Family portrait.

Sigh.

Having trouble breathing...

Lust... too... overpowering...

Seriously, how do you look like this and not have an aneurysm from your own hotness?

In which Google taunts me.

I'm feeling kinda lonely at the moment.

Surely, I've been thinking, I'm not the only gay man who is facing a lonely and desperate single life. Out of interest, I googled "gay and alone", in the assumption that there would be a welter of blogs from men in the same position as me. 

I am so naive. 

Google "gay and alone" and all you get is an apparently endless line of noisy little twinks shreiking "OMG I'M 21 AND I DON"T HAVE A BOYFRIEND I'M TOTALLY GOING TO BE ALONE FOREVER HOW WILL I DEAL WITH THIS!!1!?" 

Then, if you follow their blog to its current post, it's invariably something to the effect of "OMG Trent surprised me with breakfast in bed today because it's our 18 month anniversary! He is soooooo cute and my soul mate and I'm the luckiest man in the world! Love you baby!!!" 

For added self-torture, you can backtrack to the posts immediately following the all-caps one, and discover that after a few more drama queen episodes the blog goes mysteriously silent for a few months before bursting back into life with more of the same, only the complaints are about something else and the "I" is now "we". 

This is the problem. I'm looking for help and identification from the blogs of people who are actually gay and alone forever, and instead I just get a bunch of whiny attention whores who feel gay and alone "forever" because they haven't had a boyfriend for a week. And if I read one more blog in which commenters pat some teenager on the hand and pretend that being 19 and not having a boyfriend is a genuine problem, or is in any way indicative of what their life will be like in 20 years' time, I'm going to hunt them down and beat them to death with their own copies of Dan Savage's autobiography. 

Those bitches don't understand what "forever" means, never mind what "alone" means. 

I do have one friend who appears to be a another genuine "forever alone" man, and while I'd be delighted for him to find someone I must admit that I do take comfort from the fact that he proves that I'm not the only one. My only fear is that, in the past, whenever I've thought, "Well, I may be alone, but at least I have my friend X, my brother in forever aloneness, to share the burden with me," friend X invariably ends up finding someone tout suite. 

Following that logic, what I need to do is get my friend thinking that about me. And then my Mr Right will pop up like a jack-in-the-box.

Of AlphaGays and self-loathing

You may have heard of the term "AlphaGay" - if you google it you get 38 million hits. They are those overachieving, obnoxiously perfect and infuriatingly hot gay men (and, on the stroke of turning 30, gay couples) who lead the gay world and make the rest of us feel deeply, desperately inadequate.

If AlphaGays exists, there must logically be BetaGays. And if we use the 1932 dystopian classic 'Brave New World' as our guide, the gay world could be logically divided into Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas and poor unfortunate Epsilons.

But where is the line drawn? What separates an AlphaGay from a BetaGay, or a GammaGay from a DeltaGay? And more importantly, where do you fall in the spectrum? And even MORE importantly, are you dating, or attempting to date, out of your class?

Please take this handy quiz to determine exactly where you fall on the spectrum.

1. Annually, I earn:

A: $150,000 +
B: $100,000 - $150,000
C: $50,000 - $100,000
D: less than $50,000
E: Whatever the government and my mother give me.

2. The amount of time between the breakup of my last relationship and the start of my current relationship was:

A: 0 - 2 months 
"When Bryce and I broke up I decided to just enjoy being single for a while. Time to party! But then only three weeks later I met Chad at the gym and it was love at first sight!" 
B: 2 - 12 months 
"It took me a while to get over my breakup with Alan, and I'd forgotten just how shallow and endless the dating scene can be. But after a bunch of "meh" dates I met James, and I knew right from the start that I had found someone special." 
C: 1 year - 2 years 
"My last relationship was a disaster, and while I think it was good for us to part I found the dating scene to be a nightmare. The one-night stands leave you feeling empty, and the rejections leave you feeling hurt. I was just about ready to give up when I met Rob, so hey, it's a good thing I stuck to it!" 
D: 2 years - 5 years 
"If I'd known how bad it is out there I probably wouldn't have broken up with my last boyfriend! The endless rounds of bars and Grindr and being rejected really got me down. When I finally met Wayne - a nice normal guy who doesn't take himself too seriously - I grabbed hold of him and haven't let him go." 
E: N/A 
"I blew a guy in a car park at 2am back in June 2009. Does that count?"

