Craig Chats: I'm In Love

I'm In Love 

9 months ago, I moved into a house I thought I’d spend the rest of my life in, with a man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. There was a dog, petty arguments, zero sex and way too many conversations about groceries. All that was missing was the white picket fence. 

I thought my path was set. 

Today, I’m sat writing this article in the living room of my new boyfriend’s apartment, in a town I’m already familiar with, with a guy I’ve already fallen for. And, now that I have it; now that I’m experiencing the stomach-whooshing, tingling, all-consuming love that I didn’t actually believe existed, I can’t imagine going back to what was.

Last night, I took Sam back to my place (Pete’s), and Pete brought his new guy (also called Sam) back home. And I felt nothing. Sure, I felt like I should have been awkward—but I wasn’t. I felt like I should’ve felt something—but I didn’t.

Did I ever really love the man I’d spent five years with, or was I addicted to the constant battle our relationship provided my otherwise mundane life? Anxiety can be quite the high; the drama, the tension, the exquisite agony.

The cycle of screaming until I cried, only to fall into his arms an hour later, was euphoric self-destruction. It was the best pain in the worst way, and I thought it’s what being in love meant.

Now… I don’t know. I don’t know why I loved Pete, and when I briefly entered the kitchen to grab Sam and I some water the other night, and saw him and his new guy laughing at a show I would never find funny, I really did start to question my sanity. 

I simply don’t know. 

But these articles are never about what I don’t know…not when there’s something I do know.

I know that I’m in love. I know that I have a great, healthy, sexually fulfilling monogamous relationship, and that the thought of going near another man now, no matter how mouth-watering they may be, comes with an added awareness of Sam; a voice in my head going “yeah, but, you have good dick over there and the guy’s great.” 

I don’t think I’ve ever had that before… A conscience. A voice telling me no. A feeling of absolute certainty. And to anyone who was wondering what it’s like going from an open relationship to a monogamous one—it’s pretty simple. If anything, the comfortability with myself that being open afforded me has carried over. 

Last week, Sam and I spent the entire time playing a Dungeons & Dragons board game. And the week before that, we played a Buffy one. We have our own language; a nonsensical string of sayings and in-jokes that must sound like utter gibberish to anyone around us. And I love it.

You know what else I love? That whenever he comes home from work and I’m at his, he brings me a bottle of Pepsi. I love that whenever we’re walking anywhere, he carries all the bags. That if I make a single, disgruntled noise, he immediately tries to find a way to make me happy. I love that he likes what I like, and that he tries to like anything I introduce him to.

I love his goofy laugh. I love his silly smile. I love how I fit perfectly in the nook of his arm.

I love him.

I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to parade this new relationship around because my last one crumbled publicly and I had to address it, but I want to. I want to scream from the rooftops how in love I am. I want to let everyone who has ever glanced my way know that I’m getting dicked down good AND have a great emotional connection. THAT SHIT NEVER HAPPENS. 

So, yeah… This isn’t so much an article as it is a statement. An unapologetic declaration of love. I needed to do this, not for Sam and I (because I’ve never felt more secure about a relationship in my life), but for the Craig of 9 months ago. For the Craig of 6 months ago. For the Craig of 3 months ago, who was so utterly devastated, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel again.

Love exists. Happiness is real. Getting dicked down good by someone you care about is possible. 

PS: I have a memoir coming out soon (That Time I Survived My Teens) and if the exploits of a young queer kid, attending one of the worst high schools in his country while getting spit-roasted at raves and battling alcohol addiction sounds interesting to you, you can follow me here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/craigbarkerbooks/