A few weeks ago, Rick told me that he was interested in a new boy.  James is his name.  By “boy”, I mean someone younger than both Rick and I.  (James is 25 years old for those who are interested, and now you know what constitutes a “boy” in our vernacular.)

My first thought when Rick told me this was, “He can’t hold a candle to me.”

Your first supposition is that I am jealous of this new infatuation, that he somehow threatens me, yet there is no logical reason for this to be true.  Telling myself that didn’t change a damn thing.

When Rick said he was young I thought, “I’m young at heart and certainly 35 years old isn’t beyond the claims of youth.”  When he said James was passionate I thought, “I’ve known greater passion with you than he will ever comprehend.”  When my friend of a great many years explained that his new love interest was smart I thought, “I’m smarter to a degree that can’t easily be quantified.”  When Rick said James was in shape I thought, “I bet I could kick his ass.”

“You always have to be the best, don’t you?” you ask.

No, that’s not it at all.  I admit my limitations.  While I may excel in one area or another, fruitlessness is reaped from the belief that I am somehow superior in all ways.  I admit that my fight-or-flight response easily translates to a fight-or-fight reaction to general competition.  Everyone is a rival.  They are fodder for cannons of human interaction.  Therefore, every interaction is a rivalry.  The encroachment of any other male on what is otherwise guarded territory exacerbates this reaction.  Nonetheless, I do not take it as an insult when someone is better than I am at something.

Why then did I feel so challenged by James?  My relationship with Rick is well more than a decade old, and we are, in his own words, essentially married.  There are no secrets between us.  “Time away from everything” means time spent with each other.  I am the only one with keys to his house.  I am the one who takes care of his affairs when he’s out of pocket.  We as easily sleep with each other as we do taking a walk.  Again, why then did I feel so challenged by James?

To the quizzical latter, the response is neurosis.  I’m protective of my closeness with Rick.  Usually, I excuse my neurosis with flippant disregard.  I don’t have to be the best despite the false truism that says, “If it’s worth doing, then it’s worth doing it right.”  How untrue that is.

Perpendicular to that train of thought is the voice that says I have no need to compete in Rick’s life, that my place is secure.  Our relationship transcends common definitions such as friendship and lovers.

It was with amusement I recalled a conversation with Libby several weeks ago.  We were discussing Rick and our relationship (Libby and her husband David are always trying to set me up with someone).  She asked me about our history together, how close we are, and a myriad of other parallel topics.  Eventually, she paused and looked at me inquisitively.  I could feel the question welling up within her.

“What will happen if one of you meets someone?  How is that going to work?”

I laughed.  “They either have to accept our relationship or move on.”

The more I thought about that, the more I realized its truth.  Jenny, Rick, James and I went to dinner one evening, and on the way home afterward (Jenny, Rick and I riding together), Rick mentioned that James had heard a lot about me.  We were discussing frames of reference concerning James, such as how long Rick had known him, and somehow it came up that James already was made well aware of our closeness.  In my haste I assumed the challenge occurred when I was told of James; in truth, the gauntlet was thrown down long before that when Rick began speaking to him in volumes about us.

Looking back on my original somewhat jealous reaction to James, I can only snicker about my own silliness.  The idea that he can’t hold a candle to me is actually quite true, but not for the reasons many would assume.  Rick and I go way back.  We share everything.  We’re absolutely secure and comfortable with each other, and when either of us feels that the world is crushing in and we want to get away from the uproar of the world, we choose to spend time with each other.  As Rick once jokingly said, when he doesn’t want to see or deal with a single human being he wants to hang out with me.

There is no need for me to compete with others.  Quite the reverse is true: they are inherently competing with me whether they know it or not.  Casual lovers may come and go, infatuations may rise and fall, but our relationship endures.  Because it goes beyond the confines of conventional relationships, it’s not susceptible to interference.  More importantly, it can’t be challenged because it is so deeply founded and held, and it’s not based on any obligation or expectation that would normally be associated with “significant other” or similar labels.  We just enjoy each other and getting to be as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

I’m not challenged.  I’m not threatened.  I am a man, however, and I originally perceived a possible territorial dispute.  We humans are such silly animals.