I’ve had several realizations during yesterday evening at my parents and over this morning, while trying to get out of bed and then going to church. Some of which, I am sure I have had before, but have forgotten, and maybe some new ones that I will forget. I have felt so guilty last night and this morning thinking of when he took me out on Friday for my birthday and how I said goodbye. I got out of the car and he gave me his usual huge loving hug, then I gave him a kiss, then I stood there for several seconds as we looked at each other, waiting for him to kiss me back. Hello, attempting guilt trip (although unintentional). Plus, could I devise a better plan of attack to make him not want to see me: make myself look more desperate and more pathetic and more needy and more [insert your own self-deprecating adjective]. I hate that he gave me such a wonderful night and I chose to end it like that. I hate that he is so okay and happy with his life at the moment, and I only show him how miserable I am. I hate that with every tear I cry and with every weak moment, to him, I am confirming his decision.
If I say I love Chad, and I do, then I have to show him that. To show him that, I have to not only respect his decision but allow him to make it without forcing myself on him, no matter how desperately I need him. To truly love someone you must hurt—to love them, you let them make their own choice and even if it hurts you, you choose to love them anyway. ICorinthians 13:4 (I went to hear TB teach this morning—always wonderful, meaningful, and tearful) says: Love is patient. God has been patient with me with no guarantee of my returning his love (even though He does know the final outcome and I don’t). Should I not have the same patience with Chad without any guarantees? If I love Chad, then I simply love Chad. It isn’t conditional on him still loving me in the way I want him to, it isn’t dependent on him making the choices I believe are right and healthy, it isn’t dependent on him even desiring to see or talk to me anymore. From the beginning, when I realized I wanted to be with Chad, that I needed who he was in my life, I loved him for everything Chad was and is. That hasn’t changed. I have to show him that I respect him, his choices, and his freedom. I have to leave him alone to let him live his life. If he chooses to come back or not. I have to let him be him. Period. I have to show him I love him. Period. It’s not how I want to show him that I love him (and maybe he won’t even notice or care enough to consider it, but, once again, my love for him is not dependent on that either), but I do love him; therefore this is what I must do.
On the flip side, and completely opposite note, I have been getting in touch with my anger at people, and the world in general. I am angry with the people in his life that simply supported his feelings and didn’t help us fight for our relationship, even though they always told us they couldn’t believe how good we are for each other. Truth is so much more than a feeling. Just because we are feeling something doesn’t mean it is our only option, or that it is even what we should do. Maybe what he chose is exactly what he should have chosen, maybe not. Either way, I think it is vital for us to be good friends to others to not only support their feelings but also help them know when they might need to sit with their feelings, work on figuring out how to fix them or nurture them, and to fight for the good things in our lives, regardless. Anything worth anything in life takes a lot of work, a lot fear-facing, a lot of tears, and a lot of fighting for its life. Our society is much too quick to simply ask what we are feeling and use those feelings as a declaration of truth, instead of what they truly are (an indication of an area of our life that needs some focus and attention).
The other beef I have with our culture (not just gay culture, but the American—higher educated—more ‘enlightened’ culture) is our oxymoron believes. Everything we think about (books, movies, music, everything) is most often about finding love, being in love, building a life together. However, the minute that is found, the focus is on learning how to be yourself, how to be fine on your own, not needing the other person too much, not loosing yourself to them, not changing who you are. In moderation, all those things are true, but I truly think the way we think about it is fucked up. To be a good pairing, both parties must bring themselves together and keep what made them special individually so that the pairing is stronger and more complete. However, we take it to an extreme, you can not come together with someone else, build a life together, and have a ‘soul-mate’ if you don’t change who you are, if you don’t need them too much, if they do not become a part of your very essence. The entire point is two becoming one, not two squishing together to form a very crowded two, pushing and shoving jostling for position. In our fucking quest to be fully realized, whole, independent, modern individuals, we have made a culture of people who only know how to be alone, only take care of ourselves, and build up walls so that others can’t change us (God forbid), and have made it where we are all alone, no matter who we ‘devote’ ourselves to.
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