Part 1: LOVE
DAY 1 - 2:48 AM
It's Friday night, late. I'm flying out of SeaTac at 9:30 tomorrow morning, and I haven't even begun to pack. It shouldn't be a big deal; it's a simple 3 day trip, so I won't need too much clothing. Just something to wear all day tomorrow, something for church on Sunday, and something to roam around in on Monday. Oh wait, I need something for Tuesday, too, since I'll be headed straight to work when I get back. Hey: I can get some of this stuff there in Cali! Besides, I'm too tired to think about it right now anyway.
All I've been able to think about is him: Peter. He's the reason I can't sleep; the reason I can't stop smiling right now; the reason I'm looking forward so much to this mini-vacation. I met Peter about 3 years ago, when I was a secretary to the EQP, and he was a newbie in the ward. I was a young, enthusiastic socialite with a big personality, and he was a handsome 30 year old introvert with no interest in making friends. He intrigued me for obvious reasons, and I pursued a friendship with him for months before I finally found a common interest that broke down the walls: music. He loves to sing, and so the first time I got him to come hang out with me was by inviting him over to play and sing songs around my piano with my fam and friends. We also share a mutual love for "Settlers," and once we made that connection, our friendship was sealed!
Years and many miles later, Peter and I still keep in touch, and visit each other as oft as possible. This weekend, he is flying me out to his place in San Jose to perform an original song of mine in his ward, where they've finally broken him down enough to get him to sing in church. I am SO EXCITED! To get to spend 3 days with one of my most favorite people in the world...
See, here's the thing: I've grown to love Peter so much over the last couple years. No, he's not your typical "Peter Priesthood" (despite the name!), but he is one of the most mature, sensible, funny, and all-around beautiful guys I've ever come to know. He treats me with tremendous respect, he encourages me in all of my dreams, and he makes me feel like a kid again. My favorite thing about him is that he inspires me: he has a way of getting my creative juices flowing, so the music, lyrics, and expression come out of me more naturally. It's a wonderful phenomenon, and I thirst for it insatiably. I guess you could say I thirst for him; I believe I'm in love with Peter.
My best friend Sebaztyan thinks that Peter has the same feelings for me. After all, he's 33, handsome, well-adjusted, and single. He never talks about girls, never has a girlfriend, and never dates. He gives me more attention than he does anyone else we know outside of his family. He spends crazy amounts of money on me to show me he loves me. Still, Peter has never confided any same-sex attractions to me, and I've never discussed mine around him. And it's not like I'm closeted at all. It has just been something we haven't talked about, ever. Sebaztyan thinks that now is the time to tell Peter. He says that if Peter has SSA, and has never had a comfortable opportunity to figure out that part of himself, that I could be doing him a great service by allowing him to talk about it. Besides, what if he's in love with me, too?
So I've decided: this weekend, I'm telling Peter.
DAY 2 - 12:02 AM
My heart skipped a beat when I beheld the sight of him this morning. It has been only 2 months since my last visit, but the 2-hour plane ride felt extremely long, and I was overcome with joy when I saw Pete pull up to the curb. He had the entire day planned: we went shopping, rehearsed through our music, had dinner with friends, and played "Settlers." Pete introduced me to the WiiFit, and we took turns exercising and gorging ourselves on ice cream. Peter called it a night at the stroke of 12, and I let him go to bed before I could have "the talk" with him. It just didn't come up, I guess...
DAY 3 - 12:04 AM
Pete sang like an angel today. I was honored to have my song performed by such a beautiful and talented man, and this only increased my fondness for him. After church, Pete prepared a picnic for the two of us, and we took it to the beach. We ate, we strolled through the sand and water, and talked about everything under the sun... except that. Tonight we watched "Meet the Robinson's" and the pilot to "Glee" before doing some more WiiFit. Pete went to bed again at midnight, and now I'm contemplating why I still haven't opened myself up to him. Maybe I'm just scared. I'm enjoying what we have now so much that I'm afraid of the possibility that it will change. For worse... if I tell him.
DAY 4 - 11:27 PM
Today's my last day in San Jose :(. This morning, Peter took me to the gym and assigned a new workout regime for me. Then we shopped, had lunch at Chipotle, and walked the Monterey wharf. I kept picturing myself sharing times like these with Pete more frequently, if the opportunities presented themselves. It dawned on me that we spent a lot of time doing romantic things without being romantic. Was there a chance that Peter hoped for a romance to bud as much as I did?
