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By BuckcuB
BuckcuB turns, today, to the business of love. Having recently
celebrated fifteen years of togetherness with The Accountant,
'tis time perhaps to tell what makes it work, what it is that can
hold two men together for fifteen years without mayhem,
murder, or too many cross quarrels.
We all know the perennial woe-is-me fellow who goes through one six-month relationship after another. You know, the guy who "can't find Mr. Right," who bitterly complains that the former amour misrepresented himself, who came home one day to find his lover locked in the embrace of another gentleman and broke the relationship off with a furious tirade. Feeling sentimental, BuckcuB knows there's a someone for everyone. If you're willing to do your part. A honeymoon is all hearts and flowers and nonstop sex. A relationship, on the other hand, takes a bit of work!
You could not have found two more different men than BuckcuB and The Accountant on the occasion of their meeting. Bucky was a promiscuous, hard-drinking, chain-smoking "party boy" from a well-to-do family, vain about his looks (Buck was a cute li'l fella in those days) and careless about money (Daddy would always give him some more.) The Accountant, conversely, had slept with exactly one man and only once; barely touched a beer now and then; rarely went to bars or parties; never smoked a cigarette in his life; came from blue-collar factory worker parents; didn't think he was attractive, and (being an accountant) had the first nickel he'd ever made and was not about to spend it. A recipe for disaster, hmm? But it worked. And it's worked for fifteen years. Want to know the secret? When you love someone, you love unconditionally, or it isn't love at all. You'll only end up miserable if you try to put conditions on love. Love isn't an emotion -- it's an intangible state of being which brooks no conditions. So you have to accept that everything in your relationship will not be moonlight and magnolias and gypsy violins forever and ever, amen. Your lover will not always be the tanned waffle- abbed young Adonis he was when you met him. He's gonna get older. So, dear reader, are you. And when the potbelly and the gray hairs (or NO hairs!) and the double chin come tapping on your life's door, you'd better have something more than superficialities to fall back on! Get to know your lover. No, not just what's his favorite color and what foods he doesn't like. What are his passions? What's he afraid of? What are his dreams? What are his regrets? That will all come in a lot handier along about Year Five than a flat tummy.
You will (hopefully) one day find yourself in the marvelous state of knowing that your lover is your best friend, your brother, your ultimate confidante. You will know his moods, his likes, his dislikes, as if they were engraved on the back of your eyeballs. A great many men seem to fear that -- the idea of "being accustomed to" your partner. Such men fear becoming bored with their lover. It is anything but boring, BuckcuB can assure you from personal experience. It is, instead, the most comforting, satisfying feeling in the entire space-time continuum. You want heart- pounding hot sexy excitement? Hire an escort; that's their stock-in-trade. You want the soul-warming contentment of knowing that you are truly loved, instead? Be good to your partner, and take the time to consciously enjoy every moment with him -- whether making passionate love or merely watching television together. You can't buy that paradise for all the money on Earth. As a final example, here's how things have worked out over all these years for BuckcuB: the erstwhile slutty vain party-boy is now a rather slack-bodied fella, who is more concerned about his housekeeping and garden than about whether he's on the "A" list and half the bar is admiring his ass. The once-muscular Accountant has turned into a furry big-bellied "bear" who no longer cowers in corners at parties, and who defied his own frugality to buy Buck a diamond bracelet for the fifteenth anniversary. (No laughing! Even BuckcuB needs to get in touch with his "inner queen" now and then, and a diamond bracelet is a direct channel!) Don't be so concerned about the small stuff, dear reader. In the long run, it doesn't matter. When you find a good man, love him. Keep on loving him, no matter that his politics drive you nuts, and he sneaks off sometimes for a little slap-and-tickle with someone else, and he drinks a little too much at parties and embarrasses you. You don't need to agree on politics. You love with your heart, not with your -- well, what you keep inside your undershorts. And you have likely embarrassed yourself far more than your lover will ever embarrass you. But LOVE! You live once, BuckcuB reminds you. Don't waste it looking for "Mr. Perfect." Find yourself Mr. "Yeah I Can Live With That" and love him. Love him without question. Love him without condition. And you will be surprised -- and ecstatic -- to find that love like that is returned a thousandfold. |
Above all, try your damnedest to learn the gentle art of
compromise, BuckcuB advises. You do not need to have a hissy
fit every time your squeeze wants to do something or buy
something or eat something, which you don't want to do, buy, or
eat. Remember instead that you love him. Shut your mouth,
smile sweetly, and go along to get along. We do things for those
we love that we wouldn't do otherwise. BuckcuB is not a big
fan of running into burning buildings -- but if The Accountant was
trapped in one, he'd be in there like a shot, and too bad about
flames. Compared to that, eating The Accountant's favorite
pickled beets (yuck!) is not exactly the biggest sacrifice in the
world.
© 1997-2000 BEI