Sometimes an affair to remember is one that should not be forgotten

(*I wrote this blog post last week, but for some reason it was difficult to post. I'm still not quite sure why, but perhaps it will come to me later*)

I’m sure we’ve all been there. You know, doing something and then immediately regretting it. Sometimes you feel guilty or remorseful about an action, and then you inevitably beat yourself up for it over and over.
This is going to sound pretty odd for those people who know me pretty well, but I can’t lump myself into that category. Things I’ve done in the past since coming out, I rarely ever feel guilty, or remorseful, or regret. I’ve felt in a lot of ways that perhaps once I came out, my system was not programmed to have those feelings, you know those, the “I regret that moment” gene.
When it comes to any sort of affection, if I’ve participated, I never feel guilty or regret it. The only emotions of this sort that creep into my being is if the other participant harbors those feelings. I’m not saying that I’ve never felt those pangs of guilt over something, but growing up and spending about two-thirds of my life under the thumb of religion, perhaps I’ve been in a position to compartmentalize those feelings.
I don’t take those feelings away from anyone. People feel what they feel. That’s the human experience, and in a way, I feel some jealousy for those who are able to have those emotions. I rarely envy others, but when people intake those emotions, I wonder if I’m just not equipped for that.
I try never to let someone think I don’t understand when they express the emotions, because in my mind, it makes me think that I’m belittling them or their feelings. Trust me, I am an empathetic soul and would never let anyone think their feelings aren’t genuine. It’s just hard to understand why they beat themselves up over it.
I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve not let people know that I don’t regret or feel guilt over any sort of sexual indiscretion or displays of affection, perhaps stolen kisses … I thought others might think I’m a sociopath or something.
Don’t worry, I’m not a sociopath. I just spent almost three decades forced to keep any displays of affection – in the Biblical sense – out of sight, and it gets very overly-cautious. I had to spend all those years celibate for the religion, and I tell you, once you get the chance to break out and set yourself free, you learn pretty quickly that the emotion of guilt and regret over those indiscretions are overrated.
It’s so funny how I’ve learned as a gay man to separate guilt. Trust me – I do feel guilt, but not in relation to any sort of indiscretions where emotions are involved. You learn after living years not in a position to express joy in many acts, having to save yourself exclusively for one person, you definitely would take full advantage of being able to express yourself sexually.
Once I claimed my sexual preference and busted out of that closet, there was no stopping me. And it was a difficult process, leaving my religion behind (but remaining religious) and it took some time to put things in check for myself.
My therapist (yes, I do consult one from time to time) said something pretty funny to me – not funny hah hah, funny peculiar. He said that I do have feelings of guilt and regret, and I have those feelings because I don’t have feelings of guilt and regret. In a nutshell, I feel guilty because I don’t feel guilty over any sort of indiscretion; and coming from a world of religion, that’s just not possible. And yes, he could very well be correct.
When I do run into someone who I’ve had any sort of intimate experience with in the past, I never feel bad or guilty; I’m actually pleased to see them. I never feel awkwardness because we have shared something, in my book, ultimately special. So when I run into the person(s) and see that they may feel awkward or uncomfortable, I truly wish they wouldn’t feel that way because I, myself, don’t feel that way.
Growing up in the church, and having to hide away all those feelings and emotions, it gives a person a sort of rejuvenation when you no longer have to do so.
I guess the moral of this particular blog, to put it in its simplest form, is that no matter what happens with a person, it is okay to feel a sense of contentment and look on an indiscretion fondly. It was a learning experience about oneself, and there is no regret about taking heart in the knowledge that, for a moment in time, you took a chance on bringing satisfaction to your life in some way, shape or form.
Take advantage of these moments, people. Life, as we all know, is way too short and as long as we always try our best to enter the experience with both eyes wide open, we have no reason to feel guilt or pressure to regret.
So smile when you run into that person with whom you’ve shared a moment in time. Because as long as you’ve taken a little positive away with you from the experience, it’ll be alright.

Hi my name's Eric, and I'm addicted to emotionally unavailable bisexual men

I consider myself a fairly intelligent homosexual man. But I suppose any amount of intelligence can fly right out of the window when an attractive man gives you the time of day.
I’m single – painfully so, attractive (in my own opinion), fun-loving, with a big heart and infectious laugh. I take care of myself, eat right, enjoy the company of others and am fiercely loyal. Some look at me and my actions at times and consider me a Pollyanna. True, I can be too trusting and see the world through rose-colored glasses.
Okay, this is beginning to sound like a personals ad. But I digress…
I do think of myself as intelligent. So it boggles my mind that I continually find myself in the situation that I lap into on occasion. And I wish there were a 12-step program for my compulsion. My compulsion, you ask?
I’m addicted to bisexual men, especially the emotionally unavailable ones.
I’m as amazed as anyone that I find myself in that situation. I mean, my usual type of man that I find myself attracted to have been men in their mid-40s to early 50s, attractive, muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair. The professional gay man, established with a strong sense of who he is and what he wants to do. Those are the men I find most attractive.
So why, or why do I always find myself in the throes of romantic entanglements with bisexual men who just want to use my heart as a middle ground between loving themselves too much and finding the next woman who they ultimately will leave me behind for because the moral society is much easier for them as a man with a woman on his arm? This is the question I ask myself in the mirror; I’m just waiting for the mirror to answer me back.
I know all too well that there is a definite allure for a gay man to want straight men. That’s a given. But I’m not talking about straight men. I’m speaking of the men who are at the crossroads between the land of straight-hood and being a fabulous gay man. They don’t want to make that leap, so they linger in the middle swampland and just stay.
There most definitely needs to be a 12-step rehabilitation program for gay men like myself, who just can’t help themselves. Bisexual men are like Reese’s peanut butter cups for me – I am addicted to the sheer joy of the taste, and although due to health reasons I cannot enjoy them anymore, when I pass one I just can’t resist. My mouth waters, my eyes twitch, my heart races, my blood boils a bit, and my hands get sweaty. After all, no one can eat just one.
My last most-recent encounter with a bisexual man, who I’d sworn off because it’s just a merry-go-round of heartbreak each time he enters my universe, did not turn out like I’d thought it would. He’s still the same person who I was addicted to before. And I’m glad he is, because it makes it easier to move on and leave him behind.
He did teach me one thing, though. He taught me that he, along with so many other bisexual men, are unattainable and unable to commit anything to me because there will always be another woman in the wings.
It’s hard enough for gay men to have to continually worry that they may lose their boyfriends/partners/lovers to another gay man. But when you add in the prospect and fear that you could lose him to another woman as well! Well, that’s just too much to take at times.
So if there is a support group or rehabilitation program out there, send me the phone number; I need it. And friends, if you see that I’m slipping into falling off the wagon, I give you permission to scurry me away from the “drug” and lecture me endlessly.
I promise I will thank you!
(*Editor’s note: To my readers and followers, this will begin a new schedule for my blog. Starting today, my blog will post bi-weekly on Sundays. So enjoy!)