I'm a gay man in Reno, Nevada. I started blogging to keep a record of what I've been up to away from home. My boyfriend is
an unrepentant asexual, and celibacy through monogomy isn't an option (and I was celibate with him for over a year). I'd like to be monogamous,
but it just isn't working out.
Complications
The final week of my European vacation went rather smoothly, all things considered. My boyfriend and I did end up discussing my sudden reluctance to engage with him, even though we had had the big blow-up a couple of weeks ago. He did try to make some advances, albeit half-heartedly, but I wasn't responding well to those advances. I realize my contradiction, and I spent a lot of time mulling over just what was going on.
I realize that when I haven't been intimate with my boyfriend for some time, I crave physical closeness with him, but once I get to a point where I have to make a scene to try to engage that closeness, afterwards I feel spent and a little dirty. It's as if I muddied my hands making dirt pies as a child would, and while there is great expectation and consternation getting the recipe just right, the end result is just dirt, no matter how pretty it looks. Similarly, I feel the emotional frustration of being brought to such a state of emotional turmoil. And when it's all over and we've yelled and cried and hugged and talked, I'm reminded that sex with my boyfriend is simply bad, and no matter how much crying and talking and yelling we do, it will still be bad. I don't want to go through this with him again, I don't want to hurt him, and be hurt by him.
Still, from the worst soil, things will grow if given enough love and attention. My love for him has not waned, and I do eventually come to a point where I desire him so much that I risk the argument and the misunderstanding... only to be reminded again why we are not intimate in the first place. And yet, fertile soil has still been furrowed. My boyfriend and I have moved forward toward a direction of true compromise. We have seen a doctor together, he has committed to real work. I have committed to help him through this.
I am no fool. This continues to be difficult work. I delude myself in no large way. However, I have faith that we will come to some sort of arrangement where we can find intimacy with each other. I have faith that we can discover mutually satisfying intimacy with each other. I understand faith is a form of delusion, but a delusion in which I will allow myself some solace.
Everyday we were in Rome we spent at least 7-10 hours walking, taking advantage of all the available sunlight. On day four, we enjoyed a long walk though the ancient Roman forum, where we ended up spending 9 hours simply touring and peering into the ancient ruins there. Being there, parts of which were walked over 2000 years ago, really puts the briefness of a human life into perspective. We don't have a lot of time on this world, and with what little time we do have, we should do some little bit to ensure our own happiness and that of those in our keeping. (To do so beyond is also fantastic, but I've spent my life trying to make others happy at my own expense. It's time to think a little of myself, and of my significant other.
After we made it back to our little room, we settled down to watch Marie Antoinette, which I had brought with me. We had just watched several scenes where Louis XVI spurned Marie Antoinette repeatedly during their marriage, apparently for years. Exactly at that point, at the conclusion of the scene where she tries to engage him and he shivers from her cold feet, my boyfriend's mother called. He, very upset, demanded (in French, of course) why she had called and why she was bothering us at the late hour. He concluded the call and plopped back down on the bed, telling me to continue the film as he was clearly stewing in anger over her perceived intrusion.
There was something more obviously bothering him, but we had to settle things one at a time. So I stopped the film.
"Why are you so upset?" I asked.
"I'm not upset!" He exclaimed.
"Uh huh," I was obviously unconvinced "Right. That's why you're not acting upset."
"I'm not! Why are you on my back? Why do you always defend the other person?"
I was confronted him. Acting nice in this situation would do no good. I had to get him unbalanced, otherwise he'd never allow himself to feel any other emotions other than anger, and then he'd bury that in logic, and then we'd get nowhere. "I don't always defend the other person, unless you start acting like an asshole. Why are you acting like such an asshole?"
And that got us going. For about a half an hour, we volleyed back and forth until we were both spinning in circles. This was getting us nowhere. I pulled my last resort card. "I'm ready to get up and walk out this door right now. I don't want to do that. However, if we can talk reasonably about this, then I will stay."
I really did feel like walking out, but it was too unfamiliar of a place for me to safely do that, so while I was partially bluffing, I would have to follow through with that bluff if he called it. While having an ulterior motive, I too was beginning to become emotionally wrapped up in the argument, and then we really would be nowhere. It was time to start making this more constructive.
"Why did you treat your mother like that on the phone?" I asked, bringing the conversation back to the beginning.
"Because she's intrusive," he spat. "She shouldn't be calling so late."
"It's not that late. It's only 7:00."
"Yes, but we came here to get away from her. I don't want to talk to her."
"I understand that, but she's lonely. She wanted to talk. It's not so bad to listen to her talk about her day, she obviously wasn't demanding anything of you other than that."
"How do you know that?" He asked incredulously.
"I may not be able to speak French very well," I responded, "but you know me well enough to know that I understand much of it just fine. I know from what you were saying, she was just talking about her day."
"Yes," he sighed, "but she is so annoying."
"Maybe, but you could be nice to her a little bit. Then you wouldn't feel so shitty after basically hanging up on her after yelling at her. If you took ten minutes, played nice, and then hung up, you'd feel a hell of a lot better about these kinds of calls. It's when you act like an ass, you feel like an ass. It's kind of self-reinforcing."
