RELATIONSHIP MUSICAL CHAIRS
It’s mid December. The yearly chill we all love to hate is slowly sweeping the city. In the gay community a phenomenon similarly sweeps through my group of friends which I lovingly refer to as “relationship musical chairs.”
It goes something like this:
You’re dancing through life in the summer. Everything is but a dream. Music is playing loudly and there isn’t a care in the world. You twirl through September and October admiring changing leaves, attending Halloween parties, and adoring pumpkin spice lattes. All of the sudden, as if a giant truck camouflaged byfallen leaves was coming at you in the dark, it hits you! The temperature drops a cool quick 15 degrees, Thanksgiving plans to see the family you avoid are being made and holiday early shopper sales are advertised at every turn.
The music has stopped.
You quickly turn your head. Using your eyes to scan the room like radar to see the options that lie before you. Some seem t o o f a r o f f to Even consider parking your keester on. Some look so comfortable, but are quickly snatched up by your competition. Then you see that one right next to you. It may look perfect or maybe it just seems like a good temporary substitute, but before you realize what you’re doing you throw yourself on top of it.
You gaze around at the other players, some seated and some standing, with an elated smile. You gleam and laugh partly in relief that you aren’t eliminated, and partly because the end of the game gives you a fun thrill. You continue beaming and giggling this way through the bitterest winter months. As February begins to end you know that inevitably the music will start back up soon. You begin surveying the other chairs for one with a better cushion, maybe a swivel, or some lumbar support. The music plays and with only minor hesitation you jump to your feet giving a last glance to your chair, which at a time made you so ecstatic to have. You begin your circular dance again with eyes redirected to the thrown.
Who knows what will happen the next time the music stops? You may be lucky enough to have been lingering in front of the thrown that you’ve been dreaming of forever. You could meet a new recliner, end up in the same chair as last round, or even be the one standing alone looking back at all of the person-chair couples.
If you are the one standing.
The lowly loser of the group.
The stand-alone single in a vast room of couples.
You stand in disbelief containing bits of jealousy, anger and disappointment, but in the back of your mind you know that you’ll get a chance to take your turn and play the game again next time.
(I am never the guy who has a winder boyfriend, I’m more of a summer love type of gay. But as I find myself becoming more and more jealous of the developing relationships of ice skating and weekend cabin getaways I begin prepping myself for winter hibernation alone.)
Notes
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