Learning to Love Again

Well, I feel like this is something of a streak, here... two posts in six months :) This post is gonna be a three part novel.

Part 1: Just a follow-up on the last guy.

Total cluster f*ck. I don't like to use that word, but there is no other phrase to describe it. In case you're wondering, putting together two guys with commitment issues is a terrible idea. I'd get serious, and he'd pull away... then he'd get serious, and I'd pull away. Finally walked away from that. I think some people are better off as friends. As handsome as the guy is, that was arguably the most dysfunctional thing I've ever experienced.

Part 2: Speaking of commitment issues...

It turns out that I have commitment issues. Depending on how you look at this last "relationship," I've either bolted on every single guy in my life, or I've bolted on all but one. I don't want this to be the focus of my post, but it was the impetus (sadly, as you'll see there's more in life to talk about).

I just had a date today with this guy... a year older than me, attractive enough, taller than me (that's hard to come by), driven, successful (doing residency program right now), considerate, attentive... seems way into me. And as I'm dropping him off, I've got this neon "RUN!" sign flashing in my head. Met up with college track kid a few times - Run! Pilot - Run! Research guy - Run! Construction guy - Run! Sports writer, announcer, rugby player, choir teacher, lawyer - Run!

Every time. And it kills me. It kills me because these seem like legitimately good guys. To be honest, the guy I was complaining about in my last post? I know, deep down, that I would've bolted if he had pushed for things to be more serious.

But I got to thinking about it harder today after dropping off this perfectly nice guy. He's just looking for someone to connect with... someone he can take care of, and who can take care of him. There's nothing wrong with that - it sounds perfect to me... in theory... so why do I bolt every time someone gets close? Why do I close off?

On one hand, I think I'm scared. Honestly, on some level, I think I truly believe that all guys will eventually hurt me. And I can trace that idea back to its roots, but it doesn't help much. On the other hand, I feel like these guys are out of my league - I wonder why they don't try for someone better? But on the third hand (lots of radiation where I come from), I don't necessarily know that I'm interested in them. I think I push myself into something because I should be interested in the guy... not necessarily because I am interested. I'm at a loss here. And I'm tired of hurting people. I'm thinking I should jump out of the pool for a while.

Part 3: I came out.

I'm ashamed that this wasn't my impetus. I told my mom and brother that I'm gay. I told my brother first to use him as a litmus paper of sorts... I figured if he fell out of his chair, I'd know to be a little more delicate with others, since I'm not exactly known for delicacy with my family. Then, I told my mom. She's been trying to push me for a while into going back to church. I didn't want to, and she was doing dumb stuff like giving the missionaries my new address to visit me so that everyone else in the damn ward knows where I live now, too.

But mostly, I didn't like feeling like I was withholding a part of myself... I didn't feel like I was being honest, and that made my relationships feel disingenuous. And then I read this quote on my Bloomberg one morning--it always has a quote of the day when you log in. I usually find that stuff to be hokey. But this one was by Andre Gide (who knows who that is?):

It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.

Genius, right? And it made me realize that I valued sincere relationships to the extent that I was willing to disclose that part of my life and risk ruining my "relationships" with people. So I called my mom... I got far enough into the conversation as, "Give me a minute to get everything out and explain it. Mom, I'm sorry... I'm gay-"

She promptly interrupted me. "What? What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry for. Honey, how long have you known? I feel so bad that you've been carrying this all by yourself for so long..."

I can think of five times that I've cried in the past five years. I just never do it. I don't get emotional. But this was one of those times. Hearing her say that made me break down. I'm not sure I've ever cried that hard before. We hashed it out a little more later when I was up to visit. I told her I wasn't angry at God or the Church, that I didn't feel abandoned or alone. She confessed that she struggled with feeling angry at God after I had told her - she said she was angry because she felt like I've had to fight so much in my life that she thought I didn't deserve to have this placed on me, too.

I've known for so long, and I've tried so hard to make it go away. I felt ashamed, felt like I just needed to be more faithful... and I was convinced it would do irreparable damage to my mom if she ever found out. Until that day, I've never been completely honest with someone I love. I turned being gay into a monster. It lurked behind every interaction, it isolated and consumed me. 