3. My physique could best be described as:

A: Excellent. I have a six pack, biceps and triceps that threaten the stitching on my shirts, and a perfect ass. I manscape religiously. I look great without a shirt. 
B: Good. I have a flat stomach and nicely toned arms. I do some light manscaping. I look good in snug fitted shirts. 
C: Average. I'm developing a little pot belly, and I need to get to the gym more, but I look fine in a polo shirt and shorts. 
D: Poor. I have the average body for a straight man my age. So by gay standards I'm pale, hairy and morbidly obese. 
E: OMG. I'm pale, hairy and morbidly obese even by straight standards.

4. I live in:

A: an enviable apartment in the best part of my city's Gay Belt with my man. 
B: a nice place in the Gay Belt with my man. 
C: an okay place in an okay suburb. I'm trying to convince my man to move in with me. 
D: a fixer upper on the outskirts of the city. My man often stays the night. 
E: a tiny cramped flat that I can barely afford. Alone.

5. The man currently next to me in bed is:

A: My husband 
B: My partner 
C: My boyfriend 
D: My fuck buddy 
E: Eric? Or was it Evan? Ethan? It was something starting with E...

6. The last time I went out to an organised gay event, it was the following:

A: Keiran and Orlando invited us to the black tie preview of the new Keith Harring retrospective at MOMA. Everyone was there. Hmmm... is it just me, or is Veuve kind of over? 
B: We were invited to a fundraiser for the It Gets Better Campaign. Lovely venue. Live performance by Missy Higgins! I just wish we could do more for the cause. 
C: We went to the Pride Party after the Parade. Then we had a fight because Greg was staring at some little twink bitch all night. 
D: I went to a gay mixer that I read about online. It was a bit sad - so many lonely old men. But I chatted for a while with a nice Asian guy and his boyfriend. 
E: I went to Meat Market Monday at my local gay bar. I think I picked someone up... I'm not sure... I was pretty drunk.

7. For my last holiday:

A: Toby and I went snowboarding in Austria, then picked up some new furniture in Milan, before stopping at luxury spa retreat in Thailand just to recharge. 
B: Richard and I went to visit his old friend Briony in Vancouver. On the way back we spent a weekend shopping in Hong Kong. 
C: Sam, Craig and I hired a car and drove around New Zealand. Craig was the only one brave enough to bungee jump. 
D: I went to Bali with a bunch of mates. We swam in the pool every day and got epically drunk every night. 
E: I took the bus to visit my sister in Kalgoorlie.

8. Gay marriage is:

A: The greatest civil liberties issue of our time! 
B: Very important for the equality of all couples who love each other. 
C: Something that gay men should be able to do if they want to. 
D: Something to look forward to, maybe, someday, when I meet the right guy.
E: Irrelevant.

9. Most of my wardrobe is from:

A: Hugo Boss 
B: Country Road 
C: Industrie 
D: Target 
E: K-Mart

10. When it comes to being open about my sexuality, I am:

A: Out, proud, and ready to bring in the human rights lawyers if I so much as suspect that anyone disapproves! 
B: Out and proud, but not, like, obnoxious about it or anything. 
C: Out to friends and family, but I don't advertise it at work. 
D: Out to a few select people. 
E: So deep in the closet that you can smell the Turkish Delight and lion shit.

So how did you do?

Mostly As: You're an AlphaGay. Frankly, you can cram your Prada shoes, your french bulldog and your Porsche keys right up your ass. Oh, no, wait, your husband's 10 inch cock is already up there. I hate you.

Mostly Bs: You're a BetaGay. Your life is good rather than wonderful, and you probably think you're pretty average for a gay man. In some ways I hate you even more.

Mostly Cs: You're a GammaGay. Your life isn't perfect, but you're content enough. You really have nothing to complain about.

