
Sure, we bought into this whole “thing” we now know as Gay, but that was because we understood we were lovers of men, and calling ourselves “gay” was convenient. How else is a lover of men supposed to find another man that won't rebuff him in the light of day?
But we're not gay. Gay is a marketing term, a polite civil agreement between the old republic and the gayest among us who finally became empowered enough (and rich enough) to force a truce with said republic, which decided: Okay, you can be gay already! You can have your niches (decorating, theater, hair and makeup, general faggy behavior, empowered lesbians, hot lesbians!), just keep it all rolled up into one neat stereotypical package ... over there.
So we rode the gay wave, said to the world: Okay, I'll call myself gay, and I'll be ... 'gay' ... now can I have my buddy?
But the gay world doesn't necessarily cater to or care about the dreams of our kind (our kind being buddies who are not “gay” or “straight” but buddies who are male sexual animals who just wanna love and be loved by other male sexual animals without it having to mean you've signed on to some preconceived notion of who you are and your “lifestyle”).

We made it to the “post-AIDS, other side of Stonewall, other side of Gay” 21st century. Not that there was a bridge for us to cross, mind you. We snuck our way into this new millennium by way of a backwater swap. But we're here, and as much as we've seen in life, as much as we have known and not known, as much as we have felt, cried, died, dreamed, hoped, prayed, bargained, loved, hated .... as much as we have lived, we still need a buddy and we still need heroes.
Where are you, buddy? Let's be one another's hero. Let's be buddies for the glory of love.