A trip to watch London gay pride

"Did you know that it's London gay pride day next Saturday?" asks my friend T, when we were cuddling in bed one morning about ten days ago.

"Oh really?" I reply, "Actually I didn't know. Shall we go and march in the parade then?"

"... NO WAY!" replies T, almost speechless that the idea of joining the parade even occurred to me.

"Well how about we just go and watch it then?" I offer, snuggling into his naked body from behind.

"Yes, actually I'd like to see it :-). I've never seen a gay pride parade before!"

"OK great," I reply, holding him tightly, "so we'll watch it this year, and then we can march in the parade next year!"

"In your dreams!"

I don't pursue the subject, and on the day of the parade, we go shopping in the morning before taking up a good position to watch the parade along Oxford Street. It takes the parade just over an hour to pass, during which time T takes lots of photographs.

"So what did you think?" I ask him afterwards.

"It was good," he says thoughtfully, "although I expected more outrageous costumes!"

"We'd probably have to go to the gay Mardi Gras in Sydney if you want to see totally outrageous!"

In the evening we have a party to go to, and as usual when I take a new friend to meet some of my friends, everyone wonders whether T is my new boyfriend. The same thing had happened a couple of weeks earlier when I'd taken my friend who sometimes gets hayfever to meet some other friends. On that occasion, when someone had mistaken us for boyfriends, my friend who sometimes gets hayfever had been quite uncomfortable with the idea. Later on the same night I also heard him say that he prefers being single. But at the party after the pride march, T didn't seem to mind being mistaken for my boyfriend, although of course he had to tell people that we weren't together.

So lying in bed with T the following morning there's just one thing on my mind. Should I ask him to be my boyfriend? And if so, what exactly should I say? And when, but perhaps it would be better to leave it a week or two, and if he does want to be my boyfriend then when should we discuss what we want from the relationship, and does he want to live with me, and what about monogamy, and what about if he ends up having to go back to his home country, and what if I’m always the boyfriend who doesn't exist because he's so closeted, and, and ...

A couple of hours later, we're having breakfast with each other and I simply can't bear it any more.

"Um, T," I start, in a matter of fact voice as though I'm about to ask him to pass the orange juice, "would you like to be my boyfriend?"

Initially he's completely startled and looks away, unable to believe that I've asked him that question out of the blue. But then he looks at me and I smile, and when a big smile comes over his face I know that I'm going to get the answer that I'm looking for.

"Yes," replies boyfriend T, "we should try :-)."

Because he has to go, we don't have much time to discuss anything, but it doesn't matter. I feel so happy :-)))). We'll be able to talk about everything over the coming weeks.

Despite all my concerns and all the angst in my recent posts [1, 2] about "Should I?" or "Shouldn't I?", in the end I was powerless to take any other course of action. I love the guy, so rational thought is impossible! It's all very well being rational when I'm answering the "Dear GB" emails that people send me, but I guess that that's only possible because I'm disconnected from their lives.

"Don't forget," I tell him as he's leaving, "you'll be able to march in the pride parade next year holding your boyfriend's hand :-). That would be OK wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," he says, giving me a kiss, "let's see!"

Sounds like there's been a bit of progress already :-).