Tonight, we watched "17 Again," which we both really enjoyed. During the movie, I kept trying to figure out a tactful way to cuddle with Pete. I never found it, so at the end of the movie, I did a little head-on-the-shoulder lean as we sat together on the couch. He didn't flinch. Things seemed to be going well, when I decided to be a jerk and tease him about something. That led to the silent treatment from him, which led to wrestling from me. He got annoyed, and that put an awkward end to any romantic ploys for the remainder of the evening. My flight leaves at 9:30 in the morning, so we both retired to bed early: Pete to his bedroom, and me to the couch. Alone. Again. Why am I so self-sabotaging?
DAY 5 - 12:41 PM
I'm waiting at SeaTac for Sebaztyan to come pick me, and it's been an hour now. I'd be more upset, but I'm too preoccupied with thoughts of Cali. I woke up 15 minutes later than I should have, which put Pete and me 15 minutes behind schedule. I thought he'd be mad, but he just relaxed and kept an attitude of "let's not worry about what we can't change"... which just made me feel even more guilty. Before he dropped me off at the airport, he handed me a container with chocolate chip cookies and a breakfast shake. As he drove away, I couldn't help but think of what an amazing human being he is, and how much I wished I was as thoughtful, generous, or beautiful as Peter.
I made friends with a handsome college grad from China on the flight home, and we talked about our mutual love for ballroom dancing, travel, and the Seattle social scene. We exchanged contacts, and promised to hang out soon; I should have been more excited, but I felt a twinge of guilt - the kind you feel when you're being unfaithful to someone.
So now I'm sitting on this curb alone, urging myself to grow more accustomed and comfortable with this scene, because at this rate, it's what I have to look forward to doing for the rest of this lifetime. Do I love Peter? Yes. That is why I'm following the advice of someone who once wisely stated, "If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were." Why am I letting Pete go? Because he's always been God's man. And God deserves him: Peter is the best of the best. So who am I, then, to try and tempt Peter away from the one man that loves him the most? I now realize the truth: Peter was never mine. Even if Pete loves me the way I love him, what would confessing that to each other accomplish? We would both keep our devotions to God, and our relationship would stay the way it is now anyway. I should be happy - at least I can count on having Pete as an eternal friend :)
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
26 and a Half
I can remember being only 5
When I had my first crush on a guy
He lived next door, and every day
We'd talk, we'd laugh, we'd play
We moved far away from my dear friend
I never did see that guy again
It happened 21 years ago,
I never forgot him though.
It happened again at 6, at 10,
These little crushes on little men
Now I'm 26 and a half years old
I had no idea how my life would unfold
At 12, I felt strange curiosity
My teacher called it "puberty"
But while other boys solely vied for girls
I grasped for the best of both worlds
When 13 came, I was no longer a child
That summer, things got pretty wild
A little fling turned into 4 years
Of a double life led in fear
I look back on my teenage self
And remember all the secret things I felt
Now that I'm 26 and a half
I'm grateful to call it my past
19 was probably the toughest time yet
It's when the fork in the road and I met
The journey ahead would be rough and trying
But it'd be worth the hurting and crying
At 21 God gave my Mormon card back
But my love for mankind He did not retract
I was grateful, for I had learned and matured
Through this "disease" He would not cure
Life has been good, though it's had its downs
Still, I smile more oft than I frown
Now I'm 26 and a half
I can't believe all that's happened so fast
In 26 and a half more years
I'm pretty sure I'll still be queer
Will I ever be able to come to a place
Where I'll have a wife and kids one day?
Will I be able to someday enjoy
A traditional family, like other boys?
Or am I forever to benchwarm on the side
And watch others play, like old times?
If I must wait for the eternities
To wed, then I'll do what God asks of me
But I'm only 26 and a half
I sure hope I've the strength to last
When I had my first crush on a guy
He lived next door, and every day
We'd talk, we'd laugh, we'd play
We moved far away from my dear friend
I never did see that guy again
It happened 21 years ago,
I never forgot him though.