But to hear her react like that... It floored me. I was letting her down! She didn't miss a beat. 

I feel underserving of having people that good in my life. I'm skeptical of unconditional love- I was skeptical of unconditional love... I took my deep, dark, evil secret and drug it out into the light of day to face judgment... but she never took her eyes off me. I'm so thankful. I've told her over and over how thankful I am. For the first time in my life, I felt ok--truly ok--with all of me.

I haven't told my dad and stepmom yet, but I'm not so concerned about that. One of my best friends from school invited me out for his sealing, so I told him, too. His response? "I kinda suspected for a while, but I didn't think it was my place to say. I love you, and you'll always be one of my best friends." I ended up coming for the reception.

I know some people will have problems with it. But the people I love? It turns out they didn't love me because they thought I was straight. It turns out I should've given them more credit. And me? When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't see a guy holding pieces together and trying to save face.

I see me.

Save the World

I can't believe this blog is still in existence...

I'm not sure where to start or what to say. To be honest, I've logged on here with a purpose, and that purpose isn't to shoot the breeze.

La Senda Ardua - didn't realize that was going to be the understatement of my life. It's been two years, and as I've skimmed through some of the posts I last wrote on this blog, I've taken a little comfort in knowing that my life has always been dysfunctional.

But the purpose. And then, maybe, we'll get to shooting some shit, OK?

We'll call him T. He's not out (like me... not that I really care... although it is about time, though I won't address it right now, as we're wayyyy too early in the story for that kinda digression), which is fine. Older than me. Handsome, chiseled, muscular, blue eyes, kinda rugged/outdoorsy... this guy is nearly the absolute most deadly combination of physical characteristics I could ask for in a guy.

But that part I can handle. I can keep my heart locked up. Insert weak moment, sweet guy, defenses down. The guy treated me like the center of his universe... like I was the most important thing in his life at any given time. I was melted.

THEN there was this tire-screeching, no-signal-U-turn, the-house-suddenly-lost-power kinda change that left me flat on my ass. I had fallen for a guy who was gone and replaced by a distant, fickle impostor. The worst thing is that you can't just flip a switch once you fall like that... I was left feeling like I was fighting a losing battle, salvaging something that only I was interested in.

It made me think back on the time I spent with the original THE guy... almost three years ago in March was the first time we met. Oddly enough, our interaction was almost the same, same outcome, same broken heart, same resolution that I would lock my heart away forever.

Same problem... but different guys... what's the common denominator? Oh yeah- me. What gets me? The thing is, I try to imagine a world in which things were different, in which the guy, or T (doesn't really matter) was actually into me still- was there and interested and still treated me like the center of their world. To be honest, I'm not sure how long I'd stay interested for? I mean, maybe it was just a matter of time before I arrived at the same conclusion? And maybe that's just me being pessimistic. But the thing is, I'm plagued by this intense desire to please the people around me... blaming my upbringing on that one... and so maybe the issue here is not so much that I was in love with these guys, but that I couldn't stand the feeling of not being good enough for them... of not doing or saying the right things to make them stick around...

So the problem (for simplicity's sake, really) rests on me, rests on my inability to be independently happy with who I am. Granted, it's not like I'm wandering around, trying to make random people happy... but there are people, on occasion, who manage to pry their way into my feelings, and then, suddenly, what they think of me becomes painfully intertwined with what I think of me...

But people are fickle (I don't exclude myself from this), and, on top of that, I have a hard time trusting guys in the first place, which I think sets myself up for some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy- going into these situations with the foundational belief that this is temporary, that it's only a matter of time before something better comes along for them.

So, as I was laying on my yoga mat in my loft and trying to avoid the inevitable, these thoughts were fighting for air time... and a conversation ensued:

Gotta work out.

Why?

Get back in better shape. At the very least, maybe T will see you and feel like a dumbass for letting you go.

What's going to be good enough shape?

Summer before senior year... when THE guy was still around. You were in good enough shape.

