Hear You Me

Wow, that was a long break.

I guess it hasn't been much longer than a week, but it still felt like a long time to me. Things were kinda hectic there for a while, and I haven't had a reliable internet connection since I left home...

Where to start?

I stopped and met up with the guy on my way out. That was a bad choice, but I missed him a lot. It certainly didn't help me like him less. He's a really good guy. Anyway, we probably won't be seeing each other on a regular basis because he's far away.

It's just completely unique and amazing to spend time with someone you love, someone who loves you. Life seems to slow down, enjoy itself more. The world treats you differently, better. You connect-- what you find yourself trying to do every day. You connect with someone on such a level and to such an extent that you feel safe, you feel home. Everything else suddenly seems less important, more manageable.

So to tell you that I haven't slipped or faltered in my resolve would be a lie. It would be a lie because this reaches to my core, elicits emotions that are real, terrifying, and completely undeniable. Real because I feel myself functioning on a more sincere level. Terrifying because they conflict with what I'm trying to fight for. Undeniable because they are so deeply woven that I couldn't deny them without denying everything else about me.

I can go on. I can do this. I just wish I didn't have to.

Arduous, right? That's what it is.

Bloodshot

I'm going back.

What a strange feeling. I was packing my stuff up, had the windows open in my room. It was so nice outside. The weather made me feel like it was time to leave-- ok, trying not to sound crazy. I think that that is what the weather usually feels like when I'm leaving, so it seemed appropriate... just weird, cuz it definitely isn't August weather.

Good, now that I'm making no sense and contradicting myself... forget it...

As I was packing my car, I was having flashbacks of the angry, hurt, rushed retreat from Provo in June. I was thinking about what has changed since then.

I really have become a lot more independent... again. I guess the difference isn't in that I don't feel, but those feelings provoke different responses, you know? I don't feel like I'm retreating from home. I did last year. I could feel myself slipping after my mission, and I just wanted to get out to school and be around people who were going to have a good influence on me. I had to leave, so I did-- fast. And then June was most definitely a retreat in the worst way.

But this is different. I feel comfortable, confident. The future isn't more certain for me, but I'm more certain of myself, more certain of my ability to adapt, to survive, to fight. Granted, a car accident could kill me tomorrow, but the point is that this isn't a retreat. I'm finally learning to deal with the thing that I've been trying to retreat from this whole time-- myself. While the problem isn't easy to resolve, it's a start.

I started by envisioning this worst-case scenarios I could experience, within reason: Getting kicked out of school, getting outed, and losing my friends. I thought about what would happen, you know? Like for real. But there was always an and then? And with that, another step. Even in the face of my "worst-case scenario," life would go on. I wouldn't give up, and my life wouldn't be ruined.

So this frantic voice in my head diminished to some incoherent, quiet mutterings... haha, I'm still schizophrenic... not really, but I sound like it? But I digress.

I was so afraid of what would happen, and it was making my life so stressful for me. But then, I entertained the thoughts, my fears, and I'm not so afraid anymore. And I'm not driven and consumed by that fear.

For a change, I'm heading back to Provo with a small sense of victory.

Only Ashes

I had lunch with the smart kid, the friend.

It was good. It was normal. He knew, I knew, but there was no expectation, no mutual attraction (none on my part), we were there.

I liked it. I like the fact that I don't feel like I'm completely insane. He knows everything about me, and he's still there.

This isn't a confession of love for the smart kid... just appreciation, just an understanding of what I've been wanting and a fulfillment of that want. It doesn't change my problem, doesn't make it go away, but it puts it into perspective. It diminishes. This "great, terrible" problem that seems to eclipse everything else I do in my life loses power, becomes transparent or moves or shrinks or something...

It's just nice to look at someone who, knowing everything they know about you, looks back at you and seems completely fine with the situation.

It's the same way with the guy, I should say... but that's still definitely far from platonic, and I guess there's a difference, you know? Or maybe not.

I didn't want to talk about the guy. I just need to talk about it here because I can't talk about it anywhere else. I could've talked about it with the smart kid, but I don't really like talking about my feelings in person. Blogging feels different... I don't know why...

We talked. I prayed the night before-- prayed for help and patience and grace, expressed my desires, my resolutions. Then we talk the next night. It was an especially good conversation? I don't know how to make that sound like it should. But it was. We were saying good-bye. "I love you," he said. "I love you, too" I told him. "I love you," he texted after.

