation

2010-08-09T04:35:00.000-07:00

Remember Abbey? The mutual friend of Sean and mine who got caught up in our relationship dramas a few months back? Well, we were invited to her place for dinner tonight. It was the first time the three of us have been together in a long time.

Being the busy boys we are, Sean and I arrived in separate cars. Sean left shortly after dinner and I stayed to help Abbey with the dishes.

‘You boys look happy. It was great to see you flirting with each other again,’ she said.

It was the second time a friend had commented on ‘how happy we look.’ And it’s true. I AM feeling really content with how things are going. I guess I didn’t realize how stressed-out I actually was when things were rough-going. I’m glad things have improved to the point that friends are noticing a change in us.

Even though Abbey and I no longer discuss the particulars of my marriage, I entertained the conversation for a few moments. Getting positive feedback about your relationship is something worth reveling for a moment or two. It validates all the effort I’ve put into Making it Work.

Of course, the real validation comes from the fact I live with Sean and we’re still in love. But let’s face it, it’s nice to hear you’re on the right track from the people who know you best.

Brent.

Six Feet Under Therapy

2010-08-08T04:21:00.000-07:00

My favourite television series of all time is HBO’s Six Feet Under. With its dark themes and confronting honesty, it’s not a show for everyone. Especially not for those after some light entertainment and a couple of laughs.

I bought all five seasons on DVD and have been through them a few times. I recently watched the pilot episode with my friend, Sam who hasn’t seen much of the show. Sam is facing some challenging times ahead as he struggles to live his life as a gay man while maintaining close ties with family and co-workers who do not accept homosexuality for religious reasons.

I’ve prescribed a dosage of Six Feet Under for Sam because it’s a show about family, relationships and the struggle we all face discovering our life’s path in the face of that unavoidable truth: life is not permanent.

If Sam decides to watch more of the series (I strategically left them at his place), I suspect he will relate to the David Fisher character. Like Sam, David Fisher always seems caught between doing what’s best for himself and what’s best for his family and career. Being gay adds another dimension of difficultly.

I read the following on Wikipedia:

“Six Feet Under creator, Alan Ball said ‘I'm like David in that for years I tried to do everything right, as if that would some way redeem me.’ When he first conceived the characters, in one interview [Ball] said, ‘David was just always gay. He was the brother who was “the best little boy in the world” who did everything to please everybody, and that's such a classic gay thing.’

Sam’s admitted many times he wants to make his family happy. He’s even considered marriage – to a woman. His rationale? Stable family relationships, kids, and a ‘normal’ home life. My high-school friend did exactly that – after coming-out to me, he got engaged. The last I heard he’s still married to his wife and has two kids.

I’ve threatened to crash Sam’s wedding if he ever decides to marry straight. I wouldn’t do such a thing unless I was convinced he was 100% gay. And believe me, readers, he’s just as gay as me. And that’s pretty gay.

I want more than anything for Sam to come out to his family. I want him to experience a romantic relationship not kept in secret. He’s told me he’ll come-out to his family once it’s necessary – meaning once he’s in a committed relationship. Until then he doesn’t see the point.

This sounds familiar to me. I didn’t come-out to my parents until after I’d been in a gay relationship for six months. I needed the ammunition of being able to say ‘I’ve had a boyfriend for six months. See? Being gay isn’t just about sex. It’s about commitment too.’

But the argument did little in proving my point to Mom and Dad. And the funny thing? After I used this ammunition on them, my boyfriend and I broke up.

Vicariously Sam knows the realities of being in a gay relationship from what he’s witnessed from his friend’s relationships. He’s seen mine in the toilet and on the mend, he’s seen a few couples stay together long term, and he’s seen dozens of relationships end.

I know he’s a bit apprehensive about gay relationships and that’s understandable. To embrace life as a gay person he will probably have to experience a few heart-breaks.
Maybe that’s why Sam still flirts with the idea of a religious marriage-of- convenience to a woman. But I just want him to know that happiness can be found in gay relationships in the absence or presence of family support.

You just have to be careful of how you define happiness. That’s another reason why I’ve prescribed some Six Feet Under therapy for Sam. Because if there was ever a realistic portrayal of a gay couple in a television series, it’s Six Feet Under’s David and Keith.

Why? (don’t read this next bit if you don’t want to know what happens)

They deal with coming-out issues
They break-up
They get back together
They try an open relationship
They try monogamy
They go to counseling
They fight
They have great sex
They struggle to make it work
They forgive each other
They struggle to make a home in a world where gay couples are not always supported and viewed with equality to straight ones
They realize they are, in fact, the ideal partners for each other
They love each other despite all of the above.

And here’s my theory: I reckon straight couples go through exactly the same shit, but honor, pride and keeping-up-appearances keeps them in-the-closet about it. I believe gay men are just more open and honest about what actually happens in their relationships with each other.

On the whole, Sam’s family will be happy if he marries a nice girl. Things will look pretty on the surface, but there’ll be just as much turmoil for Sam as being in a gay relationship. But if he’s out and open about who he is, at least he’ll have us to fall back on. Gay friends that’ll talk openly and candidly about love and relationships in a very gay way.

Boys in Cars

2010-08-06T22:04:00.000-07:00

“There is only one social phenomenon that spans the entire twentieth century, only one line on the chart that truly correlates with divorce rates. Automobile ownership.”

Dan Savage in The Commitment

I’m with ya, Dan. Sharing a vehicle with your partner is never a good idea if you value the stability of your relationship. Sean and I shared a car for nearly a year. IT SUCKED. But now that we have our own cars, we still fall victim to CRRS (Couple’s Road Rage Syndrome) when we travel in the same vehicle.

I noticed the problem the very first time he was a passenger in my car. He’d get dizzy and nauseas and have to blast the air-conditioning on himself – even in Canadian winter. Then, of course, he’d make the usual back-seat-driver comments, badly disguised as friendly suggestions:

What Sean said:
‘I prefer driving in the other lane this stretch of road.’
What Sean meant:
‘You’re driving in the wrong lane, dumb ass!’
What Sean said:
‘Oh, is there another way to the markets?’
What Sean meant:
‘You totally missed the turn. Idiot!’
What Sean said:
‘I’ve never parked here. I usually go further up.’
What Sean meant:
‘You not actually parking here, are you?

