Q: Gay, thirtysomething male in D.C. My boyfriend of three years has been acting strange—not taking his antidepression meds, says he’s feeling weird. He has withdrawn from me, sleeps 15 hours a day, and has been canceling on commitments to socialize with friends. That I am fine with—he’s blue and I get it. Here’s why I’m writing: He was doing an online crossword, and when he got up, I was going to write a message in it—to be funny and sweet. What I saw messed me up. There was a browser window open about meth and depression. He is 48 and successful, and isn’t a clubber or party-going type. METH? What the hell? I snooped further, and there was a detailed search history on meth, meth and depression, meth and sex. He doesn’t seem to have been high around me—and I would never use meth, it’s not my thing and I have a security clearance (no drugs for me, ever)—but I don’t want to date an addict. I don’t want to be with someone who would take such a dumb risk. And for what? Dude! You’re 48, you have a career, a business, and a guy who cares for you! WTF?!? I know what you’ll say: Use your words—and, trust me, I will. But am I totally crazy? I feel shitty for having snooped, but it started innocently enough with me wanting to write a goofy note on his crossword puzzle. —Snoop Now All Fucked Up
Learning your depressed-and-off-his-meds boyfriend may have—or may have had—a meth problem falls into the needed to know/have to do something about category. So, yeah, SNAFU, you gotta use your words. Go to your boyfriend, tell him what you discovered and how you discovered it, and demand an explanation while offering to help. Urge him to see his doctor—whoever prescribed the antidepressants he stopped taking—and go into the convo armed with a list of the resources available to him.
Q: I’m a 36-year-old hetero male, into BDSM and polyamory. I’ve been drinking deep from the bowels of the Internet lately, getting laid more than I ever thought was possible. I’m open about the fact that I fuck around a lot and that monogamy would never work for me. I use condoms with everyone except my primary partner, and I abide by your campsite rule. I don’t want to be anyone’s wonderful husband; I want to be the Casanova who climbs in through the window. Last week, the Internet was good at delivering. Usually I can talk to ten women who all seem interested, but in the end, only one or two want to actually meet. But last week, I had sex five times in five days with five different women. And that just made me feel awesome, turned on, and wonderful. Is there a term for someone who gets turned on by finding new people to have sex with? Have I discovered a new kink? Is there a name for people like me? If there is, I couldn’t find it. Google failed me. Can a person have a kink for finding new sex partners? What would it be called? Or am I just a slutty man-whore? —Dude Drinking Deep
A: It’s a lovely word, Jill—and I’m happy to help you roll it out! v