It happened again at 6, at 10,
These little crushes on little men
Now I'm 26 and a half years old
I had no idea how my life would unfold
At 12, I felt strange curiosity
My teacher called it "puberty"
But while other boys solely vied for girls
I grasped for the best of both worlds
When 13 came, I was no longer a child
That summer, things got pretty wild
A little fling turned into 4 years
Of a double life led in fear
I look back on my teenage self
And remember all the secret things I felt
Now that I'm 26 and a half
I'm grateful to call it my past
19 was probably the toughest time yet
It's when the fork in the road and I met
The journey ahead would be rough and trying
But it'd be worth the hurting and crying
At 21 God gave my Mormon card back
But my love for mankind He did not retract
I was grateful, for I had learned and matured
Through this "disease" He would not cure
Life has been good, though it's had its downs
Still, I smile more oft than I frown
Now I'm 26 and a half
I can't believe all that's happened so fast
In 26 and a half more years
I'm pretty sure I'll still be queer
Will I ever be able to come to a place
Where I'll have a wife and kids one day?
Will I be able to someday enjoy
A traditional family, like other boys?
Or am I forever to benchwarm on the side
And watch others play, like old times?
If I must wait for the eternities
To wed, then I'll do what God asks of me
But I'm only 26 and a half
I sure hope I've the strength to last
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Google Me
I did, just for fun... and I found a poem I wrote back in 2001, just two days after the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers. It's kinda crazy... it's a poem I wrote to friends and family, and sent over an email. At the time, I was a freshman in college, far away for the first time from family and friends, and only on my 13th day in a place I was still growing accustomed to. I was very scared, but that was not something I displayed to my loved ones. It's still a guilty habit of mine: to always have to be the strong one, to never lose composure in front of others, to push everyone forward past the pain of life.
Anyhow, a couple days after I sent the email, I received it back from a completely different friend, who had received it from someone else. I checked the progress it had made, and realized that everyone had passed it on, like a chain letter that was being shared around the world. It was weird! I got it back a few more times after that. I didn't remember ever putting my name to the poem, either, but somehow I was given credit for it. Now it's published on a random poetry site, and it's received nearly 50,000 hits! I can't believe it, I've never even heard of this site! And it says it wasn't copywrited until 2005, 4 years after I originally wrote it.
In case you're interested in the poem, and don't want to bother googling me (but why wouldn't you?!), here's the poem. Please don't laugh too hard:
Love Is Living
Who may now find themselves in the midst of despair
Because of the shameful acts of hate
That destroyed so much within the last two days.
Brother, sister, neighbor, friend,
Let us all remember when
"Love one another" said Jesus Christ
Including those that we despise.
Our enemies need our love the most
For it is hate that they do host.
So if you can find it in your heart,
Please forgive our counterparts.
Not all Palestinians act that way,
Only the radicals that on TV were displayed.
Please, instead, focus your energy
To the positive rebounding of our beloved country.
I ask that you join in the thousands that mourn
In prayer for the thousands in pain and scorn.
Help to find some kind of relief
In the midst of all these sad happenings.
That God will bless the ones who keep
On the search for people buried under the rubble deep.
And that families of the victims find
Some justice in their own due time.
I do pray for all of you within my reach
That you're faith in God you all do keep.
For it's our duty as surviving saints
To remember the tragedy of last Tuesday
So we can all better defend
Against the evil that will come again.
This time, we'll be prepared to fight
The hate with all our loving might.
For the truth is: the true battle's between love and hate
I pray that love will dominate.
Please pass this on to whom you feel
May need some love, may need to heal.
For it is with love this to you is given;
Please share this love, for love is living.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Especially For This Youth
Last Sunday, I was blessed with the opportunity to take part in a musical number for a friend's sacrament meeting in a neighboring stake. Two of my friends, my brother, and I performed "Prayer of the Children," and it went very well, especially considering we only practiced together 4 times. In our own stake, we were having Stake Conference, so I didn't feel too bad about skipping out on my weekly duties in my home ward.
Just after I finished dinner that evening, though, my bishop called to let me know he missed me at church today. He wondered why he didn't see me or my brother, and joked about us playing hookey. Then he asked me if I was planning on attending our ward's St. Patty's Party this weekend. "It's on Saturday evening, Brother Esera; I made sure they planned it that way just for you," he told me. We talked for a little while longer, I promised I'd be there, and then he spoke to my brother about the activity as well.
