All the Missing People

You’d think with three titles in a row including “All the Missing” that I must be missing something or other, and you’d be right in assuming that. For whatever reason, I have been feeling kind of nostalgic and sentimental lately. I’ve been thinking about a lot of the people I’ve met and become friends with over the years. Some of them are still a part of my life, but others aren’t. I miss a lot of people. There are so many people who I really would like to have gotten closer to, or to have just stayed in contact with.

I hate making a really good friend just to see the friendship between us slowly fade into practically nothing. I hate feeling like I’ve lost friends. I know people come into and out of your life all the time. This is normal and most people experience this, I know. But still, I hate this part of it.

I feel like I miss people all the time, more than not, and I just absolutely hate having this feeling. Every once in a while I’ll run into someone, and I like that I do. It’s usually never the same though. Time passes and people move away and live their lives, go places, do things, change from the people you knew them to be. It amazes me just how much people can change. I know I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. Everyone changes. And that being the case, it is understandable why friends don’t stay the same, why they move in and out of your life and why old friends go and new friends come along. I get this. It still doesn’t help me keep from missing people though.

All the Missing Minutes

One thing I should have emphasized more in my last post is my fear of the future. I can be hopeful and wish for the best, but with the future comes a great deal of uncertainty. I hate making plans and counting on things to be a certain way just for those plans and expectations to be altered. Granted, this can be a good thing, and I do try to look at such changes in that light. But, still, I hate for my plans to be changed by random uncertainties. On top of that, I do often doubt my resolve, abilities, and decisions. I like writing, for example, and would love to get a book published someday that would get some attention, but I doubt my own writing skills and abilities to be able to pull that off. And I do second guess myself a great deal of the time as well—I’ve been told I need a bit more self-confidence, and in this I’m sure others have been correct in telling me so. Regardless of the reasons for my fear of the future though, it will suffice to say simply that I do sometimes have that fear.

I really do just wish I could freeze time or go back and relive certain moments though. I feel like the minutes of the clock just keep ticking by and the next thing I know I’ve wasted a whole day or not been able to do everything I wanted to do. And then I dread tomorrow (enough so at times that I’ve honestly just not wanted to go to sleep at night, as if there’s a fear that each day will be my last and I won’t get any more time).

As I said before, I’ve been feeling nostalgic, which is usually a feeling that gets me nowhere; it’s only about looking back. I wish I could go back to my middle school days. I really loved that time in my life, that time between sixth and eighth grades. I had several friends, loved my teachers/school, was doing well in school, actually got along with my parents, and everything just seemed so much easier and less complicated. I miss past summers. I wish I could relive this time last year. I was reading through the Harry Potter books for the first time, and as stupid as it may sound, that was a blessing and a truly uplifting experience for me. I stand in awe of what J.K. Rowling has created in the Harry Potter series—it leaves me without words really. And I wish for certain other things as well.

I guess the point of this post is just to say that I wish I had more time. I never feel like I can get enough stuff done that I’d like to. That and I do hold onto the past too much and fear the unknown. I see that and understand it, and I know it’s something I shouldn’t do so much. I’m going to try to work on those things.

In the meantime, I hear the clock a ticking…

All the Missing Pieces

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m a fairly sentimental sort of person.

I’ve been feeling rather nostalgic lately. I keep thinking about friends I’ve had, classes I’ve taken, former teachers, just certain moments in time. I keep thinking about when my dad and I played through a few video games together back in ’03 and ’04. I really enjoyed that time. I keep thinking about all the summers I spent working on the lake, all the assignments I’ve had to complete the last couple of years in school, past vacations, time spent with friends hanging out.

I find myself daydreaming in the past.

I see many mistakes. I have a lot of regrets. My life has been riddled with these things. I see many good times, wise decisions, and lucky turns as well though. I’d say, overall, I have actually had a rather average life. Like anyone else I’ve had my ups and downs.

I wish sometimes that I could go back and relive certain times though. Some of these times so that I could relive their enjoyment and others so that I could make certain corrections and right particular wrongs.

