IF GIVEN the chance, I would like to be monogamous.
In fact, when I was given the chance, I smartly took it, and became monogamous.
But then, my husband died. When I was just 45.
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I still would like to be monogamous.
But as a gay widower in my late 40’s, it’s not easy for me to find someone who would take me seriously.
So I learned to play the flirting game.
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Flirting is easy.
In fact, I think, flirting is the definitive game of this new millennium.
I mean, with the capabilities of the Internet and communication technology, it is so easy to flirt.
There are dating sites, dating apps, even hookup apps!
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I’m an old soul.
I prefer romance and dating over hookups and one-night stands.
But I’m also a realist. A “life is short” kind of guy.
I like to experience as much as I can of this short life.
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I wasn’t always a life-is-short kind of guy.
I grew up as a big romantic. I still am.
But having seen my husband die unexpectedly at a relatively young age, I learned the hard way that it can also happen to me.
I can die anytime. And it can be sooner than later.
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I used to wait for Prince Charming.
But Prince Charming tries my patience.
Now, I’m learning to kiss frogs hoping one of them will turn into a prince.
For me, it is really a choice between the act of kissing and dealing with frogs.
And I found out, I like kissing very much.
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I got great respect for people who can wait. For those who can save their kisses for the “right one”.
I mean, I’ve been there, done that.
But it doesn’t work for me anymore.
I’m okay with kissing Mr. Right Now. And I don’t mind if there are 99 of them lining up to kiss me.
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But I don’t kiss every frog that comes my way.
Or so I love to think.
The truth is, I’ve kissed strange people at strange circumstances.
I’m not always logical.
But I’m always happy. I mean, I try.
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I sometimes regret my kissing decisions.
But not too much.
It’s like waking up realizing you just kissed a frog, and he didn’t turn into a prince.
But you remember the sense of hope and anticipation; the excitement, if you will; and the real joy of the act of kissing.
So, he isn’t a prince. But what a tongue!
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I have several loves.
I got a few good men and women who love me unconditionally. These friends don’t desire me sexually.
Or maybe they do. But we don’t act on such desires.
We are just happy to share a meal, maybe cuddle while watching TV or something like that.
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Then, there are those who woo me over the Internet.
They think they love me. I think I love them.
But we haven’t met yet. We haven’t had sex.
Or, we had sex once. Maybe a long time ago.
And now that I’m a widower, we are trying to rekindle romance.
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So, really, I’m never zero in the romance department.
I got “boyfriends” across the seas. And sometimes, we are even considering marriage.
But I always tell them, if I’m going to marry again, the sex must be really good. Must be worth it.
I cannot marry again just for the idea of romance. Been there, done that.
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Because I am older (I’ll be fifty next year), I don’t want to make adolescent mistakes about love, sex, and romance.
I will not marry for romance (read: companionship) alone.
I will not marry for sex (read: porn-type athletics) alone.
So yeah, I want some love, but I want someone to rock my world, too.
I can afford it, so I demand it.
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Which is to say, I am happy with what I have now.
I can deal with flirting. If that’s all I’ll get for the rest of my days.
And what I can’t get with smarts and what remains of my beauty and youth, I can buy.
Realization: What can’t be bought isn’t probably meant for me.
But in my experience, everything I like has a price.
Although it doesn’t always mean I’m buying!(500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
