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Life Lessons and Detergent Threats

When a gay is backed into a corner by his anal-retentive boyfriend–who’s harping about his putatively superior decorating abilities–he’ll say what he must to shut down the borderline argument:

“If you’re not nicer to me, I’ll wash this repeatedly with industrial detergent!”

Andy postures in the kitchen corner, holding a mid-century modern chair as ransom. He wins.

But, for good measure, he adds, “And my gargoyle is not kitsch!”

Well played, sir. Well played.

Having a live-in boyfriend is fun. We can agree, argue, subject one another to our respective cold shoulders, throw temper-tantrums, emphatically assert we’re superior decorators (fine, that’s all me), and have stress-induced crying fits. But then we have sex, and all potential slights or work day traumas are resolved. Sex is sort of like The Price is Right‘s Plinko game: Regardless of what chips you bring to the table, you almost always have a happy ending.

With this foray into genuine boyfriendom, I’ve realized that being a late-bloomer works to my advantage. Sure, I’ve been like a camel for a while–minus the hump (ba da bah!); meaning, I’ve been able to go without a lot of things for protracted periods of time, all the while cobbling together some semblance of selfhood and self-esteem. That’s not to say camels don’t have low self-esteem, but you get my point.

Bringing a more robust sense of self to a relationship facilitates more in-depth, personally meaningful conversations, as well as the development of a maturity toolkit to deal with the rigors of relationships: mending slighted feelings; admitting you’re wrong; clearly communicating your thoughts; and owning up to the fact that, sometimes, you’re being an asshole (this is not the same thing as admitting you’re wrong). It’s been a learning process, but an important one. It’s made me more human and less machine-like.

It’s made me cherish the quiet, important moments of sitting there and staring at Andy, each of us expecting or needing nothing more.

One thought on “Life Lessons and Detergent Threats

  1. […] wasn’t until Andy moved in that I learned a critical design lesson: Sometimes, it’s better to let […]

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