Yes. The above was a bit catty, bias and unfair. So for balance, I’ll list my driving shortcomings:
1) I’m not assertive on the road.
2) When I have a passenger in the car, non-assertiveness becomes old-lady-ish.
3) When I talk and drive, I drive slower than speed limit
4) When I have a passenger I forget where I’m going
5) I panic when people watch me park
6) I once drove on the wrong side of the road (in a confusing car park – so I think that’s excusable)

Sean is an assertive, confident, methodical driver. So when I’m his passenger I notice him doing things on the road I’d never do. On many occasions, I’ve gasped and gripped my seatbelt. Yes, that annoys him.

We just got home from a trip to the mall (with me driving). I pulled all my usual driving-with-passenger disasters and Sean pulled all his motion sickness stuff. But we didn’t get upset with each other until I was pulling into the driveway at home. He suggested I back into the driveway and then decided to coach me through it (bad idea on all accounts). It brought back those suppressed memories of driving lessons with Dad.

So when I logged on to my blog today and read the suggestion from one of my readers that I should open-up and write a passionate poem about Sean I laughed.
The poem will have to wait for another day.

But, there is always one good follow-up to a bad Saturday morning spent in the car … a Saturday afternoon of horny sex in the bedroom. So if you’ll please excuse me … I have to go now.

Vroooooom.

(that was cheesy, wasn’t it?)

Brent.

The Busy Bits

2010-08-05T04:52:00.000-07:00

Summary of the past 72 hours:

Number of meals shared with Sean: 0
Wakeful hours spent together: 3
Wakeful hours spent together watching *Supernatural: 2
(*Sean bought the box set and we’re working our way through them. The series wouldn’t be nearly as captivating if the leads weren’t so bloody HOT)
SMS’s sent to Sean: 2
SMS’s received from Sean: 2
Missed calls from Sean: 3
Number of half-awake good-bye morning kisses: 3

We’re not having a fight. We’re just busy and have opposite schedules. A friend once joked with me saying, ‘The best way to make your relationship last is to barely see each other.’

It’s true that less face time means less opportunity for conflict, but need I say it – aren’t you missing out on the good stuff too?

Missing your partner, I believe, is generally a good emotion (as long as it’s not ‘gone off to war’ yearning). Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

We both work in creative fields, so sometimes we have periods of intense busyness followed by breaks where there’s relatively little to do. Sadistically, I kind of like the busy bits best. I like the excitement of seeing each other at the end of a long day … even if it’s just to sit together and watch two cute boys on T.V. fight ghosts.

The size-difference marital clause

2010-08-04T06:36:00.000-07:00

I have a new running joke with Sean. It’s called the size-differential marital clause.

Let me explain.

I saw an absolute muscle monster at my gym today. At minimum he’d have weighed-in at 130 kgs. Pure muscle. Neck as thick as my torso. He was the real deal - a heavy-weight bodybuilder.

He was spotting his girlfriend as she did pull-ups. She looked like a feather-weight compared to him and I worried that if he put a little muscle into it she’d be torpedoed into the ceiling.

This got me thinking about size difference between romantic partners. I know a lot of guys who have very specific ideals for how big or small their partners should be. What’s my preference? I used to claim I didn’t have one because all the guys I’ve dated, including Sean, have had very different body types.

However, after spending a few minutes with a calculator this afternoon I discovered all of my partners have been no more than 2-9% taller, shorter, heavier or lighter than I. Maybe all other guys went under my radar? And I thought I was open minded!

So now that I’ve decided to embrace this simple fact, I’ve informed Sean – jokingly – that if his height or weight should grow or shrink beyond a 9% differential, we’ll get divorced. He said the same goes both ways. Gotta love the cheeky bastard.

So here’s an idea for all you iPhone lovers. Design an application that will calculate size difference (as a percentage) between you and your date/partner. I’m sure it would be a hit on first dates.

Maybe not.

Brent

P.S. What do you guys think of the gay couple in Modern Family? I've only seen one episode so I haven't formed an opinion ... but I think one is brewing.

Housewife

2010-08-02T21:57:00.000-07:00

Is anyone familiar with the music of singer/songwriter Jay Brannan? I bought his album on iTunes sometime last year. I play it anytime I’m in the mood for some acoustic gay folk (is that a genre?). The last time I listened to the album was right before I went through airport security in Los Angeles airport. I put my iPod in the x-ray tray and when I was collecting it on the other end, a guard picked up my iPod and turned it on.

‘Housewife?’ he asked. ‘What kind of music is that?’

I chickened-out on my opportunity to enlighten him on acoustic gay folk. I just told him Jay Brannan was a folk singer. The guard relaxed, then wanted to talk about folk music for real. Who was my favourite singer? Had I heard of so-and-so? I thought he was never going to let me go. It was a strange moment. I’ve never been asked about my tastes in music in airport security … especially not in LAX – the most unfriendly airport on the planet.

Maybe the guard was just one of those butch, straight-acting gay guys having a little fun with me. Actually, I doubt it. I would have loved to have seen his reaction when he went home that night and checked out Jay Brannan online. I hope his girlfriend checks his browser history!

Anyway, Housewife is one of my favourite tracks on the album. I love Brannan’s reasoning … what’s wrong with wanting to play the traditional wife role in your gay relationship?

I like role-division in a home. It just makes things easier. Modern couples - gay or straight - live in a society where distinct divisions are no longer generally agreed upon nor accepted. I think this is a good thing because it requires us to come up with creative solutions to the who-does-what question in the home. I like the fact that most contemporary couples have the option of defining their roles in the house whichever way they want.

When I first moved to Australia, I was unemployed for a few months so I played ‘housewife’ while I searched for employment. I used to pack lunches for Sean, iron his work shirts, fold the laundry, make the bed, take the dog for a walk – you name it.

