Today, a friend asked me to teach his morning classes at a gym in Chelsea. For those of you who do not know, Chelsea is THE gay neighborhood of New York City. The aerobics studio at this particular gym overlooks the weight floor AND let me tell you, I spend most of my time looking out the windows than I do teaching class.

I saw a couple of people I know and waved to them. I also saw a lot of cute boys and men lifting and preening and posing and acting disinterested in each other. For about 10 seconds, I missed being single. I missed having the option of flirting with the cute man next to me working on his triceps. I missed having the option being able to hang out and meet someone who may be Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now. I missed the feeling of flirting with someone and that someone flirting right back.

Then it hit me, I missed my partner of six years going on seven. I missed waking up next to him. He's been in London for eight days on business and I miss being able to hold him. I missed the fact that I would come home from work and there he is, or vice versa. I missed how he would come up behind me and hug me as I washed dishes. I missed that he would then tickle me even though he knows I hate it. I missed him beyond description.

At this point, I realized that I didn't miss being single. What I really missed was having options. I don't miss being ignored by some guy who thinks he is too cute for himself. I don't miss coming home to nobody special. I don't miss going out to nightspots, spending too much to get in, drinking more than I need to, and not meeting anyone interesting.

I do believe that most of us have to go through that so we know how special relationships really are. I do believe that pain only makes joy better. I do believe that no matter how green the grass is on the other side, it does not matter. I am not over there. I am here. And here is just fine. Later.  ¶ 11:35 PM