Tuesday, 24 August 2010

This weekend is Pride in Manchester. In my case it’s an excuse to get wasted for 4 days straight. I know, the gays of old worked tirelessly to bring about a world in which events like this could take place. So thanks old gays, you’ve given me the excuse to be all gay and drunk. And gay and drunk I shall be.
I’m lucky; the city I live in is all modern and cosmopolitan. I could walk down the street holding my boyfriend’s hand (if I fucking had one) and be met with little resistance. I could dry hump my boyfriend’s thigh (if I fucking had one and was a whore) on Canal Street and be met by no resistance. But would that make me proud? Am I proud to be gay?
The answer: fuck yeah.
I don’t like being part of the norm; I like having my own little world, my little community that most outsiders don’t necessarily understand. I see a lot of gay bars getting crowded by hen parties and wandering straights; but the majority of my straight friends have never set foot in the village, and if they have it was for the novelty, and experienced with some hesitation. There’s no hesitation on my part; it’s a place I feel completely comfortable. I can talk about whatever I want, to whomever I want, and not fear be concerned about being met with any hostility because of the sexual nature of a topic. And I appreciate this.

As a 21 year old gay male I still have a lot to learn. I’m not socially awkward, but I’m certainly not a social butterfly. I tend to only speak to my friends on a night out, occasionally venturing to friends of friends, but definitely no one further out of that circle. That probably explains why I don’t have a fucking boyfriend.
I’m proud, but I’m not loud. I get it, some gays flaunt their sexuality; it’s in their nature. Their limp wrists, high voices, bleached hair, wide dance moves, and orange skin are how they express it, whether they can control it or not.
Me? I’m the one standing at the bar, tapping his foot, nodding his head, drinking his pint of cider. Get me on the dance floor and I’ll sway and stamp, but it’s not my mating call. I’ll do it to have fun with my friends, not catch people’s attention. I’ll probably give you ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers if you corner me in the smoking area, and pretend I can’t hear you if you shout down my ear in the club. I’m not uncomfortable, I’m uninterested. I’m perfectly happy in my own little world, in my own little group, where we all like each other, and we have countless little jokes that no one else gets. And I know people hate that, which is probably why I don’t have a fucking boyfriend.

But I think I’m ready for a change. The problem is I don’t know what change I need to make. I deleted any gay social networking sites I was joined up to (3) on Sunday. I’ve been members of various sites since I was 17, and I’ve met 2 guys through them, but I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to answer ‘How did you guys meet?’ with ‘I was searching for a fuck…’ I don’t want to know a guys cock size before I know his eye colour.
But I’ve been unsuccessful in finding a guy face to face, so what do I need to change? I think I need to get over myself and be willing to speak to other people. I think I need to change the look on my face when a guy speaks to me in a bar. I think I need to start a conversation instead of avoiding one.

What better way to start this than at Pride. A place full of gays who are there to just have a good time; to revel in the fact that we’re all there, we’re all connected in a simple way. We may not like the same music, or read the same books, or know the same things, or even speak the same language. But we’re all there. And I need to open myself up to the opportunity, the risk, the chance, of finding…well I don’t know what I want to find. Not yet. I’m 21.
I have a lot to learn.

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