In the process, I discovered things I liked about the traditional housewife role – laundry, doing the dishes, home organization, and occasional vacuuming. But there were things I really hated as well – the ironing, the cooking, dusting, cleaning bathrooms … and fear my career was in a gradual state of atrophy.

When I started getting busy with work, I continued to do all the household stuff I liked, and Sean did the same – thank God he loves to cook. Of course there are a few things we both hate doing, so we trade off on those duties.

Both Sean and I were raised in homes where Dad was the bread-winner and Mom stayed at home doing housework and child rearing. Neither of us would enjoy taking either role exclusively (as I discovered for myself). I’m glad we both have our own work and that there also aspects of housework we both enjoy. Sean and I are very different from our fathers whom we’ve never witnessed holding a vaccum or feather duster.

Role division can be challenging at times, but so far we’ve got a pretty good system running. One day I’d like to have a cleaner come in to do the stuff we hate. That’ll be my expense to manage. I'm thinking hot naked maid???

Still, I admire guys who are bold enough to come out of the closet as ‘housewives.’ I think there are a lot of them out there. And why not? There’s nothing wrong with it. I just think it needs a better title … ‘househusband’ seems like the obvious, but it needs a gay twist. Any suggestions?

Happy cooking and cleaning to all you gay house_____s out there.

Brent.

Good News

2010-08-02T04:11:00.000-07:00

I saw my friend Bryan today. He dropped in on me this afternoon wondering if I had time for coffee. I was quite eager to catch up with him because he’s just returned from a first vacation with his boyfriend, Chris.

I barely know Bryan’s boyfriend even they’ve been dating ten months. But so far, I’ve been impressed by Chris every time we’ve socialized.

Before they left for vacation, Bryan told me he was nervous about the trip. He’d never traveled with a boyfriend before and he was apprehensive about spending four weeks together. Up until the time they left, the longest amount of time they’d spent together continuously was three days.

The good news is that the trip didn’t bring about any big surprises or revelations. Except one – they realized they want to move-in together in the near future.
My reaction was a bit like Charlotte from Sex in the City when finding out one of her best friends is getting married. Actually it was nothing like that – I was just really excited Bryan and Chris are thinking about moving-in together.

Bryan and Chris are first boyfriends to each other. Neither of them have been in a long-term gay relationship before. The lucky bastards are still in their 20’s.

Here’s where I want to draw a point. After I moved in with my first boyfriend, every new gay guy that we met socially tried to convince us that because it was a first relationship, it would never work. I was a bit vulnerable to the opinions of others at the time. I let a lot of guys convince me that I needed to pay my dues as a single before I could do a committed relationship. My first boyfriend was the first guy I’d had sex with, and when guys found this out, they told me I needed to have lots of sex before I could figure out what I wanted.

My first boyfriend and I are fully responsible for our eventual break-up, but I’ve always been a bit angry with my ‘community’ – especially the older males – who were constantly feeding ideas into our heads about why we shouldn’t be with each other. And the more I heard this message, the more curious I became about sex with other people. And guess who were the ones offering us sex? That’s right, the same guys trying to convince us we shouldn’t be monogamous or committed because we were too young and naïve.

Sometimes I wonder if the relationship would have lasted had we had a better support team of gay men who weren’t out to sabotage our relationship.

I believe there are lots of guys who support each other in their relationships, but when being in a relationship removes the couple physically from the scene (as it does in many cases) couples often feel isolated from each other. I’d argue many of us don’t get the social support from our peers. But maybe I’m bias, or maybe I haven’t met enough like-minded people.

I suggested to Bryan that he brings Chris around to our place more often so that the four of us can get to know each other better. He seemed keen. My motivation – though I didn’t disclose this – is that I want Bryan and Chris to have another gay couple that acknowledge and support their relationship. Even though I wonder if Bryan and Chris WILL in fact work out – that is not for me to say, or determine. All I can do is support them, especially because they are kind to each other and the relationship seems genuine.

Even though this is an anonymous blog, I just want to welcome home Bryan and Chris from vacation and wish them many happy-moving-in-together-conversations.

Brent

(500) Days of Summer

2010-08-01T03:41:00.000-07:00

I have a new favourite movie - (500) Days of Summer. And, no surprises here, it’s a film about falling in love.

I recommend the film for those of you who ponder questions of fate and coincidence when falling in love. The two main characters hold opposing beliefs on the matter. Joesph Gordon-Levitt’s character (whom, I reckon is looking pretty hot) believes in soul mates and true love. The female lead, played by Zooey Deschanel, does not.
I won’t summarize the plot in case you haven’t seen it. I liked the film because it challenged my thinking about falling in love. Over the years, I’ve had vacillating opinions about whether fate or coincidence introduced me to the men I’ve fallen in love with.

The guys I’ve fallen for have always entered my life in such curious ways I’ve often thought fate brought us together. I thought I’d met ‘the one.’ The trouble is, I’ve had multiple ‘the ones.’

The fact I’ve fallen in love with numerous guys over the years has ruled out the one-true-love theory for me.

I’ll expose myself a bit here. Last year, my biggest challenge was sorting out whether staying with a partner and making it work was, in fact worth it. I began thinking that if a relationship had to be worked at every day, then maybe I wasn’t with the right guy.

I bought a book called Are you the one for me by Barbara De Angelis. I’ve since trashed the book. It sucked royally and I wanted to strangle the obnoxious author from beginning to end. But, she had good points. Getting caught-up on the ‘is there a “one” for me’ question can really fuck with your head. You end up in a perpetual dating cycle thinking ‘he’s not the one,’ or ‘he might be the one,’ or you constantly question whether the person you’re with is actually ‘the one.’ Those who think they’ve found their true love will suffer when they get dumped by him/her and refuse to let go. Then they become crazy stalkers.

I’ve since learned to say, ‘who gives a fuck?’ I’m with Sean now. He treats me amazingly. We get along, we love each other, we’re not beating each other up or emotionally abusing each other. So worrying about whether he’s ‘the one’ has become irrelevant.

