Of Past and Present

Dear Sentry,

Tonight I wish to write about the past and how it inevitably is connected to the present. I apologize in advance for these words will likely not have much humor in them. More likely, they will possess a sober kind of sorrow. But whatever they will contain, I still wish to write them for you to read and for you to speak in response to.

Tonight was a night of conversations. It was a night where discussions ranging from political philosophy to the great evil of certain denominations were held. Some conversations were light-hearted and others sobering to a degree of annoyance. But in each case, I was present to either listen or add to the conversation.

I wish to talk to you about one conversation where a casual emotion ran the breadth of the conversation with one speaker. Now, I could be wrong in my assessment of the situation, but I will still share my thoughts on it anyway. The speaker, a guy only a few years older than me, seemed to see the world in a black and white scenario with the only deviance from the theists being the reverse of what is evil and what is good. The LDS Church was cast in evil vocabulary and the gays were cast in good vocabulary. Every motive of the Church was driven towards the ultimate goal of total and absolute control over its followers. I weary at this view. Why? Well, tonight, it reminded me of decisions that I made years ago that have haunted my life for nine years now.

I made the choice to avoid my very being and be celibate at the age of sixteen. I chose to avoid the possibility of companionship, romance, and the fulfilling of one of the deepest, most poignant aspects of human existence: love. For seven years I chose that path and then I chose to change that. My point in all of that is that I chose this path. I was not ordered by the Church to do so. I was not caught in some web of control by some great authoritative force out to abuse and absorb my choices. I chose it and suffered the consequences of that choice until I could bare it no more and then sought true knowledge and understanding in life. In each situation, it was my choice and the consequences are mine alone to bare. I do not blame my childhood religion for my choice. I merely acknowledge the sources of my knowledge and see myself alone to blame and praise for my actions.

I think it unnecessary to pass the blame onto others. Yes, I do believe my childhood religion has much to answer for and certainly has blood on its hands. But I will not absolve myself of all responsibility for my actions. I am perfectly capable of deciding things. It was my fault for not truly understanding the nature of my choices. I accepted this several years ago and have since absolved myself of my guilt in choosing the incorrect path. I was but a child when I made my choices. Sure, I was making decisions with incredibly far-reaching consequences but I learned, grew, and am happier now than ever before.

There is enough evil in this world, Sentry. Why do we have to keep finding more enemies and villains in the shadows of life and the recesses of our memories? Why can't we find more heroes? Well, I refuse to succumb to that. The Mormon Church can be whatever it wishes. I don't care. My heroes are my wife, my best friend here, my best friend in San Diego, one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, my roommate  for his courage and hope, and so many more individuals.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on that one emotion. I'm sure I took it way out of context but I feel that I have expressed my opinions well enough. Tomorrow, I wish to talk further about relationships with you, Sentry.

Your friend,
Traveler

P.S. A song that I rather enjoy :) (to lighten the mood a little)

Heads Up!

Dear Sentry,

As usual, I am behind on blog posts. Hopefully I can fix that in the next several days. But in the mean time, I wished to draw your attention to the yearly event that you may or may not know about. Why do I draw your attention? Really, now, Sentry, it should be obvious by now.

I fully confess to acting weird on the ninth, tenth, fifteenth, and twenty-third of this month. Those are the days that I use to ponder and reflect, make goals, and renew my desire to improve my life. This tradition began in sorrow and now continues in joy. So, if I am moody when you talk to me on those days, Sentry, don't be offended. Those are the days when I fully acknowledge that I am allowed to cry without shame, laugh without worry of what others think, and ponder without worry of getting a headache.

It is, in my opinion, the chance to refresh and renew this so-called spirit of mine. Thank you for understanding, Sentry. And to finish this post, I feel I should at least post pictures of my favorite guy in picture.

Your friend,
Traveler

Warning: Objectifying Is Happening Below

Dear Sentry,

I had a conversation with my roommate this morning that made me pause to reflect and ponder. This, naturally, caused problems for me as I was too late to go to class and am now writing this at a time when I would rather have been learning about the break up of the USSR. Sentry, I think there's something wrong with my brain. I enjoy learning a little too much. The other day, I caught myself giggling with joy over the things I had to read for my classes.

*whisper* Help me...

What was I talking about? Oh yes, my conversation with my roommate. My roommate showed me two pictures: one of a man and one of a woman. Now, being the savvy, self-aware individual that I am, I couldn't help but agree with him that both people were incredibly beautiful. He then asked which one I thought was hotter. Such a funny question. The guy was hotter. Why? Because the patterns of thought that my brain goes down did the following:

Male vs. Female: which do I like more? Male.
Beauty vs. Beauty: which do I like more? Beauty.
So...Beauty + Male = the guy

My roommate, a straight man, thought that the girl was hotter.

