Notes from a broken down mess



I’m a short, fat, middle-aged, half deaf, disabled man with partial facial paralysis, without much energy and with even less money. And being around people makes me incredibly nervous. That’s not a comprehensive description of who I am, of course. I have my good points. But still, I don’t think many would consider me a catch. I’m not saying that to be down on myself. I’m just dealing with reality. I happen to be most strongly attracted to young, lithe, slender, smooth men who are more pretty than handsome. You can call me shallow for being like that. You can tell me that I *should* be attracted to men who are more like myself, or to hairy men, or muscular, manly men. You might say that one day I might fall for a man who is more “right” for me. Maybe, and pigs might fly, too. But in the meantime, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to. And, again, I’m just dealing with reality.

This situation can be frustrating at times, but what helps is that I really don’t expect those to whom I’m attracted to like me back. I simply don’t. In fact, if a young pretty man expressed an interest in me, I would think he was quite odd. I would be grateful. I would find it flattering. I might even consider a relationship…one that would last a few hours, a day, a week, a month or till death do us part. But I would think he was strange.

I think I deserve respect, and I hope to find compassion in this life. But love and desire? I don’t think anyone owes me those things. And I don’t think anyone can give me those things simply because they want to or think I deserve it. Either you feel it or you don’t. You can’t force it. If love and desire were things human beings could muster at will simply because they thought they should, or they were told that they should, or they thought it would be noble of them, “ex-gay therapy” would work, and it doesn’t.

I think everybody should have the right to be honest about who they are and what they feel. I also think everybody should have the right to not be interested…for whatever reason and even if others think they’re of low moral character or a pain in the backside or a stuck up asshole for not finding supposedly deserving people sexually or romantically appealing.

At this point in life, I’m not sure I want to be coupled even if it was just for a few hours. I’m not sure I would be up to it. I think it would have been nice and I think I really needed it when I was younger. I think it would have been easier for me to find a squeaky-voiced little fairy boy back in the day if I lived in a more open and accepting society. I sometimes wonder what my life would be like now if I had found my cute little man. Would he be with me now? Would we still be happy together? I don’t know, but in any event, I didn’t find him.

So it’s up to me to love myself. And that means loving myself as I am rather than what others think I should be. If I’m that aging, broken down mess who sometimes daydreams about holding Dylan O’Brian, then I’ll just have to be that guy. There are worse things. And I don’t hold it against the Dylans of the world for not wanting to be with me, so it’s not so bad.