What did I look like? What did he look like?

Hooold up... on a completely skin-deep comparison, you were wayyy better looking than he was.

Then why didn't I feel like it?

No answer. Dammit. I kept thinking. Came up with an answer. Didn't like it. And I didn't know where to go to sort things out... for catharsis... then, I remembered this blog. Please don't think that I'm a complete douche for what I'm about to say - hopefully it's taken in the spirit I've written it.

I was in really good shape back then- got hit on a surprising amount by strangers (always girls, of course... was never that lucky), had a good job, did well in school, worked hard to make sure I had a decent future. I was a pretty damn good catch, yet I never felt like it with this guy... I spent most of my time wondering how I got so lucky as to snag him... what he could possibly be seeing in me. Why didn't I see that stuff in myself? Why do I have such a hard time seeing it now?

At the end of the day, I know I'm doomed to a repeat of this current situation, these terrible feelings if I can't find a way to love myself unconditionally, to be happy with who I am and where I'm at. We're coming full circle here- don't you worry

You should tell your mom you're gay. Yeah, I definitely think I should. I need to let go of this feeling that I have to make everyone else in my life happy. It's an honorable desire, I know... but I truly think it will drive me crazy if I keep this up without being willing to portray myself honestly to them. I have to be willing to disappoint them for the sake of being real with myself, or I'm going to perpetually feel like a shell in my interactions... like I'm never fully present, or that I'm constantly holding some part of myself back. Truth be told, I doubt anyone will actually care... it's more of a pride thing at the end of the day... and I need to get over it.

Aren't you glad I didn't digress?

That's enough damage for one day.

Just Say Yes

Wow.

It's been so long. Believe it or not, I've actually logged on here a couple of times and started a post, but then I've gotten sidetracked and had to leave it. I might go through the unfinished ones and see what I can piece together, but I don't have the desire to do that right now

Long story short, the semester was crazy, and now it's over. I'm pretty happy about it. The END end is almost in sight, but I still have a couple semesters. I lucked out, though, this past year. I had an amazing class schedule, amazing roommates, money, a working car... what more can I ask for?

And then there was the persistent guy...

I guess that might actually be worth updating you on. He texted me out of the blue a couple of months ago. It coincided with my cutting off communication with THE guy, so I was willing to talk.... which led to my hanging out with him and making out... which led to my spending the night... which made this, all in all, an unexpected end-of-the-year development.

What do I feel about the persistent guy? That's a good question. It's what I'm trying to figure out right now. I'm trying to tell if the fact that I'm not completely for it is due to my being a little jaded from that first relationship. I'm generally a cautious person to begin with, and I think I'm coming across as especially aloof, disconnected. I dunno.

And then it forces the very real question of what I want in life- this can't exist in conjunction with the Church, or at least my being a student at BYU.

All the while, this cliche "The Road Not Taken"-style dialogue is playing out in my mind:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the path less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

_____________________________

BUT upon arrival, I understood-

Darkness obscured the sea of faces

The diverging path, the distant wood

The bitter sting, wond'ring if it could

Have led me to brighter spaces.

Facing skyward, set to flight my prayer,

Which brought my spirit 'cross space and time.

The other path and the ending there:

Panged cries and suffocating despair.

My chosen path seemed, at once, sublime.

I am, by no means, a Robert Frost impersonator... and I'm definitely not a poet. I type this to make a point. The way we view the destination (upon arrival) is relative to the antecedent path (for lack of a better word) and our perception of what might have been.

We will, in fact, not be able to definitively know that what we've chosen is correct or the best choice among all available options. This isn't earth-shattering or even important until we are faced with a bifurcate path that will lead to very different outcomes...

Then, the question becomes real: How do I handle this one?

All Again For You

Have you ever seen the movie "War Boys" or whatever it's called?

Don't.

Sorry if this is gonna hurt your feelings, but it is kinda like a good idea filled with a whole lot of illogical events and decent acting. The acting, however, does not make up for the fact that the story just doesn't make sense in some places.

