The Man That Got Away
by maxmosher
Late August, 2010. Rushing, I changed my shirt and my deodorant in the bathroom at work. After an eight-hour shift, I was meeting up with a guy from an internet dating site. We shall call him Scott. I had recently been broken up with in an email by the man who I ironically nicknamed the Gentleman. I was emotionally vulnerable, but wanted to get back in the game. No matter what I’ve been through with men, no matter how disastrous my heartbreaks, I’ve always been willing to try again.
I met Scott at Pauper’s Pub on Bloor Street. He was adorable, with curly red hair and a boyish smile. We talked about the Muppets, Joan Crawford and Canadian politics. Our first disagreement was about Michael Ignatieff.
“I actually like Ignatieff,” he claimed.
“Isn’t he just the worst example of a pompous, other-worldly academic who…”
“Okay. I lied. I agree with you.” He laughed.
“What a classic Liberal you are!”
It was the best first date of my life, made better when he agree to come back to my place. We cuddled in my bed and then began to kiss. Overjoyed, I blurted out, “I’m so relieved you’re kissing me!”
“Um,” he started. “What are you looking for right now?”
“What?” I asked, moving away from him. “What are you looking for right now?”
“Nothing serious. I’m still getting over my ex.”
It was like the bomb was going off slowly. In denial, I tried to curtail the unpreventable. “Okay. Scott, this is a first date. It’s going very well, and I want to have a second, but we just met.”
“I think I might have to leave it with one night.”
“Oh…”
We lay in silence for some minutes.
“Scott, do you really think you’re going to meet another guy who wants to talk about the Muppets, Joan Crawford and Canadian politics?”
“Probably not…”
“Listen, it’s okay to go slow. I also have an ex who broke my heart. But you take it day by day…”
Then he began to cry.
He slept in the spare bedroom. The next day, he sent me an email which gave the excuse, “I think we both had too much to drink.” I never saw him again.
Late August, 2011. I rushed from work to meet Derrick. Having sworn off dating websites, I had met him on facebook when he ‘liked’ a status of mine. (My status updates are kind of a big deal.) I met him at Pauper’s Pub and he was even cuter than I expected. If you had written a list of features Max likes, you would check off every one: big dark eyes, check; scruffy beard, check; a face which would be intimidating in its handsomeness were its owner not so bashful, check! He had an easy going nature and an admirable community-building job to boot.
We talked about ‘Sesame Street’, Liza Minnelli and American politics. He stared intensely and a couple times openly mentioned that he was interested in me. I liked the Max I saw reflected in his eyes.
He offered to walk me home, and half way there (“Okay, Max, you do not live ‘right by’ Ossington Station!”) we both had to pee, which provided a good excuse to get him upstairs.
“I love your room!” he exclaimed, scanning the walls of all my Edward Gorey, Barack Obama and Vogue pictures. I fidgeted around, excusing the clutter, babbling on. I sat beside him on the bed to show him a book and was interrupted by him kissing me. It was nice kissing.
And this time I was determined to keep my mouth shut. Er, what I mean is, I was not going to say anything to provoke a scary “what do you want” conversation. We made out for ten minutes and he murmured my name softly. No one had ever done that before.
“Max,” he said, looking down on me with a smile, “Have I told you about the difficulty in dating me.”
“What?”
“Oh…”
“What is it!” I demanded, sitting straight up.
“I don’t do monogamy.”
Ba-boom.
“Okay…”
“I just can’t close myself to experiences with anybody right now.”
“Right now…?”
“Or ever, I guess. Although I think I will find a special person to share my life with, I always want to be free to explore others sexually.”
“I see.”
“Are you all right?”
“Why is there always another shoe?” I asked the universe more than him.
“You’re not all right.”
One year after I met Scott, another ‘perfect’ man and I lay in silence. I could have thrown a hissy fit and kicked him out of my house. But what would I gain from that? I didn’t want a repeat of last summer. I didn’t want to lose him before getting to know him. How many guys out there want to discuss ‘Sesame Street’, Liza Minnelli and American politics?
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” Derrick said.
“Can you do me a favour?” I asked. “All my dating life people have made decisions without me. Can we just hold out on figuring this out?”
“Yes,” he answered. I kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re kissing me,” he said.
“I have one more question: do you think we might have something really special.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay, that’s all you need to say right now.”
It was dawn before we fell asleep.