We’re either going to break-up or stay together. I’ve realized that is a choice. And since he and I have both made the same choice to stay together, it’s working. And I do believe that the more years we spend working on it, the less likely it will be that we’ll separate. (I hope I didn’t just jinx the future by writing that).

But even if Sean walked out on me five years from today, I believe there’ll be other opportunities to experience love. I’m a relationship optimist. Oh my God, did I just say that? I sound like Julia Gillard: ‘Well, Kerry, I've described myself as an optimist and describing myself as an optimist I'm gonna say … ‘

But I’ve digressed. Watch (500) Days of Summer and tell me what you thought of it.

Brent.

Extinguishing Minor Disputes

2010-07-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

Sean and I had a minor dispute this morning.

It happened before I’d had morning coffee, so I was a half-conscious vertical- standing creature at the time. Sean had already had his morning jolt of caffeine and was on the internet looking at mobile phone plans – as normal people do on Friday mornings?

Sean starts asking me about my current mobile phone plan.

Before I go any further, I should give you a little aside about my relationship with mobile phones. I murdered three last year. The first one (a flip) got decapitated after being dropped on a dance floor. The second phone was drowned in a rock pool. The third phone got smashed on the concrete driveway when I was trying to carry too many things into the house.

Needless to say, every phone I purchase is under $40, and I only buy pre-paid packages. I hate all the post-paid jargon designed to confuse people and steal their money. Yes, this makes me sound like a bitter old lady.

Sean is the opposite. He has an iphone and an assortment of Macintosh toys. He’s constantly on the look-out for better phone plans, better internet deals, the electricity and gas companies with the most competitive rates, and banks without service fees.

It drives me nuts.

… Back to this morning. Sean starts telling me how I should switch to a post-paid plan. I say, ‘No thanks’ (subtext: Drop it, Sean). Sean then starts asking about how often I top up, and which pre-paid package I normal buy, etc. I respond with, ‘I’m not interested in switching plans, Sean’ (subtext: It’s best that you shut up now).

Sean doesn’t drop it. He starts trying to convince me of all the advantages of a post-paid plan. He starts to act like a pushy sales Telstra salesperson. I get annoyed. ‘No! Stop bugging me about it! Do something else … like read the newspaper.’

Sean got pissed off that I’d ‘snapped’ at him and walked out of the room.

God, I love him, but sometimes he just doesn’t back down until you get really firm … and then he acts surprised as if you yelled at him for no reason.

I make myself a coffee. My brain starts to function. Sean’s having a shower. I don’t want us to be mad at each other over something so stupid. So I wait until he’s out of the shower, then I go upstairs and start acting cute, playful and cuddly. The regular things you do/say to your boyfriend that make him laugh – the stuff you wouldn’t dare do in the presence of other people. It works every time. Thank God, he’s quick to forgive.

I calmly explain my position about bloody phones. Then, he comes out with the real motivation behind trying to get me on post-paid. He wants a new iphone and wants to pawn the old one off on me. I sweetly reminded him of my 'Grandmother approach' to mobile phone technology. I only use my phone for phone calls (go figure!). And I’m not to be trusted with an expensive iphone, one that he’d be better off selling on ebay.

Problem solved.

I think I’m getting better at conflict resolution with Sean … little spats like this used to happen all the time, but I never took initiate to resolve them right away. I think it was the accumulation of unresolved petty disagreements like this one that lead to bigger problems last year. I think I might be on to something here!

Brent.

Friends with the Ex?

2010-07-29T05:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I did something I only do on rare occasion. I opened a cookbook. Sean’s the master chef of our house, so I usually stay out of his way in the kitchen. But yesterday I went in search of a recipe (I was in a creative mood). When I opened one of Sean’s cookbooks I came across an inscription in the front cover:

Sean,
Here’s to two years of love and friendship.

xoxo
Liam.

I have no problem with gifts from ex-boyfriends laying around the house. I’ve got a few past-relationship momentos of my own: a sleeping bag, a few t-shirts and a book of Edgar Allen Poe stories, to name a few.

Reading the cookbook inscription made me really sad because Sean and Liam are no longer on speaking terms. After their break-up (8 or 9 years ago), they stayed in touch for a few years, but when I came into the picture, Liam became very combative with Sean.

I was sad for Sean, because I think he was quite hurt that Liam had to completely axe him out of his life. This is a huge contrast to the relationships I have with my two ex-boyfriends. I stay in touch with them on Facebook, and usually have coffee with them once a year (visits would be more frequent if they didn’t live on the other side of the world).

I value my friendships with my ex’s. They are an in-disposable part of my story.
It seems strange to me that some people can cut their ex’s out of their lives completely and forever – unless, of course, the relationship was violent and abusive.

Liam seems pretty determined to keep Sean out. We bumped into him at a bar in Newtown last year, and he said something really rude to Sean like, ‘of all the people you don’t want to see, that’s who you run into.’ Sean was hurt by it and although I felt like pulling out my protective boyfriend claws, I said nothing. It’s their relationship to mend.

But maybe I’m the one with the strange thinking about this issue. My best friend once asked me if my ex’s ever initiate contact. His question made me realize I’ve been the one keeping the friendships active. My ex’s are never the first to write, they just reply. But is it begrudgingly?

Is there a point in staying in touch with the ex’s? I have this romanticized idea that past loves should always remain close. The notion stems from an article I read once that claimed (for gay men) enduring friendships usually were, at one point, romantic or sexual. I’ve talked to a lot of gay guys who say they used to sleep with the person who is now their platonic best friend.

This query isn’t something keeping me up at night, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about recently. I’m curious to know what others think about maintaining friendships with the ex’s.

Brent

The Spare Room

2010-07-27T19:41:00.001-07:00

One of the perks of living in a two bedroom house is having a spare room. Although the spare room is currently made to look like a guestroom, it is anything but. If you look under the bed and open the closet door, you’ll notice someone lives there.

The spare room is my little private space and piece of relationship independence.
I made a conquest of the spare room shortly after we moved in. Our house is less than ten years old, yet whoever designed it did so without considering metro-sexuals and most women. Meaning, the closet space in the master bedroom is simply too small for two.

