THE PRICE OF HAPPINESS

Once upon a time in my life, even though I was a man sleeping with men, I maintained heterosexual relationships because I believed I’d one day get married to a woman. At that point in my life, I never took any relationship with a guy serious because there didn’t seem to be any future there.

But everything changed when I ran into my ex, Gordon (not real name of course). We hadn’t seen each other in years, even though I’d heard through the grapevine that he was married with kids and had a reputable status in the legal profession.

So we ran into each other. I’d come to visit and he was around for a legal summit. We were only too happy to catch up after so many years apart. And as we cuddled in his hotel room, he suddenly began to cry. Sobs wracked through his body uncontrollably.

This was very surprising to me. The automatic emotional switch was startling. Suspecting that this was something he needed to get out, I waited until his grief had abated a bit before asking him what the problem was.

And his response struck a reality chord in me.

“John, I’m lonely. I’m so lonely. I need someone to love and call my own,” he choked out.

This was a man who had bowed to the pressure to get married and live a respectable life admitting to the one thing every gay man fears: loneliness.

In the aftermath of that incident (which happened in 2003), I began to question the authenticity of my happiness. I began to question my reality and what it would cost me to be truly happy. The insatiable satisfaction of getting down with whoever whenever began to fill me with a great dread.

“Is this what I want in the long run?” I asked myself.

Life suddenly became more than just having a wife, some kids and/or an endless throng of male lovers.

I subconsciously decided to dare to live a life I can love.

And a few nights ago, after over 10 years of not communicating with Gordon, we found each other again. He had aged gracefully; still had his smiling eyes and husky voice. But his story of loneliness hadn’t changed.

However, this time, he’d made up his mind to leave his wife and kids as well as his very thriving profession to seek asylum.

And he’s not the only one I know who’s making drastic decisions to seek happiness. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine succeeded in relocating his entire family to the UK and spent over £500,000 to do so. All just so he could have his own space and life.

I am currently a 35-year-old man with peers, most of whom (both gay and straight) are married or getting married to females and raising families. But in as much as I get agitated sometimes and a bit too conscious of other people’s (especially my gay peers) decisions to start families, I remind myself that happiness sought for down that route comes at a high price and only the few are brave enough to pay it.

And I am among the few.

Written by John Alex