The next day brought no more clarity. He rode with me on the subway as I went downtown for Jack Layton’s memorial. I told him I was going to my cottage for a week and a half.
“So I guess, if I’m lucky, I’ll see you in a week and a half…?”
He kissed me goodbye at the platform.
The getaway to Lake Simcoe was well timed: I didn’t take my lap top; I watched Indiana Jones movies and read P.G. Wodehouse and P.D. James (who I kind of thought were the same person until I bought paperbacks by both); I thought things over.
During day light, laying in the hammock or going for muddy walks, I’d think, ‘It’s not a big deal. Normally, You wouldn’t ask for exclusivity after a first date. He admitted you have something special and maybe he’ll adapt. He’s the best guy you’ve met in a really long time.’
At night, though, the demons of doubt would come: ‘Max, are you nuts? This guy was willing to jeopardize it on your first date? Non-monogamy is that important to him! What do you think is going to happen? He’s going to change for you, like the end of a romantic comedy? End it with him on facebook tomorrow!’
I should add that I support people’s right to have whatever kind of relationship they chose. The queer community has always pioneered different ways of loving and I admire that…in theory. But polyamory is not for me. I find it emotionally icky.
A drama-free open relationship, like visible abdominal muscles, is a myth of the gay community.
So I was left with a complex Catch 22. Start the conversation soon but risk ending it and always wondering what could have been, or give it time and wait for Derrick to fall in love so that he’d be open to compromise, but risk getting even more hurt.
I succumbed and borrowed my Mom’s laptop and snuck over to our neighbours’ log cabin to use their internet.
I had a message from Derrick: “Is it weird that I already miss you?”
“No weirder than me using my Mom’s laptop and our neighbours’ internet connection to check and see if you’d written me,” I typed.
Our second date went well. We rented ‘Burlesque’ and drank a lot of red wine. We managed to not bring up the pink elephant and, more surprising, I didn’t worry about it.
On our third date, I wasn’t so lucky. We were at an art event in Parkdale and Derrick started telling a supposedly funny story about going to “one of” his lover’s parties, an anniversary for him and his partner. Derrick, unknowing of whether the partner understood how close they were, got up to the open mic and told embarrassing stories about the lover. Afterwards, the partner gave him a hug of recognition.
Beyond becoming instantly jealous (Was this a current lover?) I asked myself if I actually wanted to be with someone who was so comfortable being the other man. I want to be part of a committed partnership, but not one in which our younger lovers come to our anniversary parties. With the seed planted in my mind, for the rest of the evening when he mentioned a boyfriend I couldn’t avoid thinking ‘Past or present?’
The next morning, I was so wracked with unease I almost made myself sick from worrying. Oblivious, he cuddled me.
Derrick and I didn’t talk for a week, but he continued to comment on everything I put on facebook. Perhaps I was postponing the conversation (which, despite my best efforts, I still thought of as an ultimatum) because I was hoping something would change.
One night in bed he had said to me, “Do you know how hard it is to meet nice, cute guys who are good conversationalists and good kissers?”
“Yes, I do.”
He surprised me by showing up at the Word on the Street festival. I was tired from being there all day at the WORN table and a little ill from too many sweet potato fries. My heart sunk when I realized I’d have to have the talk with him then.
“You look really hot today,” he said. My heart entered my stomach.
We went for a walk on the UofT campus. Although I could barely make eye contact with him, once I started, everything I had been worried about spilled out.
“I like you more than I’ve liked a guy in a long time. You’re incredible. I probably should have brought this up earlier, but I didn’t want to lose you before we had a chance to get to know each other. You were honest with me about monogamy on our first date, but I also let you know how I felt about your position. If I wasn’t more clear, it’s only because I liked you so much. If you had treated me less romantically, like a casual friend with benefits, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling this way. But I can’t fall in love with someone who wants to sleep with other people.”
We sat down on a grassy knoll in Philosopher’s Walk.
“Derrick, don’t make me ask the question you know I need to ask.”
“I like you a lot,” he finally sighed. “And I don’t treat anybody else the way I treat you. You are amazing and I think we have something special. But I can’t promise anybody monogamy.”
“Can’t promise monogamy?”
“You’re right, that’s bad wording. I don’t want monogamy.”
I told him the joke that had been brewing in my head for three weeks: “I can make you this deal: we can date other people after we break up.” He smiled weakly. I said, “Can I ask why?”