I feel so often as though something is missing in my life. Perhaps this is just because I spend too much time looking back, missing certain things, or that I, despite trying not to be, have a “glass is half empty” outlook about things. But I know it, too, could be due to a lack of self confidence and hope for a future that resembles anything at all like what I’d want it to be. The future I’d like to have always seems so allusive. For instance, just as I’m about to begin student teaching, the county where I live and many surrounding are forced by the state to lay off many new teachers, enough so that I am now fearful about my prospects for finding a job teaching anytime soon. At times like this I remind myself to be patient, though I admit, my patience is tested much more often that I’d like or feel like I can even withstand.

I’m growing very tired of my present circumstances. I suppose I’m far from alone in feeling this way. It’s good to dream and to hope and want for a better life, and most people do this. It’s good to enjoy life in its present as well though. I think that’s something I forget to do sometimes. Other times I just feel as though time is ticking away and all I can think or wish for is just a little more time, to sort of freeze time and enjoy the present a little longer.

I guess I just want and long for more good moments in life. I’m kind of craving that at the moment. To be honest, I just feel as though my life is one big puzzle, and I’m just trying to figure out where all the pieces fit, to make as few mistakes as possible, enjoy the game, and someday finish on top, with everything in place and as it should be.

Honey Verses Vinegar

Jeff posted an incredible story on his blog, and I thought it was worth posting as well. Please read this story, as it demonstrates the type of positive, rather than often times negative, impact Christians can have on others.

I know what it feels like to be mistreated by fellow Christians. It hurts. I've never received an apology from the ones who mistreated me, or from the church where they attended, but it would feel so nice and would ease certain bitterness, anger, and disappointment if they would. What you have hopefully read and understood from this story is that there are so many homosexuals (and others) out there, hurting, and that much of that hurt has come from the church itself. And there's no reason for it. Sinners don't have to be feared, hated, bashed, belittled, tortured, rejected or anything else like that. Instead, they should be loved.

You can't help people if you treat them like crap. You have to set a good example, and pray and help them to be better people. And even if that doesn't work, you must still love, pray and help them, but also understand that each person has his or her own decisions to make in life. You may not like some of the decisions other people make, but these are their decisions to make and their lives to live. Just because you disagree with them, doesn't mean you should mistreat them. That never says anything about them, or helps them in any way whatsoever. But it does say something rather negative about you if that is the sort of person you choose to be. So, don't be that type of Christian. And, if you have been in the past, seriously think about saying "I'm sorry" to the person you mistreated.

Tonight's Weather Report

I love watching it lightning at night time. Tonight I saw an approaching storm and decided to sit out on the front porch to watch it. It wasn't anything more than a few rumbles and some rain. It didn't quite make it south enough to reach where I live though, but the split seemed to be just over my house. It was awesome to look up and see the most amazingly clear sky full of sparkling stars, and then right next to it, these huge masses of clouds, with lightning dancing all about them. It was truly magnificent to watch. It was as if nature was putting on a fireworks display of its own.

It was warm today. Humid, too. I'm sure that's what brought this all about. Most of the lightning was probably nothing more than heat lightning. But regardless, it was so peaceful out tonight. The nearby storm brought with it a cooler air, which really did help take away some of the humidity. And I found it all so calming. I see the beauty and wonder of God in such things. It's as if God was giving me a great gift, a wondrous spectacle of His created nature.

Not only was there lightning. There were lightning bugs in the yard and in the trees and fields, glittering over everything. And the crickets and tree frogs were singing steadily and softly.

I just love summer.

Why Does It Matter?

I keep thinking about what it means to say I’m gay. I’ve usually meant that in terms of what sexual attractions I have for other people; I find men attractive, and women sort of neutral. It’s also meant how I come to think about myself as well though. But I wonder if I have perceived being gay as meaning what sort of sex I’d like to have, rather than what sort of relationships I would like to have. I keep thinking about the relationship I had with Eve. It wasn’t built on sex, or for that matter sexual desire. It was built on friendship, care, love, and emotion.

