Solitary not single

Eramosa River this afternoon

A peculiarity about polyamory is that I think of myself more as an individual than with reference to my relationship status. Today during the rehearsal lunch break I went to the new Thai restaurant, Red Papaya, with Bob, Les and Jon. Bob is in the middle of a messy breakup. Les is a confirmed and contented bachelor.

Tonight I'm going with Les to the new bar in Cambridge: Baker Street. Jon is going, but he declined my offer of a ride.

"I'm going freelance tonight," said Jon, the less-than-contented bachelor.

"We'll just call you Lance," I said.

I thought: "We're the four single men."

Then realized I'm the only one not single. I've spent most of my life as a self-affirmed gay man looking from the outside into my friends' stable relationships. Now here I am restful and happy.

Nor do I feel coupled in the traditional sense. In theory I am open to other relationships in an undefined way. But although I don't live with Danny and his priorities are divided, I don't feel anything missing. I am in love, and at the same time have the solitude that suits me: the sequestered writer, the mystic, the lone wolf.