When I first saw Ray, he was sitting alone at the other end of the bar. Ray is a “peeler;” he compulsively peels the label off his beer bottle between swigs. A jet-black head of hair atop an olive complexion gave him a dark, swarthy, almost brooding look. I could tell he was Latino – my type! I knew what I wanted. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Literally. No sooner had I noticed him than I was sidling up with my opening line ready to go. “Buy you a shot?” He smiled and said ‘sure,’ so I waved Manny the bartender over. “Two shots of Cazadores,” I said, purposely ordering a top-shelf, lesser-known tequila in hopes of making a good impression.
We downed our shots, our faces simultaneously grimacing in a kind of pain (does anyone actually like the taste of tequila?), then we each grabbed a lime wedge from a small plate of them Manny had put in front of us and began sucking on them. Once we’d killed the taste of the tequila, we had a pleasant enough, if not superficial conversation – never seen you before… come here often?… I’m a computer programmer… blah, blah, blah – and before I knew it, I was following him in my car back to his place.
It was a small house, nicely furnished and very clean. I’d like to think we stopped in the living room for a nightcap, but I don’t think we did. In bed, atop me, he looked into my eyes and took on a very serious tone. We were just getting started when he said, “I have something important I need to tell you.” Anything short of ‘I just got out of prison for murdering my last boyfriend with a melon baller,’ was not going to be a deal breaker for me. I knew what I wanted.
“I’m HIV Positive,” he said, almost apologetically. I nearly said ‘oh is that all?’ but I thought better of it and told him, “I am too, but thank you for having the courage, the maturity, and the decency to be honest with me.” Then we got down to business. I left just before the sun came up the next morning, drove the hour back to my place in Silverlake, showered, and was at work by 8.
It’s a good thing my job didn’t involve operating heavy machinery because I was so distracted thinking about him all day someone would have lost a limb. That night I went back to the bar in East Los Angeles where we’d met hoping to find him, and there he was sitting on the same barstool peeling the label off a bottle of Pacifico. It wasn’t long before we were back at his place, in the same position as the night before, when he looked into my eyes and took on a very serious tone, and said, “I have something important I need to tell you.” Hmm, okay, thought we did this, but okay. I knew what I wanted.
“I have cancer,” he said, almost apologetically. Wow, that sounds serious, but as far as I knew cancer wasn’t contagious (yes, I was at the time that self-centered) and I told him, “I don’t know anything about what it means to be with someone who has cancer, you’ll have to teach me, but thank you for having the courage, the maturity, and the decency to be honest with me.” Then we got down to business. I left just before the sun came up the next morning, drove the hour back to my place in Silverlake, showered, and was at work by 8.
Another distracted day at work and I was off to East Los Angeles as the sun set over the Pacific. Driving down the 5 to the 60, I thought ‘if he’s there, it’s official, we’re together.’ He was there, on his stool, peeling his label, waiting for me. Manny the bartender came over and said, “you guys want shots or…” Ray threw some money on the bar and said, “nah, we’re leaving.” I didn’t even get a drink, but it didn’t matter because ‘I’ was a ‘we’ now, and we’re leaving! I got what I wanted.
Later that night, a familiar scene. He looked into my eyes and took on a very serious tone, and said, “I have something important I need to tell you.” This is getting ridiculous! What now? Maybe he did kill his last boyfriend with a melon baller.
“I have two teenage sons, they live with me on the weekends, wanna be a stepdad?” he said, as he rolled off me onto his back, staring sideways at me apologetically. Um… I… uh… er… well… huh? It was one of life’s inflection points; I knew mine was about to change. I met Chris and Michael that weekend and moved in a month later.
At first, it was like playing house, but with rent to pay, car payments to make, and groceries to buy. We had the usual dramas of begging kids to pick their towels up off the bathroom floor and forbidding tv until homework was done. We did weekend outings, like seeing the Queen Mary in Long Beach or going to Disneyland in Anaheim. Shopping for school clothes and supplies. Dropoff at soccer practice. There wasn’t much time for a social life, which may sound like I’m complaining but I’m not – the whole point of having a social life up till then had been to find someone to not have a social life with.
I’m sure traditional couples run into this too, but when it’s all about the kids, the adults’ relationship suffers, and that’s what happened with Ray and me. Ray was a loving and devoted parent, but a neglectful and distant partner. I always felt like I was in competition with the kids for his attention (and affection). I was in their house, so I knew it was me who had to leave. Which I did.
Being with Ray taught me a valuable lesson about myself though. I realized that whenever I had been single I wanted desperately to be in a relationship, and whenever I was in a relationship I wanted nothing but to be single! Sounds trite, but I saw that my obsession with finding a boyfriend was really the mistaken belief that someone else could make me whole, and that when I was with someone, overnight or over years, that ‘someone’ did not “complete” me.
Being single again, I learned to pay attention to myself instead of waiting for and relying on someone else to pay attention to me, and ultimately to enjoy my own company. In short, only I can make me whole.
So in the end, it’s not getting what you want but wanting what you’ve got.