My Bright Joy

Dear Mom,

The words I cannot speak to you in person, I write to you in pros with the hope that one day they will reach you and touch your heart. They are not capable of doing so now, this I realize, but it is my hope that time will soften your words. Let not my choices harden your heart against me but rather let a mother's desire to understand and love her child overtake you. That is my plea.

What words can I communicate to you now that have not already been spoken? How about the words that I dare not speak. Those words, if i were to say it, would spell out the fear that I cannot name: death. The darkness that I speak of is one that follows the long and slow descent into a depression that seals off the doors to optimism, hope, and a brighter future. The thief would strip me of all humanity and therefore deprive you of your son. That fear of mine is why I do not wish to ignore my self any longer. When I ignore who I am, I invite death to come closer, a death by my own hand.

How tragic. How utterly dismal an ending to this life: cut short by the one that is alive. I have stood on the brink of that darkness and even taken a few very dangerously slippery steps down that last of all descents. I can safely say that I do not ever wish to approach that darkness again. I became familiar with it, too familiar with it. I pitied it and grew comfortable with it all while fading away. Let not death come no more by my own hand. Rather, let life draw nearer.

I will never find joy down the paths that you think right. Hopefully by the time you read this, you'll understand what I know now. I am happy right now. I am happy with where I'm at and happy to know a fraction of what life has to offer. Dearest Mother, believe me. My heart beats for my own gender by some bizarre unknown that cannot be accounted for right now. But look beyond that and see how bright my happiness is and my hope. Is not that enough? Let not your desire to save my soul overtake your common sense and compassion. It is my hope to find someone to invite into my life forever and to be invited into his life forever. I hope to build a family with him and to share my life with him through all the many twists and turns, for better or worse, and for richer or poorer. To laugh and cry with. How can that be wrong? Perhaps, when you read this you'll understand that there was never a choice to abandon my "homosexuality" but rather a choice to live or die.

You cannot escape who you are forever. You can only delay the inevitable or remove the spark of life that lies inside of you. I chose to make that spark grow brighter and I do not feel guilty about that. Not at all. Not ever.

I love you, Mom,
Your Son