I know this may not sound like a big deal, but you have to know my bishop, and some background:
In my single's ward, we have had AMAZING bishoprics over the last 10 years. When I first came into contact with this ward almost 8 years ago, Bishop Wolvers served us. He is a brilliant man - affluent in music, great with people, and a life-long counselor to high school and college aged young adults. I joined the ward during my term of disfellowshipment because of the wonderful things I heard about him from 2 other mohos. I credit much of my spiritual growth to his patient ear, his honest tongue, his sturdy shoulders, and his loving heart. He was succeeded by Bishop Washer, a retired Naval officer with the most pleasant demeanor and genuine spirit. He is also a people-person, and a long time friend to my family.
When Bishop Anderson was called to our ward, I knew nothing about him - I'd never met him, and had heard about him. My early impressions of him were not the same as the past two bishops: Bishop Anderson is not quite as social as the men who preceeded him, and was not as easy-going. He came off as more conservative, more stiff, less understanding, and less approachable. I was unsure as to how comfortable I would feel coming to him with my personal issues, especially when it came to SSA. I was afraid he was just too different from the last two bishops.
The real trouble came when my friends and my brother started relaying the same concerns. "I know what you guys mean," I'd say, "but there has to be a reason why he was called to our ward at this time. He's going to learn to be better for us, and we're going to learn to love and appreciate him. Somehow, Bishop Anderson is going to be good for us." Inside, I told myself that I had to learn this for myself, and be sure if anyone was going to believe me.
I remember praying for help before the first time I went to see Bishop Anderson. I prayed that I would be open to accepting him as my bishop, and that we would both be guided by the Spirit during our meeting so it would be effective for us. I remember specifically asking the Lord to show me that the Bishop loved me so I could trust him and his divinely-inspired counsel.
Our interview went much better than expected! Though the Bishop was still a little stiff, he took my confession very well, and didn't freak out in the slightest when I described to him the issues I was having with SSA. He was very matter-of-factly, and I appreciated his honest and direct candor. I was set up to have an interview with the Stake President, and I prayed for a similar experience. That went well, too. I went back to my ward that Sunday, and felt great!
The undoubtable answer to my prayer came soon after. I remember Bishop Anderson randomly coming up to me one day, and wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he asked about how I was doing. Bishop Anderson is NOT a touchy-feely kind of guy! I knew nothing short of a miracle could get him to spontaneously and willingly do that, especially with me! I thanked God for showing me that my bishop loved and cared for me.
Since then, my bishop has shown me time and time again that he loves not only me, but my peers in the ward. He has lightened up SO MUCH, and has earned the respect and adoration of the ward in the same right that our previous bishops did. Even my best friend and my brother, who were very skeptical in the beginning, have grown to love him. I am so proud of my bishop! And I'm so glad that the Lord has blessed me with the fulfillment of my hope.
When Bishop Anderson told me he made sure that this weekend's activity took place on Saturday just for me, I was very touched. He knows that my work schedule prohibits me from being there on Friday evenings, and he knows how prone our activity's committee is to planning events on Fridays versus Saturday nights. It showed me that he really wanted me to be involved, and I felt special that he would take the time to do something like that just for me. If you're reading this, Bishop, thanks so much! And I love you too!!
Just after I finished dinner that evening, though, my bishop called to let me know he missed me at church today. He wondered why he didn't see me or my brother, and joked about us playing hookey. Then he asked me if I was planning on attending our ward's St. Patty's Party this weekend. "It's on Saturday evening, Brother Esera; I made sure they planned it that way just for you," he told me. We talked for a little while longer, I promised I'd be there, and then he spoke to my brother about the activity as well.
I know this may not sound like a big deal, but you have to know my bishop, and some background:
In my single's ward, we have had AMAZING bishoprics over the last 10 years. When I first came into contact with this ward almost 8 years ago, Bishop Wolvers served us. He is a brilliant man - affluent in music, great with people, and a life-long counselor to high school and college aged young adults. I joined the ward during my term of disfellowshipment because of the wonderful things I heard about him from 2 other mohos. I credit much of my spiritual growth to his patient ear, his honest tongue, his sturdy shoulders, and his loving heart. He was succeeded by Bishop Washer, a retired Naval officer with the most pleasant demeanor and genuine spirit. He is also a people-person, and a long time friend to my family.
When Bishop Anderson was called to our ward, I knew nothing about him - I'd never met him, and had heard about him. My early impressions of him were not the same as the past two bishops: Bishop Anderson is not quite as social as the men who preceeded him, and was not as easy-going. He came off as more conservative, more stiff, less understanding, and less approachable. I was unsure as to how comfortable I would feel coming to him with my personal issues, especially when it came to SSA. I was afraid he was just too different from the last two bishops.
