I VISIT a lot of people all over the world.
And sometimes, I stay with them for a few days as a guest.
My family in Dumangas used to host relatives in our home for weeks.
As an adult in America, I haven’t really entertained someone for over three days at my house.
Until a friend from Iloilo vacationed in Canada last month.
And on a dare, and on a whim, she flew in to the US and stayed with me in Maryland.
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This is the first time I’m hosting a friend for over a week since I became a widower.
And although this friend is relatively new—we met through my Iloilo social circles maybe four years ago, we’ve gotten quite close starting August last year when I vacationed for three months.
Anyway, we are so close now that she actually checks my horoscopes for me.
And I should say that she looks out for my emotional wellbeing.
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She came in late February, all of winter still.
Although we have some good days with enough sun so we can go around and see places, it’s actually pretty cold.
It even snowed on the morning I wrote this.
But it is what she said last night just before bed that made me think.
She said, Well, in this weather, it would really be nice for you to have somebody to be in bed with.
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And I said, And maybe that’s why I’m thinking of a husband at 50.
Maybe it’s not just a middle age crisis.
Maybe the idea that I live most of my year in Maryland makes me want a husband.
But I am 50.
And I really don’t want to be working so hard for the money anymore.
It’s this money-and-50 combo that complicates the relationship quest.
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I am 50.
I’m not rich, but I do have some money to live comfortably.
I have made some solid investments for my social security.
I have Casa Dom Pedro de Dumangas as a retirement investment.
And if I still have some money and enough energy after 2020, I still think I can do my dream project—the Legacy of Love inland resort and art haven on my farm property in my hometown.
(I have referred to this project in my previous books as The Peter’s Place!)
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I would like to have a boyfriend or a husband at my age.
Some people don’t need it for themselves.
Some people think it’s obscene because their dirty minds just think about the sex part of it.
But I want it.
And my friend, who hardly knows me, but who knows me better than most, thinks I need it.
I want a boyfriend or husband—someone who’ll stay.
Someone long-term.
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Here’s the thing:
I am really a nice person.
And for my age, I don’t look as crappy as my contemporaries.
Even without a face job, most people think I’m at least 15 years younger than my actual age.
I take pride in that.
I just hope my youthful look continues and doesn’t take a cliff dive at 60. Haha!
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So anyway, I’m pretty hot—if I have to say so myself.
But the proof is in the men and boys I attract as my visiting friend can attest.
I mean, we walk around the streets in every city we explore, and she sees how I interact with cute guys that she can easily crush on, too.
But she’s married, so that’s that for her.
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But it is as I said, I’m pretty hot.
As a gay man.
As a fifty year old.
As a lover potential.
If you are still in doubt, you can just look at my Grindr.
Or, the men and boys I find, and get from Grindr.
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For better or worse, I am on this gay social app.
For those who do not know the app, this one lets you see which gay men are geographically near you, and what they want.
I mean, if you are on Grindr, you must want it.
You must want to connect with another gay guy.
And where I am, wanting it mostly means hooking up sexually.
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When I was new to Grindr four years ago, just after my husband died, I did it wrong by looking for love.
I was looking for a relationship in the wrong places.
And most of the people on the app just wanted immediate, and hot, sex.
Don’t get me wrong.
I did the hot sex dance routine, too.
And I was pretty good at it.
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But it was always so bad for me because I wanted to build a relationship with the men and boys I had sex with.
For me, I made love with them.
For them, we just f*cked.
But I always tried to be more than just a f*ck.
I’m so good at “my game” that many came for seconds.
But mostly, they just wanted a taste of the exotic.
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This piece continues as “Wanted: Travel Buddy” on Wednesday.
And I, of course, will be discussing travels./PN