And then part of me felt like I was coming undone. I prayed. I wanted to do good. I wanted to be good. And this happened, and part of me was torn up because I do love him, and part of me realized this was a really obvious obstacle placed to discourage me?

And then, all parts of me agreed that I'm expecting something dramatic and immediate. A change in the way I live my life needs to be made, is being made, but it won't be instant. Weighted, small steps, initially; but, as you draw nearer to the goal, or farther from the start, the steps lighten, the stride lengthens.

Or maybe, again, I just have a skewed perception of progress.

Discursive. I'm having trouble getting it out.

To Repeat myself, maybe: A General Authority speaking in my mission talked about how the only way to get rid of darkness was with light.

He's right. It's so much harder to get rid of the undesirable things in our life simply by focusing on removing them from our lives. Instead, we must focus on filling our lives with good. The light burns brighter, the darkness occupies less space with the increasing intensity of the light.

It starts with a spark, I guess.

75%. Not great, but a start.

Who I Am Hates Who I've Been

I can fight.

I cried. That never happens. It was night, I was alone. I was frustrated-- why wouldn't that feeling go away?

And then I realized something: I was frustrated with me, not the problem. "I don't think this will ever go away, but I'm happier than I've ever been," said the kid-- the smart one, the friend.

What have I become? To make decisions based on appetites and desires is a horrible way to live my life. Instead, I must live my life according to my values... I know I've said it, but I guess I'm seeing it more completely. Living my life according to my values means forgoing those appetites and desires that don't reflect the things that are important to me:

1. My family

2. My Integrity

3. The Church and everything it entails

"Sometimes it's good to feel an external obligation," the bishop said to me. I didn't want to believe him, but I know he's right. I can feel the weight of what my family hopes for me. I love them so much. I value them, and I compromise them by indulging in my desires and appetites. I pretend that everything is ok. I compromise my integrity.

And then there's the church. I fought so hard. I knew it was the right thing, and I was willing to sacrifice whatever was required of me. I spent hours studying the doctrine, hours arguing about the doctrine. My dad sold my car, cut me off, financially. I didn't care-- I knew it would be ok. It was ok. It was more than ok-- it was miraculous.

I felt something that I haven't had anywhere else. It wasn't the euphoric sensation of finally experiencing what I had always wanted... a sensation that didn't last. This was something that permeated all aspects of my life. This was something that made me

Better

Better in the way I interacted with the people around me, better in the way I treated myself, better in the way I worked and lived.

I was right-- the problem was there. It always was. It grew and yelled and screamed, but I felt like I could grasp an unshifting, a stable foundation. I just grasped and stayed still and waited for the storm to pass.

And then I didn't.

The coefficient of static friction is greater than that of kinetic, right? To hold fast in the storm was easier after exerting the initial, intense effort to lie solid, still, immovable. And once I moved, I didn't feel like I had the energy to stop again.

So look, I don't want this blog to be about spiritual gyrations. Like I said before, I feel like I need to give the Gospel a shot. I want you to help me... er... just look for "yes, yes, no, no" at the beginning of my posts. That's the goal.

You know how I signed off on every single journal entry (and I wrote daily, mind you) for three years?

The fight is still worth it.

Suicide Blonde

Do you ever have those "What the heck am I going to do with my life?" kinda days?

I think it had something to do with the fact that I was sick and confined to my bed and the couch. But still, do you ever imagine what your life is going to look like 20 years from now? I mean, I haven't been alive for much longer than 20 years, what is it going to look like?

And then I feel this desire to gravitate toward normalcy... sounds so good in theory, you know? I mean, it is so easy to imagine my life as a 40-something-year-old with a wife, kids, a house with a big yard, a normal job...

What's the cost? What does it take? And then, there's the sobering realization that I love another guy, that I feel an attraction to guys that I have never felt to girls. It's hard to imagine my life as a 40-something-year-old with another man. A family? Maybe. A house, big yard, normal job? Possibly. What is it that makes me feel uneasy?

Ideally, it would be that I don't really feel like that is what I want in life... but that's not the truth. The truth is that I don't know if I would be comfortable being around other people and living that way. It comes back down to that desire to "fit in" and be normal. There are places, though-- San Francisco, for example. There are places where that isn't considered abnormal... places where I wouldn't feel weird...