I keep having trouble trying to figure myself out. I feel as though so much of the time I’ve only been thinking about wanting a sexual relationship, or something lustful, or someone to help cure periods of loneliness, rather than the sort of relationship, if any, I should have been looking for.

Maybe too many people are just looking for sex. I wonder if maybe that’s what I was really looking for or wanting all those years rather than a serious, healthy relationship. What I had with Eve wasn’t what I expected it to be. It wasn’t what I’d been looking for in a relationship. It was far better than anything I’d been looking for, and it was far different than what I’d wanted.

I guess my point is that maybe I’d been focusing too much on wanting a particular kind of sex when I should have been focusing on wanting a healthy relationship with someone, built on friendship, trust, and love. And I wonder if that’s the case with others; particularly among gay identified men. Maybe we are too focused on sex itself, rather than on what really makes sex something meaningful and special.

And maybe we identify who we are too much upon trivial differences. I know I’m not as masculine as a lot of men. But how is that something that should make me feel different from other men? Not all men, even straight men, are masculine. A lot of men aren’t masculine. And, really, since when should one’s level of masculinity define who they are as a person? Why has that mattered to me?

If being with Eve made me realize anything, it’s that all those stupid labels people put upon themselves don’t really matter at all. Being gay or straight, bisexual, tall, short, fat, skinny, ugly, beautiful, black, white, purple, green, or yellow, none it really matters. You just are who you are. It’s just that causing those labels to box yourself into a corner in life isn’t any good; you become limited so much.

I’m not sure being gay really means that much to me anymore. Not that it was ever anything to feel prideful about or anything like that, but just that it was a big part of how I saw myself. Maybe some of those old mindsets of mine have become broken somewhat. I’m not saying I’m no longer gay, or that I’m no longer attracted to men. I’m just saying that the fact that I am doesn’t seem to matter so much to me anymore. As though being gay is no better or worse than any other part of me. It’s just another thing, and not something that should limit me any more than the color of my hair or the shape of my eyes. It doesn’t really matter.

Something Special

It’s been a long time since I wrote on this blog. I hadn’t planned on taking such a long break, but it just sort of happened that way. The last few months have been… well, I’m not sure how to describe them. School was pretty difficult this time around. I had some hard classes and a lot to have to do. I had to complete and then revise a TPA, which determined whether I’d be allowed to become a student teacher this fall. That was a very tiresome and stressful project. There was a lot riding on it. The revisions alone were two weeks worth of nearly killing myself in order to complete, on top of everything else I needed to do for my regular classes.

School has taken up a great deal of my time the last few months. It wasn’t all that took up my time though. I wrote something very foolish a few months ago. And to be honest, I feel like it was a different me that wrote it. I said something to the effect that a woman wanting to be with me was not a blessing. I was wrong to ever think that. From mid February until just a couple of weeks ago I had a girlfriend. Remember that girl I talked about liking me from school, who had become a great friend, but one that I knew liked me more romantically? We continued spending time together outside of school. We went on a date. We didn’t call it that, but that’s what it was. We went somewhere to eat in the next county, and then saw a movie together. I’ll admit, I remember feeling very nervous about being with her, but at the same time feeling so drawn to her. My mind is filled with that memory right now. I can see every moment, her reactions, expressions, and remember half of what we talked about and the sound of her voice. I’d nearly forgotten though just how long it took us to say goodnight to each other. When we got back in the county, we just sat in the car and talked, neither of us really wanting the evening to end. We emailed each other back and forth several times that same night. From then on we were a couple.

For the purposes of this blog, I’ll name her Eve. We hadn’t dated long when I told her how I feel about other men. She handled that news rather incredibly. She said that it didn’t matter. And I’m sure it never did. I never expected to find someone who’d feel that way. It was a great relief that she felt that way, that she still wanted me.

Eve and I did everything together. We took a trip to Nashville, which was one of the best experiences of my life. We saw the Hermitage, the Parthenon, went to Opry Mills, bought books. At the gift shop at the Hermitage, we both headed straight for the children’s books. When we were checking out, the cashier asked if we were both teachers. She said she could usually tell whenever a person goes straight for the kids books like that. Both of us left there feeling a little proud—we were recognized as teachers!