So after a bad attempt at master-bedroom cohabitation, most of my personal items now live in the spare room.

There’s another layer to this.

Last year, during a rough patch I started sleeping in the other room. No, not to be closer to my underwear and socks, but because of some unresolved relationship conflicts.

Now that those issues have been resolved, I’m back to sleeping with Sean in the master-bedroom. But the master doesn’t really feel like my bedroom anymore. I reckon when you gut a room of your personal items, it doesn’t feel quite like yours, even if you spend eight hours a day there.

Last night I slept in the spare room for the first time since Sean and I came to a reconciliation. It was nice to sleep there again, like the familiarity of coming home. The reason I slept there was because I’ve come down with a bit of a cold/flu and there’s nothing more agitating than trying to sleep with someone else when you’re sick.

I realized I want to have the option of sleeping in the spare room without any particular reason. I do enjoy waking up on my own every now and then, even though I’m in a committed relationship.

I guess I’ll just have to be careful to keep the number of nights I spend in the spare room within reason. Sleeping in the same bed as your spouse is symbolic. There’s really nothing practical about sharing a bed. I know this from listening to couples bitch about their partner’s sleeping habits at dinner parties. ‘He farts,’ ‘She snores,’ ‘He grinds his teeth.’

At one point I wondered why couples sleep together at all. However, having recently come back to the ‘martial bed,’ I understand that it symbolizes our bond and commitment.

Still, a few nights on my own (even if I’m not sick) will do me good. I guess this all boils down to that ‘C’ word. I’ll need to communicate to Sean my need to have some nights in my own little nocturnal universe. I’ll need to reassure him that it doesn’t mean I’m angry or that I plan on sneaking a boy in through the window in the middle of the night ... as entertaining as that would be.

Well, since I have an excuse with this cold/flu, I’m going to go take a nap now in the spare room and enjoy it for all it’s worth.

Brent.

The Commitment

2010-07-26T18:05:00.000-07:00

Dan Savage is my hero. If you don’t know Dan, I recommend you read his advice column ‘Savage Love,’ and download his podcasts. There’s no topic Dan doesn’t shy away from – whether it’s embracing a fetish, how to approach your partner about having a threesome, or marriage and raising kids.

Dan’s also written several books, including The Commitment which I read about a month ago. I came across it at the Bookshop Darlinghurst and bought it expecting a good laugh. Dan writes instinctively with humour, but I found the content to be of the upmost seriousness and it changed my thinking on many levels.

The book is part memoir, part essay on gay marriage. Dan writes about the dilemma he and his partner Terry faced in whether they should get married prior to their ten year anniversary party. Their six-year-old adoptive son D.J. is opposed his Daddies getting married because, ‘Boys don’t marry boys.' As their anniversary party approaches, Dan discusses both sides of the heated debate about gay marriage.

I know so many gay guys who roll their eyes at discussions of gay marriage. I was once one of those guys. I used to say things like: ‘I don’t want to get married because that’s what straight people do.’ I applauded the television screen when Brian Kinney from QAF said, ‘We're queer. We don't need marriage. We don't need the sanction of dick-less politicians and pederast priests. We fuck who we want to, when we want to. That is our God-given right.‘

I even used to think gay guys fought for marriage just because it was something to fight about. I suspected most marriage-equality activists wouldn’t actually marry if given the right.

If you’ve thought any of these things, I suggest you read The Commitment. It’s not a book that will force you to agree with gay marriage, but it certainly defines the arguments in a unique way. Rather than paraphrase one of his main points, have a look at the author’s clip:

I married Sean back in 2007. I am a Canadian citizen, so we married legally. At the time I got married I believed I was doing it for right reasons. Sean was the person I envisioned myself staying with for life, and I wanted to exercise the right to marry.

A few years later I started to question my reasons for getting married. Was I trying to prove something to my Mormon family and their right-winged conservative views? Was I being the attention-seeking kid riding a bicycle with no hands, ‘Look Mom and Dad! I can marry a man!’

Dan addresses this issue also. He was raised in an Irish Catholic family where marriage, family, and children were of the upmost importance. Dan makes no apology for wanting the same things in his life even though he’s gay. It was refreshing to hear a gay guy be so unapologetic about wanting a long-term commitment and family.

Whether we like it or not, there is wisdom in forming life-long partnerships. My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles all stuck it out in their marriages. And having this modeled to me all my life, it’s no wonder I want the same for myself. And I have it! I’m married and share a life with Sean. Kids aren’t for us, but a puppy might be on the way …

Dan Savage’s book really boosted my own sense of commitment to Sean. It also helped me formulate a strong, unashamed position on the gay marriage debate. When Australia joins the ranks of Spain, Argentina and Canada in it’s legislation on marriage-equality, I’ll remarry Sean (the Aussie way) proudly without hesitation.

Scrabble? Really?

2010-07-25T19:16:00.000-07:00

Picture this: It’s a sunny, cool Sunday afternoon. Every gay guy in the country is out shopping, having brunch, or hanging out with friends (don’t assault me for this blatant generalization – it’s just for effect). But somewhere out in Un-gay Suburb Land, two homosexuals – Sean and Brent – sit at their kitchen table playing Scrabble.

What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

Nothing! Look, Australian winters are short. So why not take the opportunity to bunker-in on a cool day? Before long we’ll be out on the deck, going to the beach and attending parties. There’s nothing wrong with killing a little weekend time playing a board game. Even if it is a bit ‘retirement village’ of us, and the thought of it makes circuit boys everywhere shudder and scramble for their tablets.

Sean and I had never actually played Scrabble together. I hate board games. I think they’re a perpetual waste of time. We don’t even own any – until yesterday when Sean brought the game home from Myers with a proud look on his face.

I have to hand it to him – Sean is an eager-to-please partner. I’d recently mentioned I was a Scrabble virgin. ‘Would I like to try it sometime?’ he’d asked. I said yes, not realizing he’d arrive home the next afternoon with the game under his arm. Maybe he’d been waiting for this rare opportunity - for me to agree to play something as silly and time-wasting as Scrabble.

