After walking the trail for 19 years that was left behind by so many before me, I found myself with an assigned companion, not really knowing who he was walking around with: a child wearing a Halloween mask. We had arrived at the doorstep of the less-active member like children trick-or-treating without bags; rather, an added number to place on our report to the president, like badges to wear for the week. When she answered we began inviting ourselves in for conversation. Sitting on the mini couch, we were able to reveal the challenge at hand. I sat there listening to her, empathizing with her; Finally, I had found someone in my life like me. I couldn't come right out and admit how I felt, I had kept it for so long; this secret inside that would de-rail my life into what I thought would be endless darkness. Finally, as I listed to my companion query her as a therapist trying, insensitively, to correct this, "mental disease", I decided to relieve myself from this anxiety inside.
"You have been very honest with us, and I thank you for that. I have something to say, and I'm going to be completely honest with you now. I share your orientation."
"You're gay?"
"Yes."
My companion looked at me as though he had been betrayed, or been given a defective companion. I looked directly at her, and began to have my first conversation with someone about what I held most dear to me. Someone that I knew would be able to take this the way it should be taken. When we had satisfied each of our hunger for understanding of the other we left.
I couldn't wait to return home and write in my journal.
As we got into the car I began to realize what had just happened: "You're never going to see this woman again." My companion began his attempt to reprimand me spiritually about having revealed, "past transgressions." I somehow knew that this single event would change my life forever.
I walked around vexed with teaching this, "truth" that I didn't even have sorted out myself, I soon looked for a way to jar someone into listening to me. As the squeaky wheel, I was sent back to the manufacturer by the mechanic too old and frustrated to quench my thirst for the knowledge that would lubricate my dry soul with comfort.
I then sat through a similar experience that my friend had, such little time before, as I was dealt with like a disease incurable to mankind. As I became irked with their insensitivity I stood up and walked away to figure out for myself a truth that I felt had not been found.
As I walk on the all so familiar, "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams", I invite anyone, and everyone that may be able to help me piece together the real peices missing in life's grand puzzle that has been the subject of debate for so many years. This call for help is not the first, but is still sincere nevertheless.
