Truth be known, I'm a bit of a commitment-phobe. While the idea of a love and a relationship are, at times, mildly enticing to me, I really enjoy the freedom to eat a greasy cheeseburger and fall asleep when I choose without the responsibility of another. But, alas this is me. A Demi Lovato song is as much intimacy as I need on any given day.
My personal feelings aside, I have many friends enjoying the perks of love and mating, and I'm happy for their happiness. More often than not, that love is far more complicated than the surface level. Last night, I had the pleasure of peeking into my friend Jamie's heartbreak and story of love. Jamie is a friend of mine from the East Coast, who has recently moved his ass out to LaLaLand. Jamie, like me, is a Jewish gay, born from Southern Jersey roots, with overly-neurotic hormones and a palpable uneasiness. Our phone conversations reminisce the good ol' days of Coffee Talk with Linda Richman. Check it out here.
During our conversation last evening, I could hear the sadness in Jamie's voice as he had had a rough day courtesy of his ex of five years. Jamie's ex - Billy-Bob - was a recently divorced closeted gay man when they met five and a half years ago. Now, Billy-Bob is closeted and five plus years outside the divorce. As a side note, that's what we call EVOLUTION. What a changed individual... Billy-Bob met Jamie one fateful afternoon online in a sex chatroom about six years ago. Isn't that how all great romances begin?? Billy-Bob was living in Maryland, while Jamie was still in New Jersey. Billy-Bob began courting Jamie and one fateful evening they met up and sealed the deal - sexually, that is. Jamie fell for Billy-Bob instantly and felt the connection was love at first chat. Knowing no one in Maryland, Jamie made the leap and moved down to the area from Jersey on the hopes of a future. The second Jamie arrived, Billy-Bob informed him that he had begun dating someone else and was no longer interested in a relationship. Well, not a relationship with Jamie. Six months after that, Billy-Bob found himself without a boyfriend and struggling with no job. Here enters Jamie.
Jamie had acclimated himself to the Chesapeake Bay State. He had made friends and found work. Billy-Bob came crawling back with a few small gestures including and limited to flowers and chocolate. Well, needless to say, carnations and Hershey's kisses swept Jamie off his feet. Wouldn't that do it for you?? I know it would for me. Classic love story. So, Jamie took him back. Now Billy-Bob had no job, was in the process of an eviction, and lonely. Jamie began caring for their relationship and taking on a Paternal role in the relationship. The best part of this was that Billy-Bob was pushing forty, while Jamie was barely 21. Who doesn't dream of an older, wiser, more experienced freeloader to run your bank account dry??
All of these reasons always rubbed me the wrong way about their relationship. I offered to freeload off Jamie and ridicule him daily if that's what would make him happy. He never saw my perspective. At one point, money struggles had reached a record high and Jamie began running a massage parlor out of their one-bedroom apartment. This was a classy massage parlor with a fold away table from Home Depot, Ikea sheets, and a handy j, more commonly known as a "happy ending". Meanwhile, Billy-Bob didn't work, but voyeuristically stayed close in the next room throughout the "experience". This should paint a clear picture of their relationship. Hopefully...
Fast-forward to today, Jamie is living in LaLaLand and no longer with Billy-Bob. This is not to say he's not still under Billy-Bob's spell, missing the "love" they once had. In face, despite the 3000 mile distance, Jamie is constantly missing that relationship, wanting a "do-over". This month, however, the two had an agreement where Billy-Bob was going to pay Jamie a pre-discussed sum of money. Jamie still looks back on their relationship with lovestruck eyes, so it never seemed tangible that he may not receive the funds. Low and behold, yesterday morning, Jamie received a message courtesy of Facebook (how intimate) from Billy-Bob explaining that he would not be sending the money. Not a partial payment, not a dollar, but nothing.
Jamie was hurt beyond belief. He sat on the other end of the phone with me last night, hysterical and confused as to how the "love of his life" could have done this to him. I kept trying to make him see what a jerk Billy-Bob is. He always has been. Jamie couldn't see it.
I brought up the time when he was running his bordello of happy endings, while Billy-Bob stayed stagnant and unemployed. I thought this would be the winning argument, assuming we were in the courtroom and I had to argue my case. Jamie wasn't buying. That's when he felt the need to better explain the massage experience and Billy-Bob's noble role. "When I used to have guys come over, I never really knew who they were. It could be scary and I didn't have my parents to go to. Billy-Bob was my family." I still stood there on the receiving end of this call misunderstanding Billy-Bob's noble actions. I asked: "How does that not make him an asshole?? Wasn't his job as your partner to help look out for you?? Or am I just crazy??" Jamie quickly responded, explaining I hadn't let him finish the story: "When the stragglers from the internet entered my home, Billy-Bob stayed in the living room with a big fat Butcher's knife in hand. He left me a knife under the bed, in case the paying party tried any funny business. And Billy-Bob would stay by the door, listening to every moment. He loved me so much and he protected me!" All I could respond was a common response of mine: "You gotta be shittin me, woman?!"
"And he would stay by the door while you gave a happy ending? That's kid of creepy, Jamie." To which Jamie responded: "I never used my mouth. That was reserved for my love: Billy-Bob." Well, how frikin romantic... I have no idea how such a stand up guy could be flaking on his responsibilities now?? Strange... Fishy...
All I can say is that maybe I don't know what true love really is. Maybe it's a knife under the bed. I can tell you this, no one has ever carried a knife to protect me. Maybe I've been looking at love all wrong... Hmmm...
Thoughts or opinions?
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