Why do I share this with you, Sentry? I mean, besides from the fact that I like to pretend that throwing made up equations into any conversation makes me sound more legit (it's true, you know). My roommate wanted me to admit that I found both individuals hot. I did. I mean, sure, the lady was quite hot. But...I mean, he asked me to pick between a guy and a gal. What did he expect?

My point in all of this...um...I just realized that I can't add pictures of men and women in scantily clad clothing to this post right now since I'm on a school computer and that will look...odd...So, I will finish this post later, Sentry. 


I'm back and sleep deprived! Here are photos! All women photos minus Madaleine Albright come from my wife's blog mormonlesbian.blogspot.com . The rest were found around the web. So my question for you is this: who do you find hot among these photos?

 

My personal favorite, Sentry, is former model Kevin Gould. So cute!!! See for yourself!

Okay, I need sleep.

Your friend,
Traveler

Astrology and Idiocy

Dear Sentry,

I'd ask how you are doing, but at the moment, I really don't care. Please feel free to shrug off my indifference to your state of being and let me indulge in my thoughts for a bit. Yesterday was not a productive day as far as being a good student and studying hard. I dropped the books and traveled to Salt Lake City to go hang out with a group of gay men. It saddened me that a lady friend of mine could not travel with me but hopefully that will be corrected at another time.

The drive up was interesting. I enjoy watching how people interact with each other. Attraction is a fascinating thing to observe because, let's be honest, we are pathetic when we flirt. It makes no difference, in my opinion, what your gender or gender preference is. You'll still look like a dork to an outsider as you flirt. Those romance comedies, in my opinion, are so popular because of the fact that they spotlight human idiocy when it comes to falling in love. We say, talk, and do weird things. Sometimes it's cute, such as the physical connection of holding onto another's arm or the touching of a shoulder lightly. Sometimes it's awkward, say with a person being slightly intoxicated and touching the leg of a stranger or forcing hugs with a person they've barely met. Other times it's incredibly creepy, say like when a perfect stranger runs his hands down the arm of another stranger without any other communication while moving past them on the way to the bathroom or other location. Sure, you could argue this last one is more like an accidental bump, Sentry. But really now, have you ever considered how creepy it is to be minding your own business, unaware of the approach of this stranger, and then feeling his hand go from your shoulder to your elbow in a sweeping, semi-intimate touch. Not fun.

Attraction is interesting in how it drives a person to connect with another person. I think that we as people insist on there being order to the chaos in our lives. We insist that opposites attract, that straight men are in denial, that you must be a certain body type to attract the attention of your peers, that gays are an abnormality or perverse mental disorder or just plain odd, and that lesbians are always mere minutes away from pulling out their moving vans upon meeting a fellow lesbian. And while all this has a certain degree of truth to it (in some cases that truth is just simply wishing it were so), let's be honest, Sentry, there can only be one response to this: What the hell is wrong with us?

Now, for me, eyes are one of the most attractive feature on a person. In fact, eyes can be so compelling that they can make a straight man out of me on occasion (extremely rare occasions, mind you). Eyes can be brilliant or dull, Sentry. They can convey so much emotion or none. Basically, they entertain and fascinate me for hours. One example that comes to my mind almost immediately are the eyes of my "wife." I love her dearly and the thing that catches my attention the most is how expressive her eyes are. Her most vivid and powerful emotions are irritation and anger...so it's fun to get her annoyed. Now, she may read this, Sentry, so I should tell her now: you're awesome and I love you! Sending you love and lights always! *wink*

Another example comes from a guy that I saw last night. He had the most beautiful green eyes that I've ever seen. The green was distinct and clear and not cloudy or murky as my blue eyes can be. This, by the way, is not a slight on me, Sentry. Rather, his eyes were the most deliberate green I've seen and made me wonder if he were wearing contacts. They were mesmerizing, honestly, Sentry. Mesmerizing.

My final thought on attraction is on what governs who we like. This is something I've thought on a lot lately. See, sadly, I've been going about it the wrong way. I've always that I was attracted to people that are kind or compassionate, intelligent, and such because I find that personality intriguing and possessing of endless possibilities. Evidently I have been wrong in assuming that I am attracted to this because I find these qualities admirable. Last night, I discovered that the stars are responsible for this attraction. In my case, the moon has assisted or has some roll in determining this (I'm a bit confused on this point). So I say to that constellation (oh all right and the moon), Thank you. Can you provide me a man now? Yes, Sentry, astrology is what I'm talking about. No, I'm not joking, so please stop laughing or I will smack you later. I, being a Cancer (remind me to tell you an awkward story about that later), am evidently ideally matched with Pisces. Why? Cause crabs like fish? (That reminds me of another quite lame joke) Cause somehow our personalities work...