Eve introduced me to her family. They were really nice and I enjoyed meeting them. And when her stepmom cooked spaghetti, something Eve knew I wasn’t fond of, she covered for me. I don’t know anyone else in my life that would have done that. Anyone else I know would have put me on the spot and made a big to do about it. Instead, she looked out for me.

We went bowling together with her daughter. I had so much fun that night. We had fun. It was really the first time I’d gotten to be around… oh, I’ll call her Gracie, and it was great. For a fleeting moment, I remember thinking that night, so this must be what it’s like to have a family.

We watched movies at her place. The first time we did this, she snuggled up against me. My heart was beating so fast. We held hands and kissed. I looked into her eyes and watched as they turned from a bluish gray to the most amazing shade of blue I’ve ever seen, so bright and glimmering. I remember being so amazed by that. I was sort of dumbstruck by it, actually, and I commented on it. “Your eyes are so blue,” I told her. And then it dawned on me, “Like a mood ring.” I knew she loved me. There’s something about that that I know has changed me forever. She loved me.

She took me to two of her most favorite spots. We walked across an old wooden bridge, held each other. We sat by a lake, and watched as the sun went down and the stars filled the sky—we had trouble finding the little dipper and the north star. She was cold and I held her to keep her warm, and gave her my jacket.

We helped each other with our homework and with finishing our TPAs. We ate lunch together every day after classes. I waited for her to finish her last class; she waited for me. We helped each other study for tests. Every time we were together it was like we were magnets being pulled toward each other.

Eve and I made a lot of plans. We were going to go camping this summer together, go on a few more Nashville-like trips, maybe go fishing, spend more time together just in general. She’d wanted to celebrate graduation together this next Christmas by going on a cruise to Mexico. I was really looking forward to all of these things. We’d even discussed our feelings about marriage, kids, what sort of future we could have together.

I played Candy Land with Gracie. I hit a baseball for her to practice catching for Little League. I danced with her in the living room. I watched some of her favorite television shows with her. I read books to her. I won’t lie and say that I always enjoyed being around her. I didn’t most of the time. I liked Gracie. She was a good, sweet little girl. But I never knew how to respond to or act around her. I always felt like I was going to break her or be too rough to play with her like I do with my nephews. And she cried at the least little thing. She’s a very emotional child. But Eve was really good with her. I saw how good a mother she was. And that meant a lot.

I have so many great memories now. I experienced so many great things. I felt loved. I felt for the first time in a really long time that I could actually end up having a family of my own. That’s something quite indescribable to experience. I fell in love with someone for the first time in my life…

For a couple of weeks I knew something was different. Something happened that shook our relationship. We talked and agreed to stand by each other, but within just a few days time, after everything had ran its course, I knew there was a problem. And then she broke up with me. For a few days after that I felt like someone had ripped something physically and emotionally away from me, as if an entire part of me and future outcome of my life had been destroyed forever. And I still feel that way some. I cried and hurt until I was exhausted. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly felt so great a sense of loss at any other time before.

I’m honestly not sure why she decided to break up with me. But I will concede it may have honestly been for the best. Maybe she saw that before I could. I know myself enough to know that committing to marry her would have been really hard. It would have been really difficult for me to give up some of my own plans and dreams in life to have stayed with her. But still, I could see myself having done that for her, for us. I think I’ll always wonder what we could have had together though—the life we could have shared. We’re still going to be friends. We both agreed we wanted that. We agreed from the beginning that whatever happened between us, we wanted to remain friends. But that’s not quite the same thing, is it.

God blessed me. For a time in my life I got to experience something so wonderful, so unexpected, something I have absolutely no regrets about. I know what it’s like to really be loved. I know what it’s like to really be in love with someone else. I know what it’s like to be a part of something so special that no words I know can even begin to describe how I feel about it.

I don’t feel like I’m the same person anymore. I feel like God showed me something that’s changed my life forever. It’s such a beautiful thing how God can mess with you like that sometimes. And I’m glad I let him. He showed me something I’d have never seen otherwise.