I drive down the street (because walking is cliche and not terribly practical here) and see all of these houses, families, dads that are mowing the lawn or grilling or kissing their wife, and I curse my situation... myself... If only you could be normal.

Where are you, God? I guess it's my fault, though, and I say that without guile or sarcasm. You were there when I looked for you. Now, I feel like you're silently looking over my shoulder, weeping and wishing you could say something, make me see.

But I can't, don't you understand? I don't mean to condescend. I tried, I fought, I did everything I could. I bent my entire will on living a Gospel-centered life, and I did... But it never went away. It lurked, grew. The better I got at feigning normalcy, the more it hurt to do it. The closer I got, the more pain I felt for the person I am, for the challenges that I'm facing. I can't hurt anymore.

To imagine myself at 40, gay, in a monogamous relationship with a guy scares me because it means letting go of the things that I've held so closely. It means leaping off the cliff. It's easy in the Church... well, relatively speaking. It's easier because I can feel that it's what the Lord wants me to do.

But this. This is rebellion. This is leaping and trusting in myself. And maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but the decisions I make now will shape my future... so keeping my future in mind should help me make better decisions in the present.

This damn problem.

Ok, just gettin the crazy out. Sorry.

A fin de vueltas, as they say, I have more to focus on. This isn't the only part of my life that I should be concerned with. I'm going to live a happy life, and I guess I need to accept the fact that "happy" isn't necessarily "normal."

A happy life, for me, is one that is based on decisions made with deepest sincerity and loyalty to one's values. A life lived to please others is hardly a life, let alone a happy one.

I feel better.

P.S: An addendum, I guess. I talked to the other kid. I don't talk about him much. I've known him since before I knew the guy. He talked some sense into me. I realized that I'm trying to force myself down a path that I'm not ready to take. To choose it because it is what I want is one thing, but to choose it because I'm too tired to fight is another. I shouldn't give up. I'm not ready to do that.

I guess I'll keep the rest of the post on here... for now, at least.

Let It Happen

Well, I'm back from my vacation from Middle-of-nowhere, MN.

I've got this pesky northern accent. No matter how hard I try to get rid of it, it just won't go away. And then I go and spend a week in Minnesota, and I lose all the ground that I gained. Oh well.

"It's cute," he says.

Why do I care what he says? And how does he know when I'm going to start blogging? I swear that the moment I sign into this blasted thing, he calls or texts or something.

Dammit. I get so close. I read your blog, Avery. It was funny because it was exactly what I was about to get on here and write about. Knowing and doing are so frustratingly different. Feeling that I could be ok, happy, peaceful just doing what I'm supposed to do... but it's there. It's always there. It'll always be there. I'm trying to be fully invested, but I can't do it. I can't do it because I can't feel like it is the only way that I'll be happy.

I can't do it because I can't adopt that weird self-loathing, again. It was so painful. I'm getting used to the person that I am and learning to look beyond the fact that I'm gay.

To do something meaningful and good in life is not solely reserved for heterosexuals, you know? I've wanted to fit in for so long. I get close, but not quite. In the back of my mind, I know that I'm not quite fitting in-- that there's a part of me that I feel like I have to hide, shun, fear. And in the dark corner of my mind, it grows, yells, screams, consumes my thoughts, distracts me, destroys me.

But now, I deal with it. I think about it. I contemplate it, I guess. I accept the fact that it exists, that it is a part of my life, and I feel this weird sense of liberation. How is it that I feel more stable with accepting the issue?

I just can't get it out tonight, not like I want to get it out.

He's there, talking to me, and I can't figure out what it is that he wants from me. Hot and cold, you know? And I have the whole "church" thing that makes me understand that this really is a "hot/cold" kinda deal. I mean, hey, I do it myself. And so here I am, wanting some sense of stability. I think that I achieve it, and then he says something or does something that throws me off balance. Not a catastrophe, but it throws me off balance, and I start to reevaluate my position.

I want the moral support. I want the emotional connection, the physical attraction, the mutual love, respect. I want to be able to wake up in the morning and have a reason to go do something great, productive, amazing. Sad, I know. I should have that desire independently. But I don't. I know, deep down, that I would be able to accomplish a moderate amount and feel just fine with that. But I need someone to push me, and I need someone that I want to help be happy.