But what activity isn’t silly and time-wasting on a Sunday afternoon? Had we not played the game, I probably would have alphabetized the DVD shelf, trimmed my nose hair, or maybe ironed pillowcases.

I’m a pretty routine-oriented, organized person when it comes to my time. Fortunately I have a job that allows me to stop completely on the weekends. But it’s funny how even on weekends I sometimes feel this nagging sense that I have to be doing something productive. So playing Scrabble, even in my leisure time, is never high on the agenda.

But I actually had fun. Sean kicked my ass – but he had an advantage. Unbeknownst to me, Sean plays Scrabble on his iphone with a couple of friends. And here I thought he was reading e-books all this time. The secrets boyfriends keep!

My point: if you’re one of those guys like me who feels compelled to be time- productive, try doing something ridiculously time-wasting with your partner. If Scrabble doesn’t work for you, try Monopoly, or maybe something sexy like … Jenga? For me, it was relationship-affirming to just sit and waste time with my boyfriend.

Gym Shower Jerk-offs

2010-07-24T04:50:00.000-07:00

When I started writing this blog I promised myself I’d be brutally honest about the realities of being in a long-term committed relationship. I didn’t want to fictionalize my life with Sean for the better or worse. My intention was to reflect on real experiences and discuss them candidly.

So … I want to talk about gym-shower jerk-offs. How’s that for candid?

I went to the gym today. Like a typical Saturday afternoon, the place wasn’t busy. It didn’t take me long to get through my shoulder work-out so I decided to do twenty minutes on the treadmill (to burn off the pizza calories consumed last night). I was about ten minutes into my run when Mr. Cute Rugby Guy appeared on the treadmill next to mine. I knew right away I was being cruised.

Gym memberships have been a mainstay of my adult life, so I’ve seen my fair share of cruisers. Typically, they’re the guys who stare at you through the mirrors as you do your sets. Prolonged eye contact is their game and sometimes they can be uncannily shameless about checking you out. They ‘coincidently’ finish their workout at the same time as you, and sneak glances as you drop your gear in the locker room. Sometimes the cruisey-types follow you into the steam room. They self-massage excessively and stare, stare, stare some more. They shower in the back stall and leave the door open.

Okay, maybe I know a little too much. I won’t lie to you. On occasion, I’ve been cruised by a hottie and accepted their non-verbal invite for a little mutual masturbation.

How does this figure in my relationship with Sean? From the beginning he and I agreed on monogamy. There’ll be more discussion about monogamy in future entries, but needless to say, the first few times I had a tug with some random stud, I felt incredibly guilty and unfaithful. Even though there’d been little/no physical contact with the other guy, it just didn’t seem honest.

I decided to talk about gym shower jerk-offs with Sean a couple of years ago. I told him about some the experiences I’d had and to my surprise, he actually found it all very sexy and hot. He didn’t feel threatened, but said he’d feel uncomfortable if I was actually having sex (I can’t imagine that happening at the gym anyway).

After Sean gave me his permission to indulge in the occasional peek & pull, I rarely encountered the situation. And honestly, I lost interest in it.

I think you know where this is headed.

Mr. Cute Ruby Guy finished his workout at the same time as I (no coincidence there) and followed me into the steam room. He made small talk, looked at me way too inappropriately to be straight, then wandered into the back shower stall with an over-the-shoulder glance.

I said, Why the fuck not? It’d been ages since I’ve done anything like that, so I took the shower stall across from him. He had a stiffy and was smiling at me.
But surprisingly, he rinsed off quickly and left. I thought maybe I’d been snubbed. But as I was getting dressed, he kept staring at me. Then as I was about to the leave the locker room, he gestured at his phone. He wanted to exchange numbers.

I thought about how hot it would be to fuck him, but that’s not part of my arrangement with Sean. It was tempting though - to have the option of a buddy to play with - so I fled like Cinderella on steroids. I checked over my shoulder as I entered the car park and, sure enough, the dude was right on my heels. It felt like I was running from the killer in a Scream movie. I ducked into a stairwell. Thank God, he didn’t follow.

The whole experience had me pretty horned up, so when I got home, I stripped naked and attacked Sean – who, fortunately for me, is usually available for sex. It was a pretty hot session.

Afterwards I couldn’t help but feel good about my decision to avoid exchanging numbers with Mr. Cute Ruby Guy. After I’d cum with Sean, the thought of a random fuck seemed so unappealing. However, in the moment that Mr. Cute Rugby Guy started flirting, it had felt quite the opposite. Having sex with him seemed imperative ... but I’m glad I didn’t indulge. It’s difficult to step back in moments like that and remind yourself that going home and jumping your partner is a lot less drama – well, that’s just my never-to-be-humble opinion.

Brent.

Pumping-Up

2010-07-22T16:03:00.000-07:00

I should give my ex-boyfriend a name so he’s not just remembered as the bastard who sold our dog. Ian? He doesn’t look like an Ian, but that’ll have to do for today since my creative energies are running low.

Let me tell you a bit about Ian. He and I lived together for a couple of years. We lived in a predominantly gay neighborhood, we went to a predominantly gay gym, we went to gay bars, had gay friends … everything about us was gay, gay, gay. Except for the fact we weren’t happy.

Ian had a hot body that turned heads on the street. He was a go-go dancer and a gym junky. When I met Ian I was still a young, impressionable, naïve, little homosexual in his mid-twenties. I remember looking in the mirror at myself and thinking, ‘I’m too scrawny,’ ‘I’m too pasty,’ ‘Ian’s going to dump me if I don’t fix this problem immediately.’

I bought myself a copy of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s ‘Encyclopedia of Body Building’ and joined a gym. The weight-room become my reformatory. Voyeuristically I’d watch what guys with the biggest muscles were doing and repeat it for himself. Session after session I lifted my way up, one plate at a time. Purpose was not found in work or friends. Purpose came in knowing today was a chest and triceps day, or a back and bicep one.