The real trouble came when my friends and my brother started relaying the same concerns. "I know what you guys mean," I'd say, "but there has to be a reason why he was called to our ward at this time. He's going to learn to be better for us, and we're going to learn to love and appreciate him. Somehow, Bishop Anderson is going to be good for us." Inside, I told myself that I had to learn this for myself, and be sure if anyone was going to believe me.
I remember praying for help before the first time I went to see Bishop Anderson. I prayed that I would be open to accepting him as my bishop, and that we would both be guided by the Spirit during our meeting so it would be effective for us. I remember specifically asking the Lord to show me that the Bishop loved me so I could trust him and his divinely-inspired counsel.
Our interview went much better than expected! Though the Bishop was still a little stiff, he took my confession very well, and didn't freak out in the slightest when I described to him the issues I was having with SSA. He was very matter-of-factly, and I appreciated his honest and direct candor. I was set up to have an interview with the Stake President, and I prayed for a similar experience. That went well, too. I went back to my ward that Sunday, and felt great!
The undoubtable answer to my prayer came soon after. I remember Bishop Anderson randomly coming up to me one day, and wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he asked about how I was doing. Bishop Anderson is NOT a touchy-feely kind of guy! I knew nothing short of a miracle could get him to spontaneously and willingly do that, especially with me! I thanked God for showing me that my bishop loved and cared for me.
Since then, my bishop has shown me time and time again that he loves not only me, but my peers in the ward. He has lightened up SO MUCH, and has earned the respect and adoration of the ward in the same right that our previous bishops did. Even my best friend and my brother, who were very skeptical in the beginning, have grown to love him. I am so proud of my bishop! And I'm so glad that the Lord has blessed me with the fulfillment of my hope.
When Bishop Anderson told me he made sure that this weekend's activity took place on Saturday just for me, I was very touched. He knows that my work schedule prohibits me from being there on Friday evenings, and he knows how prone our activity's committee is to planning events on Fridays versus Saturday nights. It showed me that he really wanted me to be involved, and I felt special that he would take the time to do something like that just for me. If you're reading this, Bishop, thanks so much! And I love you too!!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Anniversary
November is a very emotionally intense month for me, every year. I don't know if the weather affects me a strange way this time of year or not, or if it's because the holidays are here, or because I'm always single in November. Maybe none of those things affect me, or maybe they all do. I think the biggest factor, though, is the fact that November marks my anniversary of the split from my college sweetheart back in '01.
It's kinda pathetic, seeing as it happened 7 years ago now. It's significant, though, because it catapulted a great series of events that brought me to where I am today. I don't know exactly why, but I feel impressed to share this experience for the first time in writing:
I called him Ty Ty. I met him through his best friend and roommate, J., whom I thought was beautiful and super nice. One night, J. invited me to hang out with him and his rommies. I accepted, only to find out that it was a group date - haha. I was the 7th wheel that night! Still, I knew the 3rd roommie who was in the group, and all the girls were super nice. I remember stuffing myself on the floor in front of the passenger seat of Ty Ty's truck, while the others squashed onto seats. Ty made sure I was comfortable as possible as he drove us out to the dunes for a movie night. After that night, I became an unofficial roommate to their household. Ty, J., and I became the best of friends, practically inseparable.
A month after we met, Ty Ty and I decided to go back to the dunes alone. We ended up coming out to each other, had a romantical evening, and came back home in the morning in time to watch General Conference. We kept things pretty innocent for 3 weeks. We shared every dirty secret we'd never spoken before, and grew to love each other more than I thought was ever possible. One night, we slipped up, and went way farther than we ever meant to. We felt terrible at first, but we didn't slow down. We kept things up for another month, before Ty Ty felt so guilty that he put our romantic relationship to an end. I was so numb by now, that I didn't feel the same way Ty did. I was so used to living the double life that I didn't try to fix it. But Ty was trying to be good, and get right; I respected that, and I tried to move on. Just after Thanksgiving, at the end of November, I found myself losing grip on the one person I could share EVERYTHING with.
Throughout the remainder of the school year, I became more and more distanced from J. and Ty Ty, and I built relationships with other guys whom I could potentially share everything with. But no one was Ty Ty. Deep down inside, I was still so in love with him that I couldn't share certain intimate things with the other friends I made. I left all of that behind in November.
