A man crush

The first time I ever heard that expression was while listening to a sports radio program. As a matter of fact, that’s most of the times I’ve heard it, in sports talk. There are more than a few definitions on-line of a man crush, meaning a non-sexual attraction between men, like this one on Wikipedia. There’s even a term known as “Bromance“, which sounds a little sick on the face of it.

Having made myself a victim of the general misunderstanding that afflicts so many, I spent most of my life treating “love” and “sex” as synonyms. If we confuse ourselves by thinking one is part of the other in every case, it’s impossible to ever find an answer that makes any sense. I believe it’s even compounded now by all the press given to homosexuality. Being honest, I’ll even admit the subject is slightly uncomfortable for me.

By no means am I homophobic, nor am I gay in any way, i.e., bisexual or other. Matter of fact, with the assistance of the diabetes I never saw coming, an affliction that arrived in 2003, I’m best described as asexual. Maybe it’s a communicable thing and I caught it from my second wife. She was always “not interested” in sex, too. At least now I understand her better.

Before we all grew significantly apart, I knew my oldest daughter, Stephanie, was a lesbian. I never gave the concept any weight because her sex life, no matter what it might be or whom it included, didn’t interest me. Not in any way. I can’t even say if she “outed” herself as we haven’t spoken for years. My youngest son, Tyler, my only natural child, is also homosexual and I can’t say if he’s made it public or not. Same reason, although my intense dislike for him is based on the person he showed himself to be. Maybe “to not be” is a better way to say it.

In addition, I’ve never been a huge fan of the PDA, “Public Display of “Affection”, beyond a non-invigorating kiss. Granted, I always kissed the woman in my life differently than I did with Mom, Grandma, or any aunts, but I never heard anyone shout, “Get a room, huh?” If there’s any part of homosexuality that thoroughly disgusts me, it’s seeing two males kissing, in public or otherwise. Some may call that a flaw of some sort in me, but I think it’s gross.

Because of what they are, I can say I have some male friends I’ve come to love, and there is no sexuality involved. It’s simply appreciating them for what they are, meaning a better quality of person than most people I’ve met. It’s fair to say where it chafes on me is the labeling. I can’t understand why so many things in our society must be branded, typed, or classed as “one of those”. I believe I had my fill of that practice when I was homeless from 2005-2009, living in my car.

From a week or so after I was forced to move from my home, about the time I started to look worn and frayed, I fell under the label of “homeless”. As is true now, and was true way before that happened, I’m an individual. Granted, at times I’m more “individual” than most, i.e., a bit odd in some ways, but that didn’t change when I moved from my home. If it did anything, it intensified. To provide an example, I’ll ask a question. Are you the same as all the other “homed” people, which come in groups of good or bad?

I’m just sayin’.

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