Mostly Ds: You're a DeltaGay. You have plenty to complain about, but it could be worse. If you're lucky, and patient, you may one day find happiness.

Mostly Es: You're an EpsilonGay. You're the Special Needs kid of the gay world. Your life is sad and awful. For heaven's sake, come out, get to the gym and find a job! You may yet be able to drag yourself up to be a Delta.

An odd development.

Just lately I've noticed a bit of a trend: guys taking pictures of themselves in their cars to use on their dating profiles. When did this become a thing?

And more importantly, WHY did this become a thing? Is the lighting flattering? Does it make them look dynamic and on-the-go? Is it the one place their wives won't find out?

At least I was getting some action.

Over the last couple of months I've been involved in an odd little relationship, which was unfortunately cut short just as it was getting interesting.

He was from Indonesia, here on a one year educational visa, and although I'm not particularly keen on Asians he had a lot going for him. We have a similar taste in music, he's very funny and cute, he was easy to get along with, and right from the start he was very into me. The sex was good and it got considerably better on each occasion.

Oh, and did I mention that he's a 24 year old bodybuilder? No? Well, that was kind of nice too. He had biceps like large mangos carved out of granite.

So he was a nice, cute, funny, 24 year old gym junkie who was besotted with me, even to the extent of thinking that my fat belly is "cute". There was just one problem: he was ever so slightly insane.

It was hard to spot when we were out together in public - he reined in the crazy and the odd little things that slippd out can be attributed to imperfect English skills. But in private, when he relaxed, then it started to get weird. There was the constantly changing life story. His habit of declaring that he was getting psychic emanations off my furniture, telling me he saw other people using them in previous decades. The way he growled like a demon-possessed wolf when he came during sex. And the strange glint in his eye when he was demonstrating his knife fighting skills with my long, sharp kitchen knives, which made me, for the first time ever, worried that I'd let someone dangerous into my house.

After our first sexual encounter, I made a vow never to let him in my house again. But I kept seeing him, because he seemed lonely and deeply anxious that he had to leave the country within a month and return to a home where he had no job, and where expressing his sexuality was dangerous.

However, gradually, as I got to know him better my impression changed. He's definitely odd, but the behaviour that I originally read as deranged seemed to be more a combination of a solitary upbringing and existential dread about leaving the rich, enlightened first world for a lesser country. And as he grew more comfortable with me, he became a little less clingy and a little more relatable.

Then there's the fact that he couldn't keep his hands off me, and constantly told me how handsome I was. And I don't think it was just a line. During our last sexual encounter, I was sprawled on my couch with him kneeling on the floor between my knees, giving me a very adroit blowjob. On the occasions when I glanced down, I'd find him gazing up at me, wanting to watch me enjoying him.

Call me shallow, but the sex was washing away my reservations about him too. I have never had a man who felt so beautiful under my fingers, that intoxicating combination of soft skin over bulging muscles. Although we're both versatile we quickly settled into the roles of me as Top and him as Bottom. He found it easy to come with me inside him, and then he used to considerable talents to make sure that I came too. If I ever thought that perhaps we could take it slow on a date and just kiss for a while, he had a way of ensuring that an hour later I'd be balls-deep in his perfect bubble ass, ploughing him to our mutual gasping, moaning, cum-spattered orgasms.

It was on our last two dates that I found myself starting to fall for him. We went for an evening walk and sat on a park bench overlooking the city, and he nestled into the crook of my arm as we looked at the view and kissed. I realised that I was the Daddy in this relationship... and hey, I was okay with that. I also realised that I could develop more than just the average feelings for this guy.

But it was less than a week after that realisation that his visa ran out and he had to leave the country. He gave me some gifts that were a little out of left field but which he'd clearly put a lot of thought into, and we exchanged email addresses so we could stay in touch. And then he left.

Now I'm back on the sites and the apps, looking for someone new. But when I'm lying in bed at night, it's him who comes into my mind.

Life isn't fair.

Holy crap I just want to climb on top of him and bounce up and down.