“I want to experience my friends and people I may meet in a lot of different ways, including sexually. I told you, I can’t close myself to good experiences.”
“Thing is, Derrick, you’re closing yourself to me right now. What about when you meet that special someone, you still want to be open?”
“Yeah. It’s something I’m always going to want.”
“Well,” I said. “I think that’s selfish. Being with someone, loving someone, sometimes means giving up stuff which would hurt them.”
He didn’t respond.
“Hasn’t this happen to you before?”
“Not really. I’ve had boyfriends, it’s just always ended over something else.”
“You’ve been lucky.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told that,” he said.
“This sucks,” I said.
“Can we at least be friends?”
I shook my head. “I don’t stay friends with exes. Most of my exes have hurt me too much.”
“You’re breaking up with me, Max.” I needed to hear the words come out of his mouth to actually believe it. “I’m going to really miss you. It makes me sad.”
“It makes me sad too.”
We got up and walked to the subway, mostly in silence. “Any extra time I can spend with you,” he said, wistfully. He stopped to pick up some smooth chestnuts and I almost started crying when he tried to give me one.
“Derrick, please, no…”
Outside the subway station he asked if he could invite me to his birthday party in December.
“No. I’m always going to wish I was your boyfriend.”
“Are you even going to delete me off facebook?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to go.” We hugged. It was tight and lengthy. “Listen, this sounds weird,” I whispered in his ear. “But I sort of love you.”
“Not weird at all,” he said, tears coming to his eyes.
“Please don’t message me. I’ll email you if I want to.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
I walked all the way home.
Postscript: That first evening, I grew angry that he hadn’t budged in his position. He didn’t waver about the non-monogamy in any way, wasn’t even tempted to try to stay with me. But soon I realized that this also showed that I did the right thing. We would have fought about it eventually and the break up would have been even harder.
I also realized that I was just as stubborn as him.
But the difference is that I’ve been a push over with guys in the past. The Max of four years ago might have stayed with him longer, or changed his mind mid-break up. The silver lining of this whole mini-romance is seeing plainly that I know who I am and can put myself first. Offered a relationship with a beautiful and wonderful guy, but one who would hurt me, I chose to be single.
And the freedom of choice is a wonderful thing.
So well written and honest. Thanks for sharing this, Max.
I liked this as much as it made me sad. Monogamy isn’t all that bad… but neither is being poly. One of the things I rail about is how stifling monogamy can be after a while, how it inhibits personal growth and can turn what used to be a wonderful arrangement into a living nightmare. People have this angst about sharing love and while I do understand this, love is meant to be shared and, in a way, it’s just as much being stubborn and even selfish to expect to keep anyone solely to yourself because you do, in fact, share him with many other people – and some of them might even love him – think about that one for a moment and you may see the logic in this.
When I talk to people about this, having spend like 20+ years of my life in a poly relationship, I always point out to them that it’s not that we can’t be together like this – we just don’t want to and there’s a big difference here.
Just the same, I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you guys and I wanted to point out that there’s no such thing as loving – and being loved – too much.
‘Love is meant to be shared’ is one of those expressions I never fully understood. I think love is an emotion which is unique between any two people who feel it about each other. While you can love multiple people at the same time, each feeling is different. It’s not something shared in slices like a pizza.
What I was referring to as selfish was Derrick’s feeling that he couldn’t (or, as you would say, wouldn’t) stop himself from acting on any sexual feeling he had, even if that hurt his partner or made things emotionally messy. I still think that’s selfish.
And I also don’t think that not wanting your partner to sleep with others is “keeping them solely to yourself”. Having my boyfriend sleep with others is not something I want; it would hurt me; monogamous peoples’ feelings are just as legitimate as polyamorous peoples’.
It is possible to love too much (if you would call it love); when you allow someone who you’re with to hurt you. The most important relationship is the one you have with yourself.
The final word on what makes me sad: I’ve had a hard time with guys, Kdaddy. Lots of disappointments and rejections. It worries me that, on top of everything else, I now have to let people go who are only into poli. While this discussion is interesting for us to have, you’re never going to agree with my point of view and I’m not going to agree with yours.
And it’s hard enough to find someone to love.
[...] read the blog (http://maxmosher.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/the-man-that-got-away/) and, damn, I really enjoyed it even though it also made me quite sad to see the two of them have [...]
