the longer i observe human interaction, the more convinced i am that there can never be balance in a relationship.
recently, i went out with a friend because he wanted to talk about relationship woes. it’s a talk that kawadjan would call ‘processing’.
here’s a snippet of the conversation:
‘i feel i’m not getting what i need from this relationship,’ he lamented.
‘but isn’t the joy of love in the giving?’ i asked.
‘yes, but i want some consideration’
‘isn’t that something in return?’
i told him i heard that in a relationship, you take on a particular role: you’re either a gardener or a flower. the gardener cannot really expect much from the flower except, well – to be pretty. on the other hand, the flower expects the gardener to tend, weed, water, fertilise so it can get to full bloom.
he immediately knew his role.
the thing is, in a heterosexual relationship these roles are usually ascribed by society. the woman is the gardener in the home but the flower everywhere else. the makes for mostly a straightforward guide in hitting the balance in a relationship. in gay relationships however, we precariously navigate the role playing and, in my experience, most want to be taken care of. most, if not all, of us in queerdom want to be the flower.
i know i'm courting real unpopularity in saying this but here lies the rub: despite the comparatively clear cut assignation of heterosexual roles, i have yet to encounter a relationship where i say, this looks like a real give and take. what hope do we have for balance in a gay relationship when these expectations are, at best, blurred and at worse, totally non-existent?
i live in hope that what this means is that we take turns being the flower.
after all, the allure of the tragedy can only last about as long as the flower in bloom before it wilts.