I've been sitting here the last few days thinking about what to blog about when this random story popped into my head.
I believe it was about 10 years ago, the actual year escapes me at the moment and it's not really important, but I think it was the "year of change" as I call it. I had decided during that year to start my life over, to move away and do the things I always wanted to do, to let the past go and move forward. I came to this conclusion through many physical signs and much, much prayer, and everything seemed to be leading me this way.
I had promised God that if he saw me through this time that when I started over I would start over as a straight man, to give up all impure thoughts towards men and rid myself of all gay items in my life. I'm no puritan, I had "stuff", stuff that for my own comfort I will not list here, but I remember them vividly, nothing exotic or strange, simple things like ads I found, gay articles, and playing cards with really hot men on them, things I kept in a box that was locked and burried in the back corner of my closet, my safe place to keep those things that portrayed an evil and dirty life in my mind, a shameful place.
So one afternoon I took the box and snuck out of the house, I was living with my parents at the time, and drove out to a friend's property several miles away. The whole way there I had second thoughts, I was battling with myself of who I was and who I thought everyone wanted me to be, I prayed for strength to start over, for God to guide me to path of forgiveness that he would love me like all of his other children, to grant me a life of normality and a life to make my family proud. I found the strength to get to the property and took my box of evil and approached the fire pit.
I sat down in the grass next to the pit and laid my box inside of it and placed curled newspaper around it. I opened the box for the last time and placed inside of it a small amount of lighter fluid and lit the match and threw it in. There I sat in the wet late morning grass in the middle of the country with no one around and cried my eyes out. I sobbed as I prayed for God to guide to the right life, to guide me to be the person he wanted me to be. I now look back and think part of why I was crying so hard is because I watched that part of who I am go up in flames, flames of shame and hatefullness.
I watched as that part of me burned to nothing but ashes, I scattered them around to make sure there was nothing left that would be evidence for my buddy to find and start asking questions, I wanted nothing left behind, I wanted to clean my soul. I sat there and stared at the ashes, knowing that this wouldn't go away, that this is not something I could just burn up and move on from, that this was truly who I was and no bonfire would be enough to cleanse me from these impure thoughts. I continued to pray for hours afterwards begging God to help me, to show me the way, to let me know I did the right thing and that I would continue to do the right thing, to send me some sort of sign that this was what I was to be.
I went off to college that fall and moved away from everything I knew, everything that was familiar and comfortable, I was thinking I could surely begin a new there. I was so wrong.
Everyday was like the old days, filled with impure thoughts, hidden desires and more hiding. I battled more and more through college, slipping and caving to these thoughts and desires, but not in a physical way, but finding people online and talking, being who I really was, and sometimes who I wished I was. Some people knew me as the fat hardworking shameful gay man looking for help, support and guidance. Others knew me as a 6 foot tall blonde hair green eyed stud of a man with a surfer body who just wanted to hear good things about himself. I was emotionally a wreck. I did have great people around me, but they were people who didn't really know me, people that still don't know me. Out of all the people I met and befriended up there I have only come out to one of them. To be honest, it's probably the only one that really mattered, a real friend, the one I actually truly cared about. Not in that way, but in a human way, in a way I really truly needed. He was the kind of roommate I had always envisioned, we shared stories and knew about each other (well at the time not everything) But we formed a friendship that really mattered, one that I still have to this day.
But anyway, that went off topic. My senior year in college, after this friend moved away I was with a new roommate that was really nice and cute I must say. We didn't really bond or form that great of a friendship, to be honest I'm amazed he agreed to be my roommate, we just weren't alike, but somehow we formed a decent relationship. but anyway, that was also off topic. It was in that year that I was dating the straight love of my life, she was wonderful, but I could never grasp the idea of us forever, because lets face it, I was/am gay. I battled with that something fierce during that time, trying to push it out of my head and trying to move forward with what I thought would be so right for me. But looking back I know it wasn't right, in away. We weren't matched educationally, we weren't matched emotionally, and not matched age wise either, but we loved each other. I still love her, but at night I spent the time talking to Danny, a guy I met online that lived about 1/2 hour from my apartment.
It was the first time that I was myself, we traded pictures, we traded stories and we really got to know one another. I honestly felt like we could have been a couple, and yet I always made excuses to not meet him. We talked on the phone, we emailed, we chatted, it was wonderful, and then "she" would call and I'd feel awful, I'd feel dirty like I had been cheating on her, which I know I was emotionally. Finally he was putting more and more pressure on me to meet him, and I broke it off with him. I told him I wasn't ready and it wasn't what I wanted, I was going to marry "her" and live my life. I thought he'd laugh, but he didn't, he wasn't that kind of guy. I could hear the sadness in his voice as he told me he understood, but if I changed my mind I should call him.
I now look back and think part of the pressure was to get me into bed, which to be honest, I should have jumped at the chance.....he was HOT!!!! and for some reason he found me to be attractive also. I spent the first few months of talking trying to scare him off, but he kept asking more. I knew deep down inside that I could never have that type of relationship with a woman. The things we talked about, how comfortable he made me feel with myself and about myself, it was all just too good to be true. He was smart, caring, sensitive and a musician to boot! I still to this day wish I had met him, but I didn't want to be a cheater. I still have his website saved on my computer, I visit there from time to time to check up on him and listen to his latest stuff and revisit those feelings I felt. To remember what it was like to feel wanted.
After I broke it off with him before really giving him a chance, I decided to redevote myself to "her". I took all items off my computer from him, all my messages, all his pictures....anything relating to this part of my life. I still regret it. But I decided then I would marry her and start a new life with her. I had made up my mind to repair our "broken" relationship and make things right again. It was a few weeks later that I got back into town and went to talk to her. This is when she told me she needed space, she needed time away from me to think things through.
It was nearly three years before we spoke again. Then it was another three before we spoke a second time. It was six years before I let her go, before I put her out of my mind and really accepted who I am. It was this last time seeing her that I was really happy to see her again, it was strange sure, I wanted to tell her, but at the time I hadn't told a soul.
I still find myself crying at times begging God to show me the way, to forgive me for being gay, to let me be who I am. Most of me believes I am God's child, that he loves me for who I am, and would condemn me for loving another person, for living a christian life with another man. That part of me prays for the strength to tell more people to let myself free of this pain, to let it all go and let God show me the way. The other part of me is still ashamed, praying for God's forgiveness and to show me the way to happiness, to let me be straight and start over. A part of me that still wants to burn my soul clean like I thought I could do that day, that just by getting rid of these physical things would cure my soul and allow me to be a true God fearing Christian.
I feel so messed up at times.