I often exercised to the point of near-vomit. I switched to a diet of yams, tuna, chicken breast, and protein shakes. I learned 14 different ways to do a bicep curl and perfected a one-arm dead-lift. Normality was defined as muscle soreness.
But soreness meant progress. Progress meant muscles - currency that would maintain my access to Ian’s bed.

Silly me. Ian liked me initially because I wasn’t into all the gym culture shit. So as I got bigger and leaner, Ian didn’t say much and it didn’t enhance our sex life. In fact, he shut down completely from me and started going out to bars and clubs all the time. I was never much of a clubber, so I sat at home alone most weekends sulking with my big muscles and tight glutes.

That’s when I met Sean. He was the complete opposite of Ian. He wasn’t into the gym, he never went to clubs, he lived in the suburbs (in a house!) instead of a glamorous city apartment in some urban gay alcove.

I left Ian and started to date Sean almost immediately – something I don’t recommend. The rest is our five year history.

But there’s an interesting twist here. Yesterday I got a stressed-out call from Sean. He was driving to his personal training session and was late. He was annoyed and frustrated about how he’s always running late for things now that the gym is a regular part of his life.

Hold the phone! When did Sean start becoming so obsessed with the gym? He started going only a few months ago, when things weren’t great between us. It made me wonder if a bad, karmic, gay-gym-junky’s cycle is being perpetuated: Ian motivated my body-obsession, had I motivated Sean’s?

Look. I love muscles. There’s nothing better than a hot muscle guy. But ultimately there’s got to be more to a person. I didn’t fall in love with Sean for his muscles. If he’s been working-out as an attempt to match what I’ve accomplished, I want him to stop. A muscled-up Sean is no more worthy of me than the original version I met five years ago.

So today I’m going to have a sit with Sean and talk about the gym. I want him to be reassured that I don’t expect him to morph his body into a Colt porn star for our relationship to work.

Woof!

2010-07-21T15:31:00.000-07:00

Sean and I dated for two years before moving in together. For a good portion of that time, I shared custody of Ty (a German Pinscher) with my ex-boyfriend. Ty was the most hyper dog on the planet. When it was my turn to look after the dog, I’d have to budget at least two hours of exercise time (Ty never grew tired of tennis balls). If I didn’t exercise the beast, he’d be a nuisance all day.

Sean didn’t bond with Ty for obvious reasons. Not only did Sean have preference for small lap-dogs (Ty was anything but), he also had to watch me stress-out over drop-offs and pick-ups at the ex’s place. Ty was very much a symbol of the previous relationship, and every time I had him, I joked about how much he reminded me of his (other) father.

The sad part of this story is that my ex called one day giving me an ultimatum. I either had to take Ty full-time or he was going to sell him. As a single parent of a hyper canine, I wasn’t able to do so. I lived in a bachelor suite, I worked ten hours a day, six days a week, and I was on a tight budget that made buying all those bones, treats, and tennis balls impossible.

I pleaded with my ex to continue sharing responsibilities, hoping that maybe in a year when Sean I finally moved in together, I’d be able to take Ty full-time. I’d make Sean an adoptive parent – even if a reluctant one.

But my ex sold the dog. It broke my heart.

A year later, Sean and I moved in together. We bought a comfortable two bedroom home with a yard. Ty would have been happy there. Desperate for a better experience with man’s best friend, Sean and I adopted a ten-year-old miniature Dachshund (Sean got his wish for a lapdog). She came with a name: Kate. I called her bitch.

Kate came into our lives after only a week or two of living together. Instant Family – just add dog. Kate offered daily distractions. She loved to pee on our guest’s feet at dinner parties, she’d bark incessantly during our favourite t.v. programs, and she was a real slut for cuddling.

I’ll jump ahead to the sad bit. A year ago, Kate became paralyzed. It’s a problem with the breed as they get old. Their spines are just too long for their body. Like a friend of mine once said, ‘Weiner dogs and Vaginas are God’s greatest design flaws.’

Kate lost all function of her short stubby legs when Sean was away in Thailand for business. I had to make the call. It was the hardest thing I had to do, yet I knew it was my responsibility.

Sean never got to say goodbye to Kate.

We’ve been without Kate for over a year now. Sometimes I still wonder if part of the reason why Sean and I had so many problems last year was because we didn’t know how to live without Kate’s distractions. There was so much coordination in looking after our dog. Sean and I were always calling each other about Kate. Had she been fed? When was the last time she went out? She pissed on the floor again!

She was our comic relief, our cuddle monster, and people magnet. We never had a shortage of strangers – and occasionally the hot guy – coming up to us on the streets to pet Kate and chat.

So I’m not surprised that Sean brought up the topic of getting another dog – a puppy this time. I think it would be a good idea, but I’m hesitant because the only year Sean and I have lived alone together was a bad one. I’d like to spend some happy time together before bringing an animal back into our relationship.

Sean agreed that maybe we should wait awhile. But clearly, I’m the one who holds the cards. Sean’s ready for a dog now, so the moment I say ‘let’s get one’ is the moment it’ll happen. But when’s the right time? When is your relationship ready for a dog?

No More Bitching!

2010-07-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

When Sean and I were having problems, I used to complain about him to a mutual friend. Abbey, as it turned out was playing double agent. She was also an ear for Sean’s frustrations about me.

In many ways Abbey was the more mature of the two of us. She rarely acted as the ‘go-between.’ For the most part she kept things confidential … until her relationship with Sean also started to go downhill. Abbey works with Sean on a professional level and at times she becomes very frustrated with my husband in the workplace.

Abbey’s complaints about Sean would fuel my own bitching. Sometimes Abbey and I would have coffee dates that were 95% bitching about Sean, 5% the weather.

While I was on vacation trying to make a decision about my future with Sean, Abbey sent me an email demanding information. Tension had escalated at work and Sean had stopped communicating with Abbey. She demanded information from me. She wanted to know if Sean had been saying things about her at home. Now she wanted me to be the ‘go-between.’ A role I wasn’t willing to play.

I refused to tell her anything. It really pissed her off that I wouldn’t share information. After her last email, things went silent between us for a while.
A good friend whom I was visiting on vacation works as an administrator at a large university. He told me that he often has married faculty members that come into his office to bitch about their spouse. He had to put a policy in place that he would not engage in any such conversations. He literally puts his hand up if someone starts bitching and tells them to stop.

