As much as I hate to admit it, there are two types of gay boyfriends in this world: The Ones Who Cheat, and The Ones Who Don't Cheat. If you are a stickler for details, you could sub-divide them into various sub-categories like 'The Ones Who Technically Don't Cheat Because You Don't Know About It' or 'The Ones Who Technically Don't Cheat Because They Told You About The Cheat After The Cheating'. I have to admit that when I first came out, I belonged to the cheating category whereby the ex-boyfriend is kept in the dark with regards to my after-hours activities. Call me an asshole for not being faithful. But gaydom to any newly out homosexual is all too enticing and tempting to not cheat on one's boyfriend.

I've been gay for eight years coming and I guess like most of you guys, I learnt the gay ropes through trial and plenty of error. In fact, I learnt about the sex before realising that pleated pants are a big no-no for the fashion-conscious gay person. Not that I have a warped sense of what being gay is. But I guess along the way, I somehow picked up the notion that cheating on your boyfriend was something like a norm and that one shouldn't be surprised if the favour was returned. In fact, forgiveness, patience and tolerance were the keywords back then; and they would be mine too if I were to find out my current boyfriend was cheating on me. (Good thing that he isn't - forgiveness can come…after the castration).

Thus, it was with this idealism that I approached my first gay relationship which lasted 37 months (it sounds better than three years and a month). Year One was passionate and overflowing with cheesy declarations of love. Year Two started to get boring and we started running out of ways to improvise and innovate somewhere between the 117th - 146th sessions of sex. Year Three however, was just fraught with scandals on my part. You could just imagine what the leftover month was like. Fists were involved, and not in a 'fisting with jockstraps' kinda way as one critic on my previous column commented. I think I scarred the boyfriend in ways that only another relationship could heal. For that, I ought to be crucified ala Madonna minus the shiny disco bits (because flashing lights give me seizures).

Looking back, I cheated on the boyfriend mainly because I got bored of having sex with the same person over and over again. Not that my ex didn't out-perform himself. I guarantee you that he's superb as a bedding partner and I would enthusiastically provide a referral if he ever needed one. That being said, I like variety too. I mean, you can be crazy about bak chor mee (minced meat noodles), but imagine eating the same noodles every day! Just because I like my sex to involve two phallic objects (his and mine) does not mean they have to be the same two phalluses every time.

Which brings me to another thought: If my parents who have been happily married for 22 years can do it with nary a scandal in sight, then why can't the typical gay relationship survive past a measly three years? Even if they got together only because of me (I'm 23 this year, do the scandalous math), they stuck with it for more than two decades, which puts me and my ex's 37 month record to shame. The love I have for my fellow man can be just as pure and universal as the love a man has for a woman. So why can't gay men keep their willies in their pants? Or maybe I should be asking, "What's love got to do with it?"

Truth be told, I've always felt that boy-boy love is just more fraught with trials and tribulations. Not only do you fight to get accepted by the general public, sometimes you even have to fight to get accepted for being who you are in the gay circle. How many times have we heard nasty gossip going round about the hot guy with the fugly boyfriend? Or the spring chicken going out with the grandfather? Or the Asian and his Caucasian boyfriend? So maybe all this pressure gets to us, and we resolve it through…promiscuity?

And who amongst us is truly innocent? We wear out tightest best to the gym and the clubs. We are religious disciples who worship at The Temple of Free Weights. We preen and pimp ourselves out, subjecting ourselves to never-ending beautification regimes and self-improvement rituals, not just for our boyfriends, but also in the hope of looking hot to random strangers and the world at large. Okay, maybe I speak only for myself. But even happily attached or "married" men with partners have been known to flirt with me. So what happened to being faithful? Are men biologically incapable of not wanting to sow their wild oats? Are two gay men simply just double the trouble?

Well, eight years down the pink and glittery road to being gay, I guess I've had my fair share of bad relationships and cheating men to spot a good deal when I see one. The current boyfriend (#3, and hopefully the last) intends to stay faithful, if not forever, then at least for now. And oddly enough (given my history), so do I. True, the never-ending temptation of the dirty SMSes and hot men at the clubs are still there, but I've found my perfect dish, and he tastes different everytime I eat him. And right now, that's all the variety I need.

Jonathan Zhang has been gay for eight years, a nurse for four, attached and not cheating for three (months), and pretty much one of low-intellect for like, ever. You can read the combined average of the above in his blog at www.spankthemalenurse.blogspot.com Ah Men! will be updated every Sunday..