Easter Sunday

A copy of an email that I will be sending out, first thing tomorrow:

Sara,

The shit is really going to hit the fan when I tell them. Let me explain to you what has been happening the past couple of weeks.

A few weeks ago I told my parents that I would no longer be taking communion. I did this for two reasons. 1.) To obey church law, and 2.) to test the waters and see how they would react. In my church, I am required to confess that I hold the church’s doctrine to be true. Any person who has a different “confession” can not take communion. Lately, I have been feeling like I am lying to God by taking the bread and wine under these circumstances. I no longer believe everything the church teaches.

I told them a couple weeks ago that I would no longer be taking the bread and wine. After a long and intense conversation, I thought it would be fine. Even though they seemed to think that I was “no longer Christian.” That event alone was enough to give me pause. Since then, they have not said anything about it. My Dad didn’t even look at me when I stayed in the pew while they went up. I thought things were under control. At least I thought so until yesterday.

As you know, Easter was yesterday. I have always looked forward to Easter service. My family left without me. Yup. They got my sister up at 6:30am, got ready, and left. No one bothered to tell me about their plans the day before. No one bothered to knock at my door. I looked out my window to see them driving away.

I went alone to a different service. After all this crap, I needed to. I’ve got a lot to pray about.

When I finally came home, my sister said that they did it on purpose. I don’t know what exactly my Dad said. I just know that some how I had “betrayed” him. That somehow he was “stabbed in the back.” Even she didn’t get it all because she was taking care of one of our cousins. She just overheard bits and pieces of what was said to my aunt. Sara, this is beyond fucked up. If they are going to act like this because I am following the church rules… what are they going to do when I drop the big one on them?

One of Dido’s songs keeps running through my head:

I just want to feel safe in my own skin
I just want to be happy again
I just want to feel deep in my own world
but I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore

On a different day if I was safe in my own skin
then I wouldn't feel so lost and so frightened
But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin

And I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore

---Dido’s “Honestly OK”

[Sara latter wrote back with an uplifting email that I wish I had saved.]

Palm Sunday and the First Day of Spring

Church was a little unusual today but not because of the fact that it was Palm Sunday. The first thing was this year’s confirmation class. There was only one person this year. The second was that the nursery wasn’t open so Aunt Julie attempted to go through the service with Alyssa and James sitting with us.

I was a little uncomfortable with the confirmation process, particularly considering that I have decided to quit participating in communion. Going through the ceremony, the kid had to profess that what he was taught was true. I winced when the pledge was made to be a part of the Lutheran Church. It reminded me that I had broken mine. I feel like I’ve just stepped out of the mafia. That guy was me just eight years ago. I wondered if in a few years, if not now, he will begin to reject what he has been told.

Poor Aunt Julie. Although Alyssa was able to keep still, her brother James could not. The little rascal was a little to hyper for his own good and started to cry. Aunt Julie was able to keep him quiet but as soon as the sermon was set to begin, she had had enough. So she had to leave.

After my afternoon nap, I went online. No one was in the living room, so I could respond to an email that Sara had written me. She has asked me to keep the details of her letter in confidence, so I will not go into them. But I can say this, it was about her usual problems with Adam plus a little more. As much as she has prayed for me, I pray for her to do the right thing. I will repeat what I have always felt, there are very few people that I know from my high school class that I think deserve the best of life. She is one of them. I fear sometimes that she will end up falling into a rut like so many others here. While I did not tell her to do what I think she should do, I did tell her to think. Hopefully, she will be able to find a path that will lead her towards that what we all want.

I do want to share something that was in her message:

“I’ve prayed a couple times for you to figure yourself out and to be comfortable with whatever decisions you make. No matter what David, I will always be accepting of you and I will always care about you. You’re my friend Man and I am glad.”

Words that I am so grateful to hear.

Looking forward to lala land.

I’ve begun to start having dreams about guys. I guess my mind is starting to let itself go. Perhaps I’ve been repressing it for so long. Quite honestly, all throughout puberty, I haven’t had any erotic dreams about guys except for few times. At the same time, however, I’ve only had a few about women as well. Now the stream is trickling through and I just hope that whatever dam is in my head, won’t break. I’m not sure I could handle the sensory overload. But then again, what little I have had has given me more reason to go to bed early. Not because I want to dream of sex, but because it allows me to be me. For those few minutes, I’m with someone. And that is a radical departure from what I am experiencing in the real world.