He agreed, and decided to call her back. After about 15 minutes, he was finished. He felt better, she apparently felt better. We all felt better.
Apparently, after my brutal honesty, he felt brave enough to begin some of his own on me. It was only fair. He began by mentioning that I wasn't that responsive to his recent overtures of intimacy.
"I know," I said, "and you're right."
Even so, he needed to explain (and I don't blame him for it), "The other night, when I ran my fingers across your ass, you didn't respond to that... and when I fondled you last night, you didn't do anything about that either... and even this morning, when I did something I almost never do, I tried to suck you, and you stopped me."
"I know," I paused. "It's complicated."
"After that long argument I've really been trying, but you're not responding. I'm not sure how to feel or what to do. Be honest with me, what is going on?"
"I don't want to hurt your feelings."
"Don't worry about that, just tell me."
I took a breath. "Well..." I inhaled again. I had to just spit this out. "Sex with you is just bad." I couldn't look at him.
I knew he had these big eyes as I said that, I could just imagine his lower lip trembling. I was going to cry, and me, being a bastard, was going to make him cry too. After all this, after all the demands I made, I'm avoiding him… and then I tell him why. I am a bastard.
"You don't want to be rejected again," he lifted my chin so that I'd look him in the eyes. "Is that it?"
I looked at him, taken a bit off guard.
"I think I understand," he said softly. "If we try again, and if I reject you again… you don't want to go through that. I understand. Rejection is your worst fear, and you've experienced that over and over again with me, you are now trying to avoid it."
"Um, that makes sense," I said lamely, stunned.
Here I was blaming myself, and there he was blaming himself. While better than pointing fingers at each other, it still wouldn't get us very far.
"I hesitate to say this," he began after a long silence between us, "but sometimes I wish you would just accept that we can have what you think is bad sex. It's good sex for me, and I don't know if I can ever meet your standards."
"What?"
"Look," he stared into my eyes, "I'm trying my best. I know you are trying too, but you and I both too often want to give up on this. I want to let it go. But neither of us can. There has to be some middle."
That's true, I thought, but I don't want to commit to being satisfied with a terrible sex life, even if we can meet these needs elsewhere. It's important for me to have a good physical relationship with my partner, even if rarely. I've compromised on the rarely, and lately have accepted never. I need this to change, but I'm also reinforcing the lack of sex because it is so bad.
Damn this circular reasoning, hypocrisy, and self-generated bindings!
Besides, he's right. We both have to work at this. And yes, it is difficult (that continues to be the understatement of this relationship).
"We've worked too hard for us to let this go be the wayside," I said. "You're right. We have to figure something out. How we can do this, I have no idea. Seriously, I would like to you to explore your sexuality, perhaps if you practiced, you might get better... you might be able to work out some of your phobias, if you did this in concert with counseling. That might work." What the hell, we can try anything at this point.
"You know I can't do that," he said, dismissing the idea immediately.
"No, really think about it," I said. "Look, you're right. I'm avoiding sex with you even after this whole big scene a week ago (and really beyond that, the past three years). Having sex with you is like having sex with a virgin. I have to tell you how to do this, how do to that. Put your hand here, put your mouth there. Whatever. That's not so much fun for me. And I know it's not fun for you either. It kind of defeats the point."
He nodded.
"So," I continued, "maybe if you practice a bit with others who aren't so important, then you can work out what exactly you like to do, what exactly you can do, and perhaps even get better or get through some things you are otherwise uncomfortable with."
He looked at me. There was silence. He did, however, look like he was considering the idea.
"Look. You will be working with your doctor while you're doing this, right?"
He nodded.
"And you'll be working with a counselor, right?"
He nodded again.
"And you can work with me too. I will not be judging you. I will not be jealous of or for you. I am going to support you through this. And I'm not being completely altruistic either. Far from it, my stake in this is that you become comfortable enough with your body that I can have access to it at some point."
He laughed at that statement. And we talked about it. After a good hour or so of further discussion, he was actually even open to the idea. I think that after he broke through the fear that I was going to be somehow ultimately judgmental of him having relationships with other people, just as when he was afraid to tell me that he had invited men over for his voyeuristic affairs, he was actually open to the idea of exploring.
That, in itself, was a breakthrough. Hallelujah.
So we'll see what happens. I've been able to explore my sexuality, he should be able to do the same. He just needs to break through his phobias to be able to do so. That's why I do want him to work though his doctor and counselor. If he can break through and conquer his unfounded fears of HIV, then he ultimately can allow himself to be touched by others; ultimately, by me (especially because I'm disease-free). And he knows I will always be honest with him about my condition, regardless of whether or not my condition changes.
He will hopefully be able to penetrate his disgust of the human condition of sweat, saliva, and cum and be able to enjoy the things that make sex so wonderful. Of course, there is delineation between what is appropriate and relatively safe, and what is inappropriate and foolhardy when sexually exploring with strangers, friends, or one's partner. But again, that's why it is so important for the two of us to be working through this in concert, and simultaneously with a doctor and counselor. Perhaps, then the two of us can meet in some more appropriate middle that works for our mutual delight.
And now I have to find myself a counselor too.
It's only fair.
posted by Tildar @ 3:07 PM
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