I'm, like, totally in love.
I have been a bit hesitant to interject such a starkly personal bit of information into my column for a few reasons. Firstly, every time I get all gaga and throw out the BF-word in public, the whole shebang ( or he-bang, as the case may be ) goes haywire. My Jewish friends might call that a kenahora; I call it history repeating itself.
Another reason I have not made my status public ( with the possible exception of my Facebook profile ) is that I want to keep my personal and professional lives separate. I have regarded this column in years past as a function of this nightlife magazine; a simple, sloppy synopsis of the places I've been and the things I've seen and not necessarily the men I've screwed.
And now, I feel like it's time for a change.
With California's recent passage of Proposition 8, amending the state's constitution to define marriage as a union between one man and one woman, our community has become newly energized to hit the streets and fight for our rights. Newly married gay and lesbian couples march hand in hand through the downtowns of our nation's major cities to proclaim that their love is as valid, pure and meaningful as Bob and Linda's next door. Of course, depending on the strength ( or lack thereof ) of Bob and Linda's bond, it may be even more so.
One day, if the alchemy is right as the wind blows in just the right direction, I might be one of one of those proud couples, whose brave public declaration of love might help to usher in a new day of freedom and liberty for the next generation of LGBT Americans. My love has the opportunity to double, quadruple, grow exponentially the possibility that one day all this love might not be such a big deal.
So I give you my love. I give it to you in hopes that you give your love to others, and they to others, and so on.
And I'm not putting in a picture of the new BF. That would be gauche.