Oh, but I do agree with your point of view, Max; you were right to stick to your decision – it is ultimately about what YOU want and need in your life. It’s just that I’ve noticed the trend of people wanting to be poly over the years – a lot of them fail at it, by the way. All I was saying was there’s nothing wrong with being poly… if it’s done right and for the right reasons and with the right people. Monogamy does work – just a thing that some folks just ain’t buying into it. Being poly doesn’t work for a lot of people who try it because you really have to unlearn everything you ever learned about being in a relationship; some folks can’t do that.
People have problems with people and I’ve seen that guys have problems with guys… because we’re guys. You’re not the first dude that I’ve heard of who’s had this particular problem and it usually doesn’t go well. I really do hope that you can find the love that you want and need!
Or won’t do that, Kdaddy, not can’t. There’s other socially ingrained traditions I’d rather fight than one inhibiting me from having multiple partners at the same time.
I find it interesting that a lot of time I get into this conversation with people who are poli, they start off selling the advantages of it and somewhat patronizingly implying that people would be better off in open relationships and that it’s the wave of the future. Then when you actually argue back, it usually ends with “well, it’s not for everyone.” Very different ideas.
If I’m hostile to the idea, it’s mostly because I’m tired of having that discussion and don’t think i should have to justify wanting monogamy.
I was talking with a lesbian the other day (who happens to be with a guy!) and they have a one-sided open relationship: she’s open, he’s not. She argued that being into poli is a sexual orientation akin to being gay or being straight. I had never thought of it like that before and I wonder if it’s true.
If this is true, can it work alongside the idea that people can adapt themselves to it? Given how many rules open relationships often seem to have, and that it’s more prevalent among certain groups of people, I think it’s pretty clear that polyamory is just as socially constructed as monogamy.
I was discussing this – also with a lesbian – and we were debating whether or not it’s an orientation, a social construct, whatever. What we kinda agreed on is that people need to do whatever it is that makes them happy… if they can. There are problems with being in any kind of a relationship and we agreed that it’s not as much about the “institutions” as it is the people trying to live within them. Is being single better? Hooked up with someone or a bunch of someones? None of the things one can do are perfect and “it’s not for everyone” isn’t as much an argument as it is a fact – it just isn’t and the proof is all the unhappy people doing whatever they’re doing.
Tradition is fine… if it works for you and, for a lot of people, it’s supposed to work – they want and need it to work. When it doesn’t – and for whatever reason – it seems as if there’s no other “options” in life… but there are other options – just a question of whether or not they sit well with an individual.
Whether you’re poly or mono, there are rules – we can’t operate without them and, aye, there’s the rub. People can adapt but, again, there’s that whole “can’t” and “won’t” thing, huh? People tell themselves, “I want this.” Fine. Question is, what are you willing to do to get it? If change is called for, can you change? Do you want or even have to change? My thoughts about any of this – single, monogamous, poly-whatever – is what is the price or limit one is willing to place on their happiness… and should they do this?
Personally, Max, I’ve always believed that people should do whatever’s necessary to obtain that which they want, need, and desire and if you have to break some rules, so be it. It’s because we can break rules that people are bisexual (as I am) or gay (as you are) because this is the way we want and need to be. It goes against the rules and tradition – but it’s still about that which makes you happy, yes?
If nothing else, it’s about awareness; it’s about having options when there doesn’t appear to be any. Then it becomes a matter of whether or not an individual can adapt and break some rules so they can find happiness.
A person can pick a path and decide to stay on it no matter what; maybe they find happiness along the way, maybe they don’t… but if you keep banging your head against a wall trying to figure out why you’re not finding the happiness you desire, what do you do? Do you keep banging your head, just give up on the whole thing… or try to find something that won’t give you a headache because you don’t have to keep beating your head against the wall? What does one do?
Everyone has three choices: Do this, do that… or do nothing. The first two things has both good and bad stuff that comes along with it… but that last thing? Um, that’s not always a good thing if one is “driven” to do something.
Thank you for your point of view, by the way! I love a good intellectual discussion!
Max. I am going to keep this short, or try to. While I am sorry it did not work out for you, I think you made the right choice. I too am one of the seemingly RARE guys that thinks monogamy is the only way to go. Yes, after my lover of 16+ years died, I tried other forms of relationship, but none satisfies my mental yearnings as well. The way I see it, it whould be one on one, and not one a night.
I widh you the best of luck with your future dates, and hang in there, you will meet someone that is as interested in a monogamous relationship.
Darn typos. lol