The Ides of March

Today's my birthday.

I love Sara. I just don’t get her sometimes. I can’t tell if she really is a good friend but then she pulls off the unexpected. She was the only one that remembered and she sent me two messages. That was my highlight of my day.

It seemed as if my family had forgotten. It wasn’t until just before dinner, that my sister even mentioned anything. The gig was up, and I caught them signing my card in the kitchen. So, maybe they didn’t forget but other than that card, it seemed like a normal day.

The card was:

Things You Can Only Learn From Family:

• Some things just will not flush.
• Eventually, Mom looks under the couch. And under the mattress. Especially if somebody tells.
• Milk isn’t the only thing you can laugh out your nose.
• Burping can be considered a competitive sport.

*Turn the card.*

Family is the only thing stronger than a headlock. –Happy Birthday.

I wonder how true that last one is.

I'm not a conjunction in God's great plan.

I had some interesting words with Kris today. I had casually mentioned some of the feelings that I wrote in the previous entry. I tested the waters with her as well. I had asked her why a person should go through life if that person couldn’t be happy. She said that God has a plan for everyone. Maybe a person’s entire reason for living for was a brief moment in which they will impact another person’s life.

So, my entire reason for living may be reduced to a significant, yet brief, encounter with someone important to God’s plan? Again, that seems unnecessarily cruel to fill my life with such pain, self-hatred, and a whole host of other destructive emotions. I’m sitting here debating whether I should hide and lie, telling them the truth, or just running away.

You know, I want what anyone else wants. I just want to look over and see a partner. I don’t want a friend, or another family member. No. I want to share my life with someone with honesty, intimacy, and love. I can’t do that with any family member, any friend, and at this point, any woman. I can’t be honest with my own family for fear of loosing them and it tears me up. I don’t know how anyone could go through life alone and I know that I don’t.

No more communion

From what I could tell, it appeared that we wouldn’t be going to church today but at the last minute we got ready and went. Kris was at work so she didn’t come with us. While we were driving to N____, I announced that I would no longer be taking communion. I suppose, it is a way of testing the waters of the bigger announcement that I will someday make.

Participating in the Eucharist makes me feel like a hypocrite. Every time that I go up there, I have to ask myself if I really believe in what the church (that is the earthly church) teaches. For the past few years, the answer has been no. I no longer believe in the doctrine. I used to think that this was dangerous. I was toying with damnation. Let me back up a few steps.

I know that I have been touched by God. I believe in him. On the day my mother died, I knew that he had saved my life. I haven’t told many people this. While we traveling I laid down in the back seat. My head was behind my mother on the passenger side. I fell asleep but I awoke because I was having difficulty breathing. The reason was because I had the pillow wrapped around my head and my arms were clasping it shut. This was completely unusual for me especially in the sweltering tropics that we were in. Even then, I thought that it was odd. So I released myself and tried to go back to sleep. The next thing I remember was a violent jolt that knocked the wind out of me. When I opened my eyes, it was dark. I had enveloped my head in the pillow again. It saved my life. I knew soon after, that it wasn’t me.

When I look back on that, I don’t thank an angel. I don’t thank Jesus. I thank God. Throughout my life, I had always prayed to God and never bothered to make a distinction between Jesus and God. And although I still believe in Jesus and the idea of the Trinity, I still tend to focus on the unity of God rather than the separateness. A few years after going through confirmation, I began to think of Lutheranism in relationship to Christianity at large and the other two Abrahamic religions. It distressed me to find that only “true” Christians were going to have salvation. Only a small proportion of the world could fit that definition. How could God permit that?

Last year, I met Binta. She and I ended up having a stimulating conversation about religion. She is a Muslim from Senegal. The fact that she did not meet any of the stereotypes of Muslim women intrigued me. She dressed very fashionably. Her hair was visible. She wore make-up. More importantly, she was a strong, smart, dominant and confident. I instantly liked her and wanted to know more. I learned that my beliefs, in some way, mirrored that of Muslims. First, I placed more emphasis on the one God. Second, I believed that all followers of God (Jews, Christians, and Muslims) could achieve salvation. That didn’t mean that I was going to convert, but it did give me some thought that what if we all have it wrong. In the grand scheme of things, our differences are so trivial that it couldn’t possibly matter to God. We all worship him, just in different ways. It is hard to believe that he would respond to only one group of people.