...

Anyway, I'm sure there are more meaningful and insightful explanations for the whys behind this...but I don't know them. And with that, Sentry, those are my thoughts on attractions and such from my experiences last night. Fun, huh? Oh, and a parting song at the end of this letter.

Your friend,
Traveler

Secrets

Dear Sentry,

Tonight I write on secrets, Sentry. I write about them as one who has not learned his lesson. See, shortly after I graduated from high school I was told I see the world through rose-tinted glasses. This came about when a friend was telling me that I had a crush on a pothead and wasn't seeing him for what he was. While I hope I have improved some in the six years since that event, I know that I am still a very naive boy.

I accept that I see the world through idealistic lenses. I've known this for a long time. I try to see the world just as it is, Sentry, but I fail so many times. I want the world to be this way so I pretend it is and than I am jarred back to reality when the truth of the situation or situations seeps back in again.

Sentry, the worst secrets for me are the ones that are about relationships. I hate when men that are married confess their unfaithfulness to me. I hate when women discuss their disgust in their partners and express longing for others. I am tired of knowing these lies and carrying them, Sentry.

Now, I know that couples are not perfect. Not all husbands and wives are faithful. Friends are not always honest. Moral individuals can be liars, leading double lives. Evil often is not committed through grand acts of show but in small, secretive acts. This I have come to understand a little more.

Over the past year I have met husbands that profess faith in their churches, love for their wives and children, but are unfaithful in their marital beds. I have met men and women in relationships that express love with a kiss on their lover's cheek or lips and then slip off to kiss another that is not their own. I have met individuals that stand up for so-called righteous causes but come the still of the night express their hearts in a different manner.

Secrets.

They intertwine with every aspect of the fabric of society, Sentry. I fully accept the fact that nothing that I have written is anything new or shocking. I accept that it is I who must change in this. I am wrong about the world around me. I am wrong in how I have chosen to perceive the world around me. Those that I have looked to as role models or even simply as people that I thought fit my model of a good person have let me down. This, Sentry, is to be expected.

So why am I writing any of this? I mean, honestly, gays are notorious for keeping secrets. So many of us hide our very identity from ourselves or masquerade it in word plays such as same-gender attraction, temptations, weaknesses, and so on. We play the roles that families, friends, religions, and societies try to demand of us. Some continue their secrets until more lives are entangled in it. Sometimes we hide from the truth for decades and decades. But as always, we have our secrets. And we are not alone. No one person is somehow immune to this. I have my secrets.

So why am I writing this?

I am writing this because it breaks me heart. My idealism tells me I should be honest about how I feel and think. I should be honest towards others. People should be honest towards me and others. But we are not. We cannot. So, Sentry, I accept that reality is not as I wish it to be. I accept that I am the one that must change. I must yield to reality.

But know this, Sentry, I am tired. I have learned one thing in all of this, one tiny shred of learning: I want to one day marry a man that is honest.

So for now, Sentry, what do I do to accept this real world. How do I find a way to live in this world where secrets intertwine with so-called reality? I already know I am a coward and weak. But these two things do not help me to cope, adjust, and find a way to live in such a way as to accept the world around me and try to do what I think is right.

So I ask, Sentry, what answers can you give me?

Your friend,
Traveler

P.S. I feel like this song is most accurate (from Jekyll and Hyde):

Intolerable

Dear Dad,

As goes without saying, I love you. You have taught me many things in life and I am grateful for that. But I write this letter out of frustration and it is directed at you. Seriously, Dad, grow up. While I was watching the first episode of Glee, you walked in for perhaps ten seconds, watched a clip and made a comment that irritated me. Here's the clip, in case you forgot:

You made the comment, "I don't want to watch any show where a girl sings 'I kissed a girl.'" Why did this frustrate me? Because you speak out of ignorance. Yes, you have the right to listen to what you want and believe what you want, however intolerant or stupid it may be. But had you watched the rest of the show, or even another episode, you would have discovered that girl is straight and just loves to push the boundaries. But no, you had to make your judgment based off of whatever moral standard you think is right.

