Gay Men: Friendships

I tend to make a lot of generalizations about people. That may be wrong but it is more often right. Suffice to say that I realize that we are all different. As a matter of fact, I think people are extremely varied and different, even within their own cultures & races & religions, which goes against the ethos of “we are all the same” that has been shoved down our throats by political peacekeepers for centuries. But that’s another post…

Back to my generalizations.

Many gay men share similarities in how they felt growing up and maturing. Now, I know there are those guys out there who loved playing sports as a kid and had tons of buddies and dated prom queens, but you are a minority.

The majority of gay men grew up feeling different and a little scared of that feeling. Depending on where they grew up and their family that was either a little awkward at times or completely hellish.

I was fortunate enough that it was only a little awkward. I was a clever boy and had a sharp wit and tongue and made a lot of friends even if I was a little fruity. I also grew up in a fairly progressive area, too, which helped.

But I think what I recall most about the ages of roughly 8 or 9 to 13 or 14 was being terribly lonely for male companionship, for male friendship, for a “best friend.”

I played with a lot of boys but most of my friendships did not gel. I wasn’t into sports and I wasn’t into violent games. The friends I had as a young boy were into playing with me alone (because I was so fucking interesting, thanks) but in a larger group would pull away.

Eventually, booze and drugs and partying would bring us together, but I think that loneliness had a profound effect on me. I remember watching the movie “Taps” at some point when I was a young teen and being absolutely demolished with sobbing and misery over the camaraderie in that film, a camaraderie I felt I would never experience.

As an adult, so many gay men gravitate to women as friends. Many of us had girl friends in high school. It is safe for us and for them. We, of course, also have gay male friends, but that is often tinged with competition, much like women and their women friends.

Ah, but the straight man. So many gay men are so wonderful to the straight man. We adore straight men. Fawn over straight men. Give straight men little extras and favors. Even find ourselves acting a little straighter around the straight man so as not to offend their sensibilities, so that they'll like us, so that they'll be our friend. Of course they have to be nice and cool and a little cute and maybe even sort-of flirt with us a bit. It’s all because that straight man is the Holy Grail, the best friend we never had as a little boy and that we still want. And oftentimes enough there is some sexual fantasy attached to that longing. How many times have we said “He’s so nice, he has to be gay.” It’s amazing to me the shit we let straight men get away with because they don’t spit on us and call us “Faggot.”

I had a friend when I was 18. Her name was Linzi and she was pretty fabulous. I had just moved to Manhattan and she was 16 and was the epitome of the cool prep school chick. Little, blonde, Ska-loving, mini-skirt wearing fun girl. We partied like the shit. She had a boyfriend named Ted who was so special. So cute. He was blond and sweet and lean and had abs before they were popular. He was so proud of those abs, would pull up his shirt unprovoked and make them dance. He was like a puppy, all eager to please and affectionate. And I was a little afraid of him because he was so nice, a little uneasy around him. But he was my friend. He trusted me and so did she. I don't think I had ever been happier until then.

All 3 of us were coke fiends together. Doing lines on any stable surface. 8-ball weekends during a hot summer with cool ACs and Peter Gabriel blaring in the background. We were “Less than Zero” New York style.

We slept in the same loft bed. And Ted and I hung out alone while Linzi worked. Frisbee in Central Park. One night something happened. Sort of. We were all sleeping together and I got a big hard-on and his hand made its way to it and felt it. I know he did. But near as soon as it began it ended.

But I could not let that go.

I wanted it to be more than it was. I listened to some bullshit from some queen that said that he had seen Ted partying at Boy Bar. And I was big on impressing my back home small town friends then so I told them all about my episode with Ted. Except I embellished. Made it sound like a full-on affair.

But wouldn’t you know it’s a small world. Trite but true. I figured that out at 18 and it’s been proving itself to me ever since:

One friend I blabbed to ended up at college with Linzi.

Another friend I blabbed to ended up at college (the same dorm) with Linzi’s best friend.

As if that wasn’t enough, I then blew it big. Even after Ted and Linzi broke up, I repeated what that dumb queen had told me, something lame like “Ted made out with some guy at Boy Bar.” And don’t you know Linzi flipped out. I thought she was over him but she flipped out. She asked me for a dime so she could call him and ask him (what was he supposed to say?) Of course he denied it and I was the bad guy. I’ll never forget her saying “You believed this? I went out with him for two years, yet you believed this?”

So, I lost two friends, including the guy that was supposed to be the best friend I never had. All because I wanted that straight guy to not be straight.

So, I’m losing my focus, off on a tangent. It’s all about friends and how we relate to one another and the baggage that gay men are released into the world with.

I think straight men are one of the reasons that gay men are so into their bodies. It’s a kind of end to something we started in high school. What I mean is, I always wanted to use the weight room in high school but I was intimidated because all the big straight boys used it. Now, as an adult, I can grunt along with the best of them. I can be their equal, I can show them.

So much about being gay, especially in your 20s, is settling scores from your early years. Such as promiscuity. So many of us were unsatisfied sexually as teens and, on the flip side, didn’t have the dating rituals others did. So our 20s are sort of a protracted adolescence we never had. We sleep around a lot and get into drama and generally act like teenagers.

Now that I’m older, most of that shit is behind me. Now I worry about other things like being something, accomplishing something, being relevant. But sometimes I still look at the easy friendships between straight men and feel a twinge of envy. But it’s never going to happen for me. I’m gay and that’s that. There are some things that just can’t be. I imagine it’s kind of like being a black guy and not wanting little old white woman to swerve away when they pass you on the street or being Jewish and wanting to have Christmas, it’s just not going to happen.