The core of what makes me a Christian is still there but I can not stand before the Lutheran church and proclaim that I believe exactly what they would have me believe. To participate in the communion, I need to confess to believing in Lutheran doctrine and I don’t.

As to the issue of homosexuality, I am still wrestling with that one. The three religions clearly identify it as a sin. It’s hard to argue against it. Particularly worrisome are the people who have natural inclinations to theft, lying, and such. My natural inclinations are to members of the same sex. Are they the same? Does God expect me to fight my desires in the same way a thief has to fight his? If that is so, then I don’t know why I should continue to live. I have nothing to live for if I can not be with someone who will make me happy. I can never know touch and sensation. I can never experience love. It is a cruel God that would expect me to live life alone.

My Dad called me a heathen. It hurt.

My Paranoia

Since I had a few extra bucks, I thought I could go take in a movie. Sara was still here for spring break. I was hoping that she, Adam and Season might want to go do something. The plans never made it though. Sara never answered the voice mail message that I left for her. When I called Season, she was over at Rachel’s (Adam’s sister) house. Sara was expected later. I went over there early in the evening and ended up watching the second Kill Bill movie. Movies like that don’t interest me much but I watched it anyways. I ended up getting into it, but still I have no desire to see the first or see the second again.

Sara brought Adam in when she finally arrived. They both entered without saying a word to me. For a moment, I was really nervous. Normally, Adam would say something like: “Hey Davy, what’s up?” This time, he had a sort of scowl, a bad mood. Did Sara tell him? She said that she wouldn’t. I kept my mouth shut. It seemed to be the best course of action for the moment. Adam indicated that he had a migraine. Perhaps I was in the clear. It still makes me wonder.

Looking back on it, I guess this is just an example of some of the paranoia that I have to deal with. The fact that I've told someone means that I've lost the ultimate control. Someone knows that I'm gay and can spread it around and there would be nothing I could do about it.

A window to another life

The notion of people developing online crushes always made me roll my eyes. It just seemed ridiculous to me that you can actually fall for someone without actually being with that person. It appears that I was wrong. Well, I don’t know yet. I came across Chad Fox’s blog a few weeks ago along with a host of other guys. His stood out and I’ve been hitting his site regularly for quite some time now. It was him that really got me to look into myself and it gives me some hope that someday I will get enough courage to out myself and have a happier life. I suppose I look up to him. From what I can tell, he is very cool and sociable. Everyone in his vast social network seems to love him. He exudes this positive energy. He also was able to serve his country which is what I wish I could have done. He is a person that I am attracted to. I’m probably not his type so I’m not going to run off to San Francisco to stalk him. ha ha. I’ve looked at pictures of his friends and my God, they are practically models. Yet, maybe there is another out there. I hope so. I’ve given some thought about contacting him. He does seem to be pretty receptive to meeting strangers. I’m not sure how he would respond to me. Plus, I don’t know if he would have much patience for guys that are still largely in the closet. I’ve got a lot to thank him for. Maybe when the world is right, I will.

The three sites located on the sidebar under "Special Thanks" deserve my immense appreciation for they have helped give me hope as well as to see my situation from another perspective. Chad Fox's website, which I had been visiting since December of 2004 was largely responsible for getting me to admit that I was gay. (Apparently, the gay porn wasn't enough.) It made me realize that being gay wasn't a bad thing. I was still going to be me but I would be able to share my real, true experiences and thoughts. I'm not quite there but my circle is ever widening to include more people and soon, maybe I can drop all barriers.

Words can hurt

The Amazing Race started their new season tonight and I was pretty hyped about it. But the actions of my family put a damper on it. I almost left the living room to go watch it in my own room because I was so uncomfortable considering what I have been going through the past couple of days. There are at least three gay guys on this show. There is a gay son and a gay couple. Yes they are rather effeminate and my Dad just ragged on how they sounded. He said, in an unpleasant way, “No not those kind of boyfriends,” and, “Why do they have to sound that way.” Mom just laughed at their quirky behavior as if it was just too weird and pathetic. Kris probably hurt the most when she said in regards to the gay son, “Oh, now she (the mother) has the daughter she always wanted.” If I was going to tell anyone in my family, she would have been the first. She said that had nothing against gays and that was my little sliver of hope. Now I’m not sure I believe her. The whole thing just left me closed up. I’ve heard worse from them, but of all the times—it is really getting hard.