Self-Absorbed or Self-Protective?

I’ve been accused of being self-absorbed. I cannot deny that. But nothing happens in vacuum—I’m self-absorbed for a reason.

I was a very intelligent and unathletic child raised in a town full of average, sports-minded boys. On top of that I was gay, and raised in fundamentalist church. Subconsciously I absorbed the lesson that I was at war with the world.

In adulthood I learned that of course I am not important enough to be the object of the world’s persecution. Paranoia is perverse egotism. But I’m wise enough to know that this world is harsh on individualism, and really harsh on those who fit in least.

To forgive the world and ‘lay down my arms’ would be best for me, for my mental and physical health. (Forgiveness on my part will make no difference to the world.) But every week I get some new, fresh reminder just how opposed to me the world is (as in last week’s DADT drama from our current executive administration). To forgive and to lay down my arms could possibly open me up to more relationships, more friendships and possibly even a long-lasting relationship. To forgive and to lay down my arms could save my brain, my stomach and my heart, literally.

Today I saw a man not much older than me walking down the sidewalk. He gave me this look that hurt me to see. It wasn’t a leer. It was desire mixed with sadness and loneliness. It was pathos. I felt bad for him; I felt fear for myself. I don’t want to be like him. I want a relationship with another man, and my body is still sufficiently youthful to lust. But I don’t want ever to have that look of sadness, loneliness and desire to play across my face.

The likelihood is that I will never have another long-term relationship. With each passing month, the likelihood grows less and less. I could give into the feelings of sadness, loneliness and frustrated desire. Or I can choose to celebrate my uniqueness in my solitude.

The War with the World

After I came out I always assumed I would be partnered. I felt as if, whether I deserved a partner or not, I needed one in order to be able to face the world. I reckon ever since kindergarten I've always viewed my relationship to 'the world' as adversarialy. We maintain a wary truce at best. A partner was supposed to be someone with whom I shared the burdens of the ongoing war, a person who would dress the wounds of the day's battles as I would his, and with whom, in each other's arms, we would become restored for the next day's fight.

It may well be that the problem I'm having with dating and finding a partner is the assumption of an adversarial relationship with the whole world. Most weeks, by the time Friday night rolls around, I feel so defensive I know for a fact it would be a very good idea not to show my face in public. Having spent a week feeling like I'm under attack, I don't want to go out and whoop it up with friends—I want to hide out in the mancave with Manuel, some primo ale and bad television.

I wonder whether my approach to weekends would be different if I arrived at them feeling merely tired, as opposed to feeling tired, embattled and aggrieved. Is it possible that a more active social life is available through a simple attitude adjustment?