That wasn’t the first time I was propositioned for an affair. The conservations were always the same. Dissatisfied with their sex lives and unable to find solutions, these men ignored the boundaries set by their partners and sought comfort without consent. They wanted to be cheaters.

They would use any and every excuse: She wouldn’t approve anyway; it would hurt her feelings if I asked; I would lose her if I brought it up; she just wouldn’t understand. For some, these make the forlorn call of a sad lonely man whose partner doesn’t understand him. I hear a selfish person who has poor communication skills, poor self-knowledge, and trust issues. For some, these would make the perfect guy to fix up. For me, these are all dealbreakers.

Cheaters are selfish, obviously, because they act without regard for their partners’ happiness, but I think maybe I am selfish, too. Maybe I’m selfish for wanting a week without men asking if slutty me would fuck them behind their partners’ backs. Maybe I’m selfish for telling people to negotiate for the sex they want. Maybe I’m selfish for believing a society that values communication over exclusivity in relationships would have happier, more confident people with better sex lives. Those desires are all selfish because realized, they would mean I deal with fewer men who want to cheat on their partners, but somehow I can’t imagine why fewer cheaters would be a terrible thing.

 “Untitled (Perfect Lovers)”, Felix Gonzalez-Torres

I had missed this post the first time it made its rounds, but when the piece showed up on the radar again, I took notice for its poignant message on love and relationships. There were many comments on the synchronicity of two persons in love, ranging from disavowal of close similarity to pragmatic acknowledgement of love’s imperfections.

A most interesting comment is made at Greg.org. Discussing a homage to the sculpture, Greg reveals a more complex history of the piece:

And at the time of Felix’s death, a 1987 work [officially listed as “additional material,” not work] titled Perfect Lovers, was in the collection of his former partner Jorge Colazzo. It consists of a pair of wall clocks, signed, titled, and numbered, “1/3”.

Knowing that Felix made Perfect Lover clocks for all his boyfriends [sic] throws a layer of complexity onto the typically poignant interpretation of the work: yes, they’re identical and in sync (for now), but they’re also mass produced. And replaceable. You can pick one up at the corner.

This, too, is another fact of life. Many of us have experienced the cycle of love and heartbreak more than once. Though the details of each relationship are different, that initial flare of excitement and the eventual drift apart are similar outlines to every story. But it is not unromantic to have more than one brilliant, beautiful love. Though those clocks may look the same, performing the exact same function, they are still individual, invisibly unique. Love may be replaceable, but the lover is not.

I fall in love about every other week. Many times our clocks drift apart after one night, but some tick in sync for weeks and months. Sometimes, I wonder, if I were more careful in re-syncing, maybe, magically, they could last for years.