Gay. It's so gay.

I've stopped feeling the spiritual gyrations. Have they stopped? Am I just numb?

And I have to be honest: When I first met him, I couldn't focus to save my life. It was pretty pathetic. So am I just kidding myself in saying that I need someone that can push me? Could they push me? Should I possess this desire independently? But it's deeper than that, I know. I guess that it leads to some want that I don't fully understand...

Here I am, looking over the edge of a cliff, staring down, searching for the ground, but only seeing clouds, fog, mist. There are no predecessors, no smiling faces to encourage, empathize, guide, counsel. Others may try, but we are the only ones that truly understand our position. So, seeing no bottom, we leap, right? We jump without knowing. We jump and trust. In what?

I would jump if only I could answer.

Sunday Best

Should I brace myself for something bad to happen?

I feel good. My scholastic future is secured. I feel refreshingly independent... I think that the fortuitous turn of events isn't the sole reason for the feeling, but it was, at least, a catalyst of sorts.

I feel like things are stabilizing. My friends, my family, my education, my future-- things that I am thankful for... things that I value.

There's the guy, and I love him (but shouldn't, but do, but... we've already been over this), but something has changed. I've changed. I feel more in control of myself, more in control of my reactions, responses, outlook. My situations-- I can't control them, but I can't be at their mercy. I can't be tossed about according to the wind, you know? More stable, more certain of myself, more ok with the person I am, less affected by the opinions of others.

I have full faith in my ability to establish a happy, successful life for myself and the people that I will ultimately share it with. I can't spend my time and energy trying to prove something to someone. I have nothing to prove to anyone.

There is no chance, no fate, no destiny that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.

I love the quote because I believe it is both true and intensely applicable to my life. My choices regarding my sexuality? Not determined. A happy life? Determined. A successful life? Determined. A fulfilling life? Determined. Then chance, fate, destiny are rendered powerless, right? It sounds so much simpler than it is, but "difficult" and "achievable" are not synonymous.

Yeah, it's easy to write this while I'm currently feeling excellent, but I can't help but believe that it's true, come what may.

I won't brace myself. I'll fully enjoy the situation. And I'll forge ahead, even when things get tough... come to think of it, times like those are some of my happiest memories.

My Friend's Over You

I've gotta blog... not sure why.

I had the overwhelming urge to leave and go back to school. I'm not sure why...

I just had this weird, restless feeling like there's something more I need to be doing... or something that's missing... well, that's the story of my life, but I was more aware of it tonight, for some reason.

The last time I had a restless feeling like this, it was 'cuz the guy told me he made out with someone, and I, consequently, crammed, packed, took my finals, and drove home. That was a different kind of restless. But I guess that in both situations, I've felt like I need to do something different with my life...

Ugh, this isn't making as much sense as I was hoping.

I caught a glimpse. There was a gyration, but not the same kind of one I'm used to having. Tearing myself down, pulling myself apart...

And she just texted me. I feel this pain or longing for something that I honestly don't feel like I can have. If only I could be straight, I would be so happy with her. Dammit. This stupid challenge. I'd take drug addictions or chronic illness or deaths and pestilence or anything else in the world because it would be, in essence, external. As far as the external challenges that I've faced in life go, I feel like I've faced them successfully.

But this internal one...

You can't. You've been trying for the past five (almost six) years, and nothing has changed. This is a part of you, and it isn't going away. This is something you have to accept.

I can't tell. Am I right? Is it? It's way more confusing.

Back to what I was saying, though... I know I've talked about it before, but I have a knack for ripping myself apart, making myself feel worthless. I've been doing better, but I had a brief attack of it tonight. And then, I experienced some kind of mental whiplash. It was a gyration in that regard.

It's in my nature to compare myself to others. It's been good for some things... Scratch that-- it hasn't been good for anything. Yeah, it made me good at music, but at what cost? And now, I base my self-worth on how I compare to others. But the thing of it is that I can't compare myself to others...

Their situations, their experiences, their challenges are different than mine. They may play trumpet like me, they may run like me, they may study what I study, but the comparison ends there. There are a million contributing factors to the situation-- factors that I don't know or understand. We do the same things, but we are very different people.

My self worth depends on factors they could never begin to influence.

Ok. I'm done.