Two weeks ago, after a reunion dinner at Puro Ristorante e Bar, I took MT and HT to Heaven Club because they had never been to a gay bar. I think they were quite amused by being exposed to a broad array of Jakarta gays and the sight of gyrating go-go boys. A couple of days after, MT and I got to talking about it and being the sweet girl that she is, she gave me compliments that I choose not to repeat here. I’m already filled to the brim with pride and vanity and to add a mixture of conceit would cause the cup to runneth over.
So I laughed and asked her why. She said that those qualities just ‘show’ and though I am openly gay, I’m not ‘trashy’ like some of the guys were. I guess she just meant that because I was sober I was characteristically reserved. So again I laughed it off and said, “Perhaps. But the qualities that you mentioned are not exactly what people look for in a club, and therefore I’m not what they’re looking for.”
As soon as I said it, I realised that it was true.
The compliments that MT paid me, when packaged into a person, often translate into ‘complicated’. And the market demand for that, especially in clubs, bars, or other typical gay hangouts, is exceedingly low. People neither have the time nor the patience to deal with it. To be honest, it’s so much easier to get men by playing dumb rather than dazzling them with your wit and repartee. Trust me, I’ve put it to the test. People want something light and simple and easy. Plus, I have a feeling that even if they rise up to the challenge and try to know me, most of them would not like what they’ll find. For instance, the last time a guy and I was in a ‘something’, he rushed away from it in a matter of days because he concluded that I was manic-depressive (to be honest I did learn quite a few things about myself from him. Too bad the lesson was cut short). It was a shame, but ah, c’est la guerre.
I am intense in my feelings and thoughts, sometimes too much for my own good. Combined with an obsessive-compulsive streak and a possessive nature, it can daunt almost any man. Now throw in a dose of cynicism, sarcasm, and scepticism wrapped in a tough-talking, arrogant exterior. Honestly, most of the time I feel that after the accumulation of years, I have molded myself into a complete undesirable. Could my fear of rejection and abandonment have led me to believe that it is better to be alone than to risk either?
Hm. Now there’s a thought.
In an episode of Sex and The City, Carrie Bradshaw once said, “In a relationship, when does the art of compromise become compromising?” I’ve often asked that question to myself.
In every relationship, there’s the process of adaptation and adjustment which demands the shift, modification, and sometimes sacrifice of values. I guess Janet Jackson lied when she said that the best things in life are free because there is a definite price to pay for whatever we want, including love and a relationship.
The question is, just how much?