Hello, everyone. My name is Jeff. I am a gayaholic.
Like Jonathan Ames, my life is a kipple-specked hodgepodge of Days-of-Our-Lives relationships; likes Ames, it borders on the crazy.
Unlike Ames, however, I don’t share my apartment with a geriatric escort. As far as I know.
And I have this peculiar, annoying habit of trudging through relationship recovery with prayer and spiritual reflection. I spend nights trudging along Colfax after dark, deeply introspective, cursing my insecurities and missing the relationship I just ended. Then, I go home and drink cheap Scotch.
Some nights, I cry sitting on park benches alongside confused hobos. They nod beneath shadows and ask for cigarettes. At least we have regret in common.
It doesn’t help matters that I’m a believer and gay. You’ve all heard the cliche stories before, so I won’t bore you with mine, but the paradox is bright as a drag queen’s tiara: how can I be a true-to-life gay man and go to church on Sundays? Perhaps it’s even more uncomfortable that I would rather go to church on Sunday than a gay bar on Saturday night.
But whatever part of gay culture I fit into (or don’t), I still date men. I curse men. I love men. I dread their superficiality and hate their materialistic indulgences. But I love the ones with feeling and depth, a touch of a emotion and a spot of class. Nothing too elegant (I don’t have the wardrobe for that), but genuine, honest, and true.
I would like to believe I fit that mold–most days. Not that I’ve perfected it, but that I’m endeavoring to live it. And while the adventures of a faithful gay man is not always something to write home about, I don’t know that anyone has offered a personal reflection on breaking up as a faithful gay man. Whatever that looks like, it must be part satire, part drama, part exhibitionism, and part self-indulgent drama queenery.
Whatever that looks like, this is it: an all-too-revealing look at how I have spent my breakups as a gay Lutheran (and once, a gay Catholic). Yes, I will change names to protect the innocent (and not so innocent), but what happens beyond this introduction is real. Really real.
Take a deep breath, and prepare yourself.