It starts off with these three guys (two white, one Mexican) who chase/harass illegal immigrants as they're trying to cross the border into Arizona or whatever. One of the white kids went off to college and then dropped out and came back. His dad is rich. His other white friend lives in a trailer and has a latina (adopted) sister. Not sure where the Mexican kid lives...

Throughout the course of the movie, you learn that the two white guys had hooked up years before (and then they hook up again... although it isn't graphic or anything). I'll be honest--they're pretty good looking. The three guys hijack a truck from the rich kid's dad's company and drive it out to the desert. It has TVs, and they're going to sell them off to make some money.

The Mexican kid hooks up with a latina who owns a restaurant. She makes him jack off under the table at the restaurant... again, not graphic.

The one kid who lives in a trailer freaks out from making out with his buddy, runs away, sits on the porch all night. His little sister comes out and starts talking to him. He tells her he kissed his friend. She asked if he was going to do it again. He said he didn't know and asked what she would think about having a brother like that. He goes back and hooks up with the kid.

They all converge upon the trailer and open it to find drugs and dead immigrants--apparently the dad was helping them cross the border for cash. Then, people start going crazy, the Mexican kid starts digging in the dirt with his hands to give them a burial......... ok....

Then the dad magically shows up (?) and pulls out a gun (?) and the son takes it and points it at him (?) then the border patrol shows up (?) and a sniper snipes the son (well, hits him in the side), and the kid goes down. The Mexican kid picks up the gun and points it at the dad... for some reason, the sniper doesn't snipe him, and then the latina sister of the one kid magically jumps out of the border patrol car and runs to the Mexican kid and takes the gun and throws it down (?)

What the hell?! Who the hell would go pick up a little girl before making a potential stop somewhere dangerous. Also, how did the maid of the rich dad find out that her nephews were on that truck and had died, and why does the sniper only shoot the first kid, and why the hell is everything suddenly so ridiculous. It was a little dumb--I'll be honest.

But there was something kinda touching about the two friends. I mean, cliche? Yes. But still.

In other news, sat by this kid in class today. He's a cowboy. Like a real one. man...

Don't know what it is about the rugged kind, but they get some mad bonus points. I think it's because my parents did not expose us to that stuff. For a long time, manual labor stuff was hired out. I mean, my parents don't have as much money as they used to, so I've done some heavy labor, but there's still something about guys in that stuff that makes them pretty dang hot.

And that's all I've got for you today.

Stereo Love

It's been a while--I know. I can't believe that time has gone by so fast... seems like every time I turn around, another week has gone by. 

But we're not here for small talk, are we?

An update on my life. Well, persistent guy has been cut out of my life. I wasn't mean, but I was frank. He was wanting something (and pushing for something) that I'm not ready for. When I made it clear that I wasn't going to budge, he kinda just disappeared.

And the original guy (we're gonna have to find a different name for him) is pretty much gone forever, too. I don't know why, but when someone comes in my life and then leaves abruptly, it changes me. With him, he entered, left, came back, left again, came back again, and left (again), and then came back. Well, do that enough times, and you've numbed me to you.

Where does that leave me? With no prospects, yes, but focused on school, work, and trying to get a job at some point in my life. And I'm trying to make good choices. Damn the gray.

I don't see myself as a bad person. Imperfect? Definitely. Very imperfect? Of course. And making good choices is frustratingly subjective, unless it's in the church. I've said it before, but I want to play by the rules while I'm here. It's tough, though. We'll see.

I'm having trouble getting this one out, so I'm gonna just post this for now and try to revisit it later. Guess I have some thinking to do. Don't get me wrong--nothing depressing here. In fact, life has been good. I really can't complain.

Yeah 3x

So I started taking medication for

A
D
H
D.

Wow. Wish I could describe it.

It's weird, you know--it's a stimulant, but it is prescribed to do exactly the opposite. Like really. Imagine yourself playing a one-man game of hot potato (so juggling?) with all of the stimuli around you in addition to a mess of unrelated thoughts in your head. That is life inside my head. It's a miracle I actually accomplish anything.

