With marriage being a relatively new possibility for many queer couples, Colin Daly considers how non-monogamy fits into the traditional practice.

As the song goes, “What is love? Does anybody love anybody anyway?” Well, let me answer that question. First, the second part: Yes, in my opinion, people do, definitely, love other people.

As for the first part, it is my experience that loving somebody is an emotional and psychological feeling of attraction and affection towards someone that makes you want to protect them and be with them forever. It is not the white-hot fires of desire that we experience at the beginning of a relationship. It is washing someone’s dirty pants for the millionth time, and not complaining about it; the mundane and prosaic acts of getting on with our lives in concert and harmony with our chosen life partner. It is, if you like, a connection.

I’ll come straight out with it: To all the men I’ve loved in my life – gay, straight, bisexual, anything –I still love you. That might sound odd. I realise that for a lot of people, breaking up is the final act of a failed relationship, and in many cases the parties may even hate one another forever. But for me, there is always a lingering affection and even a shade of love, once the dust has settled.

Of course, all situations are different, and I am pretty sure that none of the straight men that I ever fell in love with were even remotely aware of what was going on inside my fevered and febrile mind. Still, with one exception, I was never the one to instigate the ending of a relationship. I always clung on in there.

So, when asked the question of “why didn’t you throw him/his belongings onto the street?” my answer is always the same: “I didn’t stop loving him. He stopped loving me. Why would I do that to someone I love?”

For queer people, the scaffolding of love may be different to that of straight people. Same-sex marriage is a very recent institution. For those of my generation, and younger, marriage was not an option, so you had to commit to one another on an informal basis.

I remember that gay relationships were referred to as ‘affairs’ within the community. Not a very eloquent word for it, but it filled a gap in the lexicon. Same-sex marriage has opened up a whole new vista of relationships for queer people. Before it, people had to make their own rules regarding monogamy and even the depth of relationships. But marriage came with a preconceived set of rules, regulations and expectations, many of which were alien to people’s queer experience.

The concepts of love and monogamy were not, of course, alien per se, but having them imposed on you as part of a package of regulations was. We were suddenly expected to conform to what can be, on occasion, a stifling set of obligatory conditions that would be for the good of children rather than the spouses.

Queer relationships can often start off at a point that it can take straight relationships a while to reach. In an episode of Will & Grace, Jack once told Grace: “In a straight relationship, a date might lead to sex. In a gay relationship, sex might lead to a date”. There are, of course, reasons for this; but does it mean that queer love is somehow different to straight love? I don’t think so. Love is love; the rules of the game, however, may differ, particularly when it comes to ‘open’ relationships.

Same-sex marriage is a new possibility for queer people, so it is bound to be put to different uses than it has traditionally been by the straight community, or at least viewed in a different way.

For example, queer relationships can sometimes be more accepting and tolerant of extramarital sex. There can be less conflation of love and sex. Sex is often viewed as a healthy physical pleasure that is one of life’s needs, and can and should be indulged in with numerous partners. This is something that many non-queer people cannot get on board with.

Queer love very often involves not being jealous of our partners sharing their bodies with other people. Usually there are provisos such as “enjoy the physical, but no emotional contact” or “enjoy the meeting, but you must always come home the same night”. These arrangements are not unusual within the community, and the trust required for a non-monogamous relationship displays a maturity and strength that has become inherent to queer people out of necessity as well as loyalty and an understanding of physical needs.

Same-sex lovemaking also does not have the concomitant of getting one’s partner pregnant, and this lends it a freedom of engagement not experienced by our cis, straight siblings, even when they are using contraception. This, almost certainly, in my opinion, is part of what contributes to the air of free and easy promiscuity within some queer relationships.

It is, of course, not the only thing and not something that promotes love, per se. There are people who simply want monogamy for its own sake, and it is always up to the individuals to come to an agreement on what they want of one another.

Some people simply cannot accept this. Some twist and distort queer love into something dirty and unnatural. Some reject it for religious reasons. Some people are just bigoted. We should really feel sorry for them. It must be awful to be so consumed with hatred, jealousy and having all those people living rent-free in your head, engaged in one big imaginary orgy.

But with same-sex marriage, the landscape has been changed forever. Two men or two women can now join one another in a legally accepted, public display of love and unity that puts our relationships on equal standing with all others and long may it continue to be so.