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

Fanny Packs: Evil's Mark

Arch Nemesis,

It has been some time since I last wrote to you. And a lot has changed. For example, you've started wearing fanny packs while traveling Egypt. While I realize this is just your thing, can I at least make one request of you: stop. It's embarrassing that my own Arch Nemesis is being seen by the world dressed up in fanny packs, shorts down to the knees (in a not cool way), and socks half way up the calves. Really now, how am I supposed to hold my head high when I tell people that I have a worthy rival? People are starting to laugh at me. Don't make me kidnap you and force you to wear clothes that make you look decent and civilized.

What kind of a statement are you trying to make? That you've reached a point in your life that if your mother were to dress you, she'd be doing us all a favor? I may have to speak with her on that. Are you trying to be a nonconformist or are you unable to notice that such dressing is actually silly?

I only ask this because I really have to wonder what goes through your mind. Do you honestly stand in front of a mirror, check yourself over to make sure your shirt is tucked in and your fanny pack is adjusted, and then give yourself a thumbs up before making plans to (awkwardly) flirt with that girl that you like? I have to think that you do do something similar to this. Is it any wonder, then, that girls find you just "cute" and not a person with dating potential? Really, you have to at least agree with me on that.

Seeing that you are my rival, I need only briefly mention my virtuous depravity and righteous sinning to your evil, corrupt, and mournfully depraved ways. I in my humble arrogance am always right and correct while you are beyond redemption in the banality of your evil. You so quickly and willingly make statements and insinuate that people like me (my fellow gay brothers, lesbian sisters, and transgendered siblings) are somehow evil and foul. That we are somehow incomplete when he embrace that core aspect of ourselves. But as individuals meet us and get to know us; come to recognize their brothers, fathers, sisters, mothers, friends, grandfathers and grandmothers, aunts and uncles, cousins, and lovers as human they shed the belief that we are evil. We are as human as they are.

Here's the clincher: I call you all these evil things acknowledging that if people were to meet you they would fall into the same phenomena as I have previously described. The difference? I'm being satirical and you are not. How is it that reality has so escaped you? You know, in high school your attitude and views would have been understand as childish and regressive. Now, those views are just sad.

As ever, I am right in my ways and you are wrong just as the light is good and wholesome and darkness is evil and corrupt. Lose the fanny pack, Arch Nemesis. Lose it quick.

May you see reason someday,
Mr. Sanity