In April, Ty and I hung out again. We were in a very nostalgic mood, and we had one more intimate moment that did not go as far as we did in November. We went our separate ways after that, me still totally numb, and Ty suffering so much that he decided to try and take care of it.
In June, I got called into my bishop's office. I thought we were going to work on my mission papers. My parents thought I was going in to interview for the Melchizedek Priesthood. We were all wrong. The bishop received a call from Ty Ty's bishop, revealing my deepest, darkest secret to someone I never was going to tell. I was caught off guard, and as I listened to the bishop speak to me, I knew it was over. Today was the day that I would have to choose which way to go. He asked me why I hadn't told him anything til now; I told him the truth: I was scared, and I didn't want to hurt my family.
I remember the drive home from the office with my mother. She knew something was wrong. I ended up spilling this terrible part of me with her for 3 hours. She listened supportively, not totally understanding me, but she let me know she still loved me, and gave me wonderful motherly advice. She told me not to tell my father, that she'd worry about it. She told him herself, and he avoided me for 3 days as he cried. They both blamed themselves, and I reassured them that it was NOT their fault. They continued to support me, and encouraged me to participate in the local single's ward.
That's where I met my best friend Tommy. He took me out to a late dinner one night after FHE, and asked if I dealt with feelings for the same sex. I opened up to him, and we conversated the entire rest of the evening about things we had in common. It was so nice to finally have someone else around that understood me. I told him how I got disfellowshipped, and shared my experience with the bishop. He was surprised that I got outted to the bishop without an opportunity to come forth of my own accord and confess my sins. He asked how I felt about it. I realized that I wasn't angry at all. I thought about Ty in Idaho, and how hard it must have been for him to talk to his bishop. I thought about how tough it must have been for him to tell his bishop about me, and to know that his bishop would contact mine. I knew how much he suffered before, and how numb I was. I knew that if it weren't for Ty, I would still be stuck in the corner of my own closet, and I would never have talked to my bishop, my parents, and maybe not even Tommy. I decided I was grateful that Ty told his bishop.
In September, Tommy and my other besty Jerr Berr took me to my first EG Conference in SLC. It was a great experience for me, meeting other guys in the church who dealt with the same struggles I deal with. The big bonus for me? After 5 long months, Ty and I got to see each other and talk. He felt terrible for what happened to me, and spent the entire summer worried about it. I told him how I felt, and we enjoyed a pleasant night - as friends.
Something wonderful and terrible happened: I was brought closer to God, and had my life changed immensely for the good thanks to what Ty did for me. What happened to Ty Ty? He lacked the support system I had, and he gave way to the world. The boy who once suffered because of all the guilt he felt decided to stop feeling it by giving in to things that numbed him the way they numbed me. I felt terrible! Why couldn't I have been a positive force for Ty when he needed one? Instead, I was a bad influence. How ironic: the one that should have been saved because of his decisions ended up saving the lost boy that wasn't even trying to be saved.
When November came back around, I was a totally different boy from the one that existed the previous November. I was on the path to getting my life back in order, a path that was totally different from the one I was on just a year prior.
Every November, I am reminded of the tender mercies of the Lord, and for the wonderful people He's placed into my life. I would not be where I am today without them. I am also reminded, though, of the beautiful one who was lost. To this day, I still blame myself for what's happened to Ty, and will forever regret the fact that I was much too weak and selfish to help someone who positively changed my life forever.
It's kinda pathetic, seeing as it happened 7 years ago now. It's significant, though, because it catapulted a great series of events that brought me to where I am today. I don't know exactly why, but I feel impressed to share this experience for the first time in writing:
I called him Ty Ty. I met him through his best friend and roommate, J., whom I thought was beautiful and super nice. One night, J. invited me to hang out with him and his rommies. I accepted, only to find out that it was a group date - haha. I was the 7th wheel that night! Still, I knew the 3rd roommie who was in the group, and all the girls were super nice. I remember stuffing myself on the floor in front of the passenger seat of Ty Ty's truck, while the others squashed onto seats. Ty made sure I was comfortable as possible as he drove us out to the dunes for a movie night. After that night, I became an unofficial roommate to their household. Ty, J., and I became the best of friends, practically inseparable.
