I saw you again today, but we passed without a word. I would like to love you if only I could get to know you. We shared our bodies in the dark last night. Who are you? Why can't we talk? Why are you afraid of me? Why do I fear you? Our bodies are as electrical magnets activating with the absence of the sun. Small talk passes time but still I don't know you. I long to reach inside you, to embrace your soul, to hold it close to me. I want it to enmesh with mine and together embrace the world. But an invisible barrier keeps me alone, apart and away from you, whoever you are.
In the daylight we struggle at survival. We put on a mask of respectability and play at the game of power. At night a different game is played with a different mask. And, once again, we come together in physical ecstasy. Physically satisfied, we part. But the emotions scream "This is not enough;" weeping, struggling, we change masks. Forever are we asking why must we part? Why do we fear? Why can not our minds join in the ecstasy our bodies share? Why must we pass in silence in the light of day? Why? Why? I could love you if only I knew you. You could love me if you knew me.
But, the problem is fear. Not the fear of physical abuse or even death, if that were the case, we would not frequent the places of the night. No, it is a fear that goes much deeper, cutting to the very essence of my being. It is the fear of being found wanting, of not measuring up, of being less than a man.
From birth my path was laid out with the indoctrination of how a man is to act; don't' cry, maintain control, succeed, be number one. Women are there for your pleasure and to take care of you. Men are your competition. You have to be better than your brother. Show him weakness and he'll take advantage of it and he will win. Sex is a game. Conquering for pleasure is the aim and power is the prize.
Power! Yes! Power is the goal. To have power is to be a man. Man is power and the more power you have the more you are a man.
Pleasure, material wealth and luxury are the rewards for the man with power.
For more years than I care to count I have followed that carrot on a stick called power. More than anything I wanted the privilege of being called a man. I've held in tears until I thought I would burst. I've struggled to stay in control and be strong even though inside I was trembling and yearned to be weak and let go.
I played the game and told tall tales of my conquests in the sport of heterosexuality. And, I struggled against men, all the while wanting to reach out, to embrace them and to open up to them. But that would have been weakness and threatened my power as a man. I could not bear to give up the power and status of being considered a man.
Because we gay men are so used to acting, we act even among ourselves. We play out roles that are defined by our relationship to the straight man. Even in our havens he defines our existence. The roles we act out are macho and camp.
Macho acts out the straight man's bravado, his arrogance at having power and control. It is the conquering hero laying waste to all in his path. But our act is a pretense, a hollow shell. We are denied access to power. We are denied the substance of manhood defined by the straight man.
Camp capitulates manhood and states that we don't want it. In its extreme it assumes the attributes and status of the stereotyped female, a role women themselves are attempting to overcome. Camp allows straight men to stereotype us, find us amazing, insult us at will and to demonstrate to one and all their power over "faggots."
Where do I fit in? Where is my place in society? I don't want to play games and take up false roles which insult my existence as a whole human being. So, here I sit, sexually satisfied and emotionally famished. I've played the game, but, I don't fit. We're struggling to get out of the closet, but, we've enlarged it; tea rooms on a larger scale. I'm a schizophrenic living out two lives. Half of me has access to power. Am I a man? Why do I feel so empty? I've followed your carrot, but my reward is hollow. The straight man stands there laughing, as empty as I, but he defines the world in relation to his own empty manhood. He has institutionalized my closet.
Tonight it will end. I stand here waiting, waiting for you. I am going to reach out to you, empty my soul that you might know me. I want to know you. I want to love you. I want you to love me.
You are coming. I am excited. Tonight we will know and we will love each other. Tonight we will be ourselves and the straight man be damned. But wait. Why are you passing me by? Do we not still attract? Why are you going to that young god in the corner? Is it not I who wants to love you? I want to be more than a body. I want to know you, to love you and for you to know me.
In the dark I feel loneliness and panic. But, it slowly turns to anger and the anger to rage. Mr. Straight man what have you done to me? No more!! From this day forward I vow to bring down your power. I will reach out to my Gay brothers and to my Lesbian sisters, and to straight women and we will bring your power down. We will all share in that power. We will wring from it the suspicion, hate, greed and lust which you have allowed to fester within it. And once again, my brother, I will know you and you me. And we will love again. And we will help the straight man to live with his greatest fear. That fear is that we live inside him. Then, they might know and love themselves and all of us.
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