One of the things I’d have to stop doing if I were to improve my relationship with Sean would be to stop discussing him in a negative way with Abbey. So I wrote her an email a few days before coming home from vacation:

Abbey,

Just a little heads up about something: Sean and I have come to a reconciliation while I’ve been away. We are happy about this and will be working towards strengthening our relationship. We made it through a bad year and I'm confident things are on the mend.

I have made a commitment to myself to not discuss my relationship with people who know Sean personally or professionally. I can't be doing this anymore - and as I'm sure you've noticed, I've already stopped doing so. I feel this is a positive step in the right direction.
This will be an adjustment for you and I as we move away from topics that involve Sean. But we certainly have so many other things we can do and talk about, so I'm sure this won't be too hard ...

Thanks for understanding my reasons for staying tight lipped lately about my marriage.

Brent.

Abbey responded with the following:

Hi Brent,

This is a relief to hear. I was actually going to have the same conversation with you when you got back, so you beat me to the punch :-)

It's been extremely difficult for me to be somewhat "caught in the middle" of you two for so long and it has put a strain on me. I am by no means upset or angry with you (or Sean) about this and I was really happy to help support both of you through a difficult time, and despite the crappiness of the whole thing, I think it helped you and I connect as friends.

There's no secret that I struggle with my relationship with Sean (as he struggles with his relationship with me) and hearing negativities from you about him probably doesn't help, as you hearing negativities about him from me probably doesn't help you. I think it can become a destructive cycle for both of us.

I'm glad you've come to this decision. I was a bit worried about having to talk to you about this. I think this is going to make it so much more pleasant (and less awkward) when we hang out together.

Cheers,

Abbey

P.S. Now we can move on to happier topics like music, reading, hiking, gym excursions, cute boys :-)

So not only have I embarked on a new journey with Sean, I’ve also changed the dynamics between Abbey and I. Our future coffee dates will be all about music, books, the gym (I’m a bit of gym junkie), and of course, everyone’s favourite topic – cute boys. No more bitching!

Brent.

Making it work

2010-07-20T01:45:00.001-07:00

‘Once it’s gone, it’s gone, Brent. It’s not coming back.’
That’s the advice I was given two months ago by my friend/casual-make-out-buddy Andy. No, we weren’t discussing circumcision (I know a guy who’s trying to stretch his crewneck back into a turtleneck – a topic for another time). Andy and I were discussing my romantic feelings, or lack thereof, for Sean. Sean’s been my partner for nearly five years; the man I legally married; the man I moved countries for; the one with whom I share the mortgage, electricity bills, the blender, and a growing list of grievances.

Andy and I were dining at crowded Chinese restaurant when I brought up the topic of my marriage.

‘Do you think I should rekindle things with Sean?’ I’d asked.

Andy stared at me incredulously. In his mind, I’m sure he was saying Wow, I’ve really wasted my time with you. Up until that moment, I’d given Andy the impression that my marriage was pretty much over, except for the fact I still lived with my husband. What can I say? I was pretty confused at the time.

Andy finally answered with a question of his own. Was I still attracted Sean?
I couldn’t answer immediately. He had me. No, I really wasn’t feeling the heat for Sean anymore.

‘But I used to have those feelings! They’re in there somewhere,’ I defended pointing a chopstick at my cranium.

And that’s when Andy told me that passion (like foreskin) is gone the moment it disappears. It can’t be regrown. At least that was his never-to-be-humble opinion. Then he called for the cheque.

Driving home from dinner that night I felt angry and confused. Why did my romantic life with Sean have to fizzle? Fizzled relationships are such a boring, redundant phenomenon. I’d become one of those unhappy gay guys who bitch about their marriage with make-out buddies. And yet when I met Sean, I’d thought, I’ll never fall out of love with this one. I’ll never want someone else.

I decided to get away for awhile. Away from Sean, away from casual make-out buddies and cheap Chinese food. I’d go home for a short vacation and hope for an epiphany of sorts. Would I return determined to make my relationship with Sean work and grow? Or would I take Andy’s advice that passion is a non-renewable resource and breakup?

I left for my vacation feeling doubtful I’d come to a decision about the future of my marriage. Sean and I had been having troubles for nearly a year. I’d spent endless hours thinking already. Would a vacation really offer any clarity?

Yes.

I had the epiphany. I was camping in the Rocky Mountains and I got the answer I’d hoped would come. I realized I wanted nothing more than for my marriage work. I realized my love for Sean had only grown deeper during our ‘rocky’ patch. Sorry Andy. Passion is a renewable resource.

I make it sound rather mystical that all of a sudden I had clarity about my relationship. There were tangible factors and experiences during my vacation that helped bring me to this decision. I’ll share those in future entries.

Making it work will require effort from both of us. But I’ve abandoned my previous approach in trying to make Sean see the things he’s done wrong in my eyes. Instead, I want to be more aware of my actions and behaviours and see how they affect the relationship.

In essence, I’ve decided to make it my personal daily mission to work at my marriage, for the sake of its survival.

Now would be a good time to mention that despite all of our conflict, Sean is very willing to work things out. That makes me lucky. Half the battle is already won. When I sent Sean an email after my epiphany in the Rocky Mountains saying I wanted to rekindle things, he responded enthusiastically. Then he told me he loved me. Like I said, I’m lucky to have such a willing partner.

On flight home from vacation, I decided I’d write a blog about my daily experiences and adventures in making my marriage work. My intention in writing this is two-fold:

1) It will hold me accountable and be my daily reminder that I’ve made a commitment to working things with Sean.
2) I want to communicate the daily challenges and rewards of this undertaking with other gay men in relationships. Maybe I can support and encourage others who are committed to the same goal. Maybe you can support me too.

The final comment I’ll make for this first, and giant entry is that I’ve changed my name, and the names of those involved in my story. But I promise to be open and honest about the rest.

I look forward to sharing my journey with you.

Brent.