Slap me on some meds, and I can magically handle and examine one thought at a time for as long as I'd like. Really- I have never felt that way before in my life. Ever. Well, I mean I can hyper-focus, but it's usually the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've never actually made a decision to focus on something and then focused on it.

Whatever. You get the point. I just wish I would've done this like 10 years ago. Don't get me wrong: it's not like I've lived a life of underachievement and lost opportunities, but I wonder how much better I could have done with class, tests, or whatever... Aaaaaaanyways

Got a note from that missionary. Yeah. Guess I only brought up my problem with phone calls in previous posts, right? Makes my heart explode out of my chest. I hate that I get so googly-eyed.

THEN, I got a note the next day from a good friend halfway between home and school. Halfway friend? Is that like a halfway house? What exactly is a halfway house? It's settled, dude: you've got yourself a nickname... albeit a confusing one... Point is, kinda made my day after confusing missionary correspondence.

Not writing the missionary back.

Also, it's Christmas. And almost the end of the year. Maybe this is gonna be a longer post than I was expecting. A year-end reflection kinda thing? I mean, I might not be feeling it a week from now, and beggars (you) can't be choosers.

What was I doing a year ago? Well, thank goodness for this journal. I was watching Criminal Minds with my little sister and seeing that really, really good-looking guy yelling at some crazy (like stabby crazy) gay kid that there's nothing wrong with him... and then realizing that I agreed with really, really, ridiculously good-looking guy... and then realizing that I never look at a gay person and think of it as something that's wrong with them.

Then, realizing that I hold myself to a different standard, thinking that this is the only thing standing between me and a life that would make my parents, friends, family proud... selfless, right?

Haha. Right. A poor excuse to cover up the occasional (read: frequent) jolts of agony I feel for being incapable of living a life that I see as equal to those around me, acceptable in their eyes. It's really just selfish. Selfish because on some level, I'm still ashamed.

Ouch.

But why the bad stuff? I also kicked ass in school this year, survived a high-speed crash, made bank, spent some quality time with my family, finished a retaining wall, made some excellent friends, learned to cook authentic Indian food, wait-

learned you can make whipped eggnog--no shit! Just one part cream to one part eggnog. Then beat it for a long time. Haha- that's what she said. Make some drinking chocolate, top it with whipped eggnog, and sprinkle some cinnamon, and you've got yourself a drink that'll not only send the Christmas Spirit beating down your door and tracking snow through your house (all the while shouting a mixture of slurred profanities and "Merrrrrrrr Chrrstmsss"'s), but also send you into the new year with 20 extra pounds and type two diabetes.

Hands down the most amazing 2010 event thus far. Guess I've got a few days to see if anything else is gonna top that. My new meds came pretty damn close--I'll be honest.

As for the rest of it, I need to focus more on sincerity and less on outcomes, I know. We do our best to push onward and ask for forgiveness along the way because that's the most we can expect of ourselves. And in a world of inevitable interactions, collisions, human contact, I think self actualization lies somewhere around the point when we see through our own actions and outcomes to our underlying intentions. We find permission to seek and grant forgiveness for ourselves... it's a work in progress...

And you? I sincerely wish you a merry Christmas. Maybe we could all sit down to lunch sometime? Share a few hearty homo guffaws over a grilled chicken salad and an apple-tini? That was the gayest lunch I could think of...

Love Like Woe

My mom finally figured out the other night that the screaming on the answering machine was coming from the answering machine. !!! Did I tell you she used to think it was just the telemarketers calling and screaming? Hahahahahaha!

And people would call and be like, "Hello? Oh... got a worried sound on your answering machine..." Hahahaha. Telemarketers calling and screaming?!

So she finally realized it the other night and asked me, "TC, did you do something to the answering machine?" Keep in mind that I cannot tell a lie, and this isn't past-presidential-style folklore "I cannot tell a lie"about chopping cherry trees or whatever--I'm really, really awful at lying. I wish I were better.

"No?" I said, already starting to laugh. I was going upstairs to run away...

"TC, are you lying?"

I started laughing so hard that I cried and then tripped up the last of the stairs and fell in the hall.

Telemarketers? Telemarketers?!