I don’t know if it’s because I’m a gay man, or because I’m Indian…or because I’m both, that the word ‘settling’ has never had such a negative connotation to it.
While it’s social suicide to say that in the circles I move within, it really is something that I believe in. My surroundings as a child gave me the idea that settling is not so much giving up and cashing in the closest thing you have. It’s more of just taking whatever you have at the moment and making the most of it.
I say all these things but like most people, when push comes to shove I react completely differently.
Just a few months ago I met the man I thought was perfect for me. He had every box ticked. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was smart, funny, and had good taste in music and literature. He carried himself very well; spoke more than two languages and best of all…a Ceylonese boy. Jackpot, yes?
No.
After the first two somewhat blissful months, the perfection started to melt off like pharmacy-brand make-up in Malaysian weather. This man whom I strived for years to meet ended up, like most men, a total douche bag. He was in a relationship with someone else – and had been in that relationship for three years.
Long story short that was the end of a tumultuous two months. What does this have to do with settling?
A few weeks ago I bumped into an old friend, BMan. We’ve been friends for a good four years, and BMan’s had a crush on me for three of the four.
I’m not condoning it, nor am I saying it’s the right thing to do. I’m not settling with BMan. I’m simply exploring options that I usually wouldn’t under any other circumstance.
Is that just a nicer way to articulate ‘settling?’ I don’t think so.
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