Now on to what lies beneath your bigotry. I am tired of hearing you spout phrases and comments from Rush Limbaugh to defend an ideology I am so certain you have barely thought through. How is it you can comfortably say that the government has no right to lay claim to your money or make laws that protect the rights of others from your views and your opinions? How is it you can believe that Democrats, gays, feminists, and so many others are evil, misguided, and full of hate when all I ever hear from you is bitterness, anger, and frustration? How is it that you believe the government has the right, that you in particular have the right, to intervene in the life of a pregnant woman and tell her what to do with the baby? How is it that you can tell gay men and women that they are second class citizens in this country, undeserving of the most basic of rights? How is it that you can claim that the real victims in the United States of America are white Christians? I am sick of this.

Let that girl, or any girl throughout this whole wide world, say that she likes kissing a girl. Let her. I am not particularly interested in this or even find it attractive but I don't recall thinking that what I think or want matters to that girl. She doesn't care and that's perfectly fine. You, Dad, are permitted to like Mom because society agrees that their opinion doesn't matter in this. They simply support a union forged in love and commitment to each other. Never mind that your beliefs are repulsive and blasphemous to fundamentalist, evangelical Christians. Never mind that your political views are laughable to nearly half the citizens of this great nation. Never mind that your words, spoken with flippancy, have hurt those around you. Never mind any of that. It doesn't matter. That a girl could like a girl causes you to speak with such disgust and hatred is what frustrates me. Grow up and get over it. We're different and that's that.

What will you say to me in the future? I am gay and proud of it. That has taken me years to reach this point that I could even state that. It has taken me years to even look myself in the eye in the mirror and to even be comfortable in my own skin. Why? Because people like you have taught me that I am evil, selfish, and unwanted by God. You have sought to set at naught the very teachings of the God you believe in and that disappoints me. There is already so much cruelty, despair, and hopelessness in this world. How dare you add to it.

If she were real, I'd say push boundaries. Let all society enter into the debate on whether what's being pushed is good or not, without the employment of hate. We as a nation have never achieved perfection. Our greatest moments in history are not the pinnacles of our achievement, merely a point to reach on our continuous upward climb to a better society. That's what we as Americans are engaged in: a social and political experiment. I am so sick and tired of the bullsh*t that you spout. It's sickening how you think you are obligated or permitted to tear down others just to make yourself feel better. Whatever happened to the dad that I grew up with? Did I imagine a father that was more interested in the affairs of his family over what politicians on the other side of the nation did or said? Did I imagine a father that would read his scriptures, share his testimony, and talk to his children about what mattered in their lives? Perhaps...

I will let you rant and rail in my presence for as long as you feel necessary. I have my views and am no longer interested in giving heed to what you say until you can meet the most basic of my requirements for discussion. But what I will not tolerate is if you attack my friends or, someday, the person I love based on their political beliefs, religious beliefs, personal beliefs, or even their sexuality, race, or gender. This, is a warning in advance: you will never be permitted to speak rudely of the person I love. You may speak of concerns you have. But if you mock or belittle a boyfriend or my future husband on the grounds that he is gay or acts not as manly as you wish, then we will have words. Cruelty is intolerable. I will not permit your bitterness to inflict wounds upon those I love.

With that said, allow me to share things that I think are good and wholesome to me. They will likely be offensive to you. But I find Rush Limbaugh and most of your well-liked political pundits repulsive. Yet still, I sit through their hate-filled rants when I am with you and am willing to express love to you and a desire for a better world around me. You don't have to like or even watch these videos but know that they carry the message that means a lot to me: we, in all our variety as human beings, are equal to each other.

Merry Christmas, Dad. My hope is that you will find what is promised in this song below and remember what it is teaching. Christianity is not a warrior religion to me. It is the religion of the fallen, the hopeless, the forgotten. It is the religion of healing and forgiveness. It is not the religion of utterly crushing your fellow man or of utter humiliation over your opponents. It is not the religion of pride or of arrogance but of humility, of meekness, and of love.

Your son,
Frustrated

Cowardice

Dear Sentry,

I have learned something most grievous tonight. I have hurt another individual. Such a realization saddens me deeply.

So tonight, I wish to discuss an aspect of my character with you: my cowardice.

I speak such words without any attempt to elicit sympathy, pity, or forgiveness. Let us look at this calmly and with reason. You can substitute the word "cowardice" with "pathetic" if you wish, Sentry. For as the days go by I am increasingly aware of my cowardice. I see it in the little things I do and in the words I say to my friends. It fills my eyes with tears. I am no great angel of mercy in this world. I am selfish, petty, and weak.

Tonight, a friend told me that he regretted hanging out with me one night because I had made him feel horrible