A month after we met, Ty Ty and I decided to go back to the dunes alone. We ended up coming out to each other, had a romantical evening, and came back home in the morning in time to watch General Conference. We kept things pretty innocent for 3 weeks. We shared every dirty secret we'd never spoken before, and grew to love each other more than I thought was ever possible. One night, we slipped up, and went way farther than we ever meant to. We felt terrible at first, but we didn't slow down. We kept things up for another month, before Ty Ty felt so guilty that he put our romantic relationship to an end. I was so numb by now, that I didn't feel the same way Ty did. I was so used to living the double life that I didn't try to fix it. But Ty was trying to be good, and get right; I respected that, and I tried to move on. Just after Thanksgiving, at the end of November, I found myself losing grip on the one person I could share EVERYTHING with.
Throughout the remainder of the school year, I became more and more distanced from J. and Ty Ty, and I built relationships with other guys whom I could potentially share everything with. But no one was Ty Ty. Deep down inside, I was still so in love with him that I couldn't share certain intimate things with the other friends I made. I left all of that behind in November.
In April, Ty and I hung out again. We were in a very nostalgic mood, and we had one more intimate moment that did not go as far as we did in November. We went our separate ways after that, me still totally numb, and Ty suffering so much that he decided to try and take care of it.
In June, I got called into my bishop's office. I thought we were going to work on my mission papers. My parents thought I was going in to interview for the Melchizedek Priesthood. We were all wrong. The bishop received a call from Ty Ty's bishop, revealing my deepest, darkest secret to someone I never was going to tell. I was caught off guard, and as I listened to the bishop speak to me, I knew it was over. Today was the day that I would have to choose which way to go. He asked me why I hadn't told him anything til now; I told him the truth: I was scared, and I didn't want to hurt my family.
I remember the drive home from the office with my mother. She knew something was wrong. I ended up spilling this terrible part of me with her for 3 hours. She listened supportively, not totally understanding me, but she let me know she still loved me, and gave me wonderful motherly advice. She told me not to tell my father, that she'd worry about it. She told him herself, and he avoided me for 3 days as he cried. They both blamed themselves, and I reassured them that it was NOT their fault. They continued to support me, and encouraged me to participate in the local single's ward.
That's where I met my best friend Tommy. He took me out to a late dinner one night after FHE, and asked if I dealt with feelings for the same sex. I opened up to him, and we conversated the entire rest of the evening about things we had in common. It was so nice to finally have someone else around that understood me. I told him how I got disfellowshipped, and shared my experience with the bishop. He was surprised that I got outted to the bishop without an opportunity to come forth of my own accord and confess my sins. He asked how I felt about it. I realized that I wasn't angry at all. I thought about Ty in Idaho, and how hard it must have been for him to talk to his bishop. I thought about how tough it must have been for him to tell his bishop about me, and to know that his bishop would contact mine. I knew how much he suffered before, and how numb I was. I knew that if it weren't for Ty, I would still be stuck in the corner of my own closet, and I would never have talked to my bishop, my parents, and maybe not even Tommy. I decided I was grateful that Ty told his bishop.
In September, Tommy and my other besty Jerr Berr took me to my first EG Conference in SLC. It was a great experience for me, meeting other guys in the church who dealt with the same struggles I deal with. The big bonus for me? After 5 long months, Ty and I got to see each other and talk. He felt terrible for what happened to me, and spent the entire summer worried about it. I told him how I felt, and we enjoyed a pleasant night - as friends.
Something wonderful and terrible happened: I was brought closer to God, and had my life changed immensely for the good thanks to what Ty did for me. What happened to Ty Ty? He lacked the support system I had, and he gave way to the world. The boy who once suffered because of all the guilt he felt decided to stop feeling it by giving in to things that numbed him the way they numbed me. I felt terrible! Why couldn't I have been a positive force for Ty when he needed one? Instead, I was a bad influence. How ironic: the one that should have been saved because of his decisions ended up saving the lost boy that wasn't even trying to be saved.
When November came back around, I was a totally different boy from the one that existed the previous November. I was on the path to getting my life back in order, a path that was totally different from the one I was on just a year prior.
Every November, I am reminded of the tender mercies of the Lord, and for the wonderful people He's placed into my life. I would not be where I am today without them. I am also reminded, though, of the beautiful one who was lost. To this day, I still blame myself for what's happened to Ty, and will forever regret the fact that I was much too weak and selfish to help someone who positively changed my life forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)