ABSTRACT
A longing for cultural identification and moments of interpersonal loneliness are two things that come to mind when I think about the everyday absence of gay male friendships. At this moment, I cannot name one gay male friend present in my life in Fort Collins, Colorado, the city where I work and live roughly nine months of the year. In fact, my friends often watch me struggle living amidst a predominantly straight community, a comfortable and good life, albeit one mostly absent of out gay men like myself. Although I have several gay male acquaintances through my ties to the university and local volunteer organizations, none are individuals with whom I have established close or long-term friendships. The three I know are either much like me-busy and constantly on the go-or less like mesettled into long-term coupled lives, or quite simply, much more private individuals than I. In the end, however, I simply do not know these men or their lives well enough to call them friends.1
