GenQ - For the not so straight individual

Seriously, that was verbatim. That ?lovely? smile remains plastered on her face awaiting an answer. Points for the feigned interest, though.

"We actually met on gay.com," I offer, simply.

"Y-You're joking, right? That doesn't seem like y'that's not romantic at all!" she stammers as her smile drops.

?Oh, but it was,? I laugh as I start to tell her my story.

Our story.

I wouldn't have ever believed it when I first arrived here, but I'm now an Australian resident. After I had landed here and found out the 'friend' I was visiting was a tad insane and that I really knew nothing of gay or Australian culture, I got very homesick. I was ready to go home two months earlier than originally planned, feeling meek, insecure and scared.

Then, completely bored one night, I logged onto gay.com -- yes, I knew of it even in Saskatoon, Canada -- and started chatting with "Sexy1983" on the Melbourne Inner room.

I wasn't looking for sex, and neither was he (even with that name!), and we became fast friends. Sexy, or Andrew rather, became someone whom I could quickly rely on. I went to him when lonely and with my sorrows and he helped me deal with them, through the chat room, slowly moving to MSN Messenger and SMS until we finally built up the courage to ring each other's mobiles. Eventually we met up and went out Commercial Road, where he showed me the hotspots, guarded me from the more...unsavoury...characters about, and was as I coined him, my knight in spandex armour on the scene. I joke now that he made culture lessons look hot long before Jai and Queer Eye.

As weeks flew by and I extended my trip to remain with him, we shared our souls, our lives, and I felt comfortable in myself for the first time. I came out to my family and in general -- I had my Andi and I wanted to show him to the world, not hide him and who I was away.

As we sat in a small cafe planning how I could stay in the country to be together, I realized that I had found my soul mate. I wasn't looking for him, not at 19 years of age, and certainly not on an internet chat room, but I had found him and couldn't bear to leave him. Three years later, and I've never been happier.

My story seems pretty romantic to me. Normal as well. I find out it wasn't to my co-worker as I look up from the picture to stare into her wide-eyed, open-jawed face. ?From the internet?? she murmurs, perturbed. ?But you're so young!? she stammers out, ?and--?

?Gay?? I ask, getting a bit defensive.

She looks down for a moment. ?Well'and monogamous!? she blurts. ?I mean, aren't you mostly just supposed to be promiscuous at your age? Having fun??

I wasn't mad, exactly. I mean, gay guys come up to me and say, ?Whoa!! Three years? That's like thirty years together in gay time!? when they hear about Andi and I. On top of that, I've had more fun with Andi than I ever had alone. I was concerned that this woman had decided to label me not only as ?gay? and ?young,? but as ?slutty? as well. How did she come to that last label? Simply because of the combination of the two labels preceding it.

I open my mouth to retort, and realize I'm wasting my time. Who cares what this woman thinks? I could sit and explain to her that we, as gay people, are complex and different just like anyone else and there is no ?norm? that we feel the need to conform to. We do things our own way ? we do what feels right, what makes us happy, and if we sleep around or commit to a relationship, we can do it with or without the aid of the internet ? and be romantic in any situation if we choose. Some things we do are great, and make sense; sometimes not. Either way, our actions make us who are we and is something worth celebrating, not needing to defend.

I decide to thank my co-worker, and as she sits confused, I begin to type. She's helped me to realize what this article should be about -- an expression, rejoicing in who we are as a culture and in the differences and similarities that bond us together.

One deadline down.