For the love of Gay, part une (because everyone knows French is the language of the lovers. Lovers are gay).

For the time being, I live in Trinidad which is a small island in the Caribbean with a big cultural heritage and very big conservative minds, voices, thoughts and lots and lots and loooots of priests.

So it's no surprise that online dating sites - or rather hook up sites - are big business for gay men here. Much of the country's homosexual population is still lurking in the closet like it's 1975, while the ones who are out and living their lives face the stigmitisation that they are not "living on the down low" - a very in-demand trait considering how many men abhorrently administer their very serious intent on only hooking up with masculine, discreet, closeted, married, girlfriended men through a barrage of insulting words on their dating site profiles.

Yes, I'm gay and I don't live the idealised life of Bambi and his thumpy rabbit friend. I don't live in a perfect world where my tastes are as varied as a Frenchman's wine palette - give me scruff, a gravelly voice and a man who doesn't use words like "fabulous" or "ostentatious" and I will probably blush like a virgin whose first pubic hair has just become visible. However, how can there still be gay men living in this year of the Vagina, Twenty-fucking-Thirteen, who believe that someone who lives their life openly and freely (the term "out" grates my nuts. Gay is in, ask HBO) is less than a man? How can there be men who still think that hooking up with people in your twenties, all the way into your forties, without ever knowing the freedom of true love, is "normal"?

I think of myself right now, as I am: a 23-year-old male, living in the Caribbean, pursuing life, figuring out the important things in life (black jeans or blue jeans today?) and gay, gay, gay, gay, gaaaaay. I can't run from it. It's not "who I am". (I know there are so many schools of thought on this one. Is it who we are? Is it not who we are? Is it our dog? Wait... hang on... our dog is really the one who is gay! This has been a matter of gross gay projection! You're saved! Jesus and her 12 girl scouts welcome you into Heaven! Yey, now shut the fuck up and let me finish this post, thanks). But you know what: it's a very large part of who I am. The way I think, the way I dress, the way I comb my hair, the way I speak, what I speak of, who I want to be around, what I watch on television, what I don't watch on television, what I get tattooed on my body - all or slightly in part or maybe probably a very minuscule derivative are affected by the fact that I love cock. The thought of having a job, earning my own money, living in my own house, driving my own car, buying mixed vodka drinks with all the earning I've been doing... the thought of all this while NOT being able to also enjoy the insatiable fact that I am gay makes my knees tremble and I'm sitting down for Christ's cocksake!

Being gay is one of the most delicious experiences I have ever had. I appreciate a woman's ass and tits, albeit in a slightly different way than a heterosexual man (ha, like that exists) may appreciate it (I mostly appreciate how delicately her tits hang in the balance, while admiring the silhouette of that chiffon blouse... oh, wait, is it chiffon or silk?) I can't explain the rush of emotions I get when my palm wraps around a particularly beautiful cock that belongs to a beautiful man, neither can I imagine what it must be like to not care about chapped lips or not moisturising one's face. Ok, I'm kinda kidding about some of these (the kinda kidding that is true and makes you laugh awkwardly because what else are you fucking to do? Just act like you're watching an episode of the Kardashians).

Being gay is fun. And dating a man who is comfortable in that, who owns it, steps up to the plate and can take it. A man whose family members support and love him, whose co-workers say all kinds of fucked up shit like, "Mike can come fishing. The homos like fishing, yeah?" because they KNOW he's a homo, whose 9-year-old niece still asks about his ex from three years ago because she loves his leopard print eye-glasses case - this is the man I would like to date. A man whose life isn't immersed in homosexuality, but whose homosexuality is immersed in his life. And whose only experience being "downlow" is during fucking.

The "I don't want a relationship" guy

In keeping with the general topic of confusing men, confusing male interactions, confusing signals and confused men on the whole, I want to address the very confused man who says stupid, infuriating and hurtful shit like, "I'm really not looking for a relationship right now..."

I can completely understand hearing this the first time I meet a guy - especially if all we're going to get up to is being down to nothing in the clothing department. I completely expect it if we have just met and the general signs I receive are that of a horny caveman with a dick like a rhino's horn and the air of a Fuck God whose favourite hobby is listed as "fellatio" on his online dating profile. I absolutely, definitely and completely expect it from a guy who I have no probable chemistry or commonalities with apart from the fact that we both have penises, they both spurt cum and we're willing to test out the apparatus.

But what about the guy you've dated, who you seem to have a connection with, who makes you laugh because he says things in silly voices and holds your hand in the movie theatre? How are you (and how am I?) supposed to decipher the "I don't want a relationship" line?

The unadulterated fact is that if a guy who I've dated, who I spend nights with, who I kiss in the street and who introduces me to his friends says something like that to me, I'm to assume that all I'm good for is a fuck and good times until someone who he deems hotter and more deserving of his commitment comes along.

And with that piece of information, all I can do is scratch my head and wonder, What's wrong with me?

Except nothing is wrong with me. I am perfectly fine. I am having an absolutely human (which is code for "normal") reaction to being in the company of a blundering fuck-up who has no idea what he wants.

My real question, though, is how can you date someone consistently over a period of time and then have the balls to disrespect their time, effort and intelligence by saying you don't want a relationship? What in fuck's name have you been doing then? Playing handball? What these fuckers need to do is grow multiple pairs and be honest. It's not that they don't want a relationship. They don't want me. And while that may be an 11 inch dildo-sized pill to swallow, it will be alright. It will hurt, it will be disgusting and I will probably hate you but wouldn't it be helpful for me to know the exact turf I am standing upon? At least with all the information I can make an informed decision and feel completely justified when I say, "Go fuck yourself in your own ass."

So why are men so uptight about being honest? "I don't want to hurt someone's feelings," is what a guy I broached this subject with told me. Ok, so you don't want to hurt someone's feelings. But what's next, then? "Well... I just go with the flow." Ok, so you just go with the flow until what? "I don't know."

Oh, well in that case can you point me in the direction of the person who fucking has a shadow of a clue?

I don't care about hurt feelings. Hurt or not, I prefer an honest man who has the courage, wherewithal and insight to know that being truthful about his feelings isn't only respectable. It's right.