18 September 2015

FOR LEISA, HAPPY BIRTHDAY X

Do you think it might be too much too soon to be looking into relocating to the English countryside after chatting with someone on Tinder for an afternoon?

This is the storyline playing out in my head right now. I was Tindering a guy the Sunday just gone and before the end of the day, I was googling his hometown and picking out wedding venues. Actually, I was googling them during our chat.

He said, "It's hard to meet guys in my town."

I said, "I'm happy to relocate."

I think he provoked this response because he was a nice country lad looking for love. He lives at least a three hour drive from London (totally got the route saved) which would be perfect for me. I would love an LDR. Honestly the minute somebody becomes too available, emotionally or environmentally, I clam up and dive back into the sea. It needs to be a gradual progression for me. If I knew our rendezvous had an expiration date, I would be quite happy to see him off at the end of the weekend down the M4.

So I screen shot all his photos and now I look at them almost every hour on the hour. I know creepy.

I wonder when I became like this. When a few photos and a few lines of brief chat can equate to, in my mind, the beginning of a fruitful relationship. I guess we've all subconsciously done this by proxy when downloading any dating app (maybe not Grindr) and I think we can all agree it's a bit mental when someone else falls in love with just a photo, but can totally rationalise when it happens to ourselves. We all want to believe there is a Disney fairytale out there, even if it does mean a complete geographical relocation.

I once watched a video from the Devotion Project that completely changed my outlook on finding love. It made me hopeful there was someone for everyone. Especially as a gay man. It was the story of boy meets boy in a New York bathhouse circa 1950. Through everything - an overseas army deployment, night school, failing health - they had managed to stay together. Their love for each other was unwavering even after fifty years. I was inspired.

There was a line in the film where one of the guys, John, spoke about entering Bills apartment. The door opened to reveal a painting called The Empire of Light. This was the moment he realised the "light shone" into his life. It was his epiphany and the beginning of their relationship.
I thought about that moment and the painting for a long time. I made it my screensaver. Maybe if I bought the painting and hung it in my apartment, some of their good relationship karma would rub off on me? So I found it at the MOMA in New York, however I couldn't get it shipped to the UK. I didn't realise there are companies that would do this for you, so I just put it aside and then a year later I coincidentally found myself in New York, visited the MOMA, bought the print, hand carried it all the way back to the UK, got it framed and sat it on a chest of drawers in my room in anticipation of hanging it in the next few weeks.

I felt like I had captured the magic John and Bill had created over all those years in a frame. This was going to be my epiphany or the next guy I brought home would see this surrealist masterpiece, have his epiphany and fall deeply in love with me.

A couple of weeks later I went out and got mad drunk, came home, went to sleep, woke up during the night and pissed on the Empire of Light.

I literally pissed on my dreams.

How am I going to be happy if I keep subconsciously wanting to piss all over everything good in my life.

That was my epiphany. Or perhaps my epissany.

#epissany

I also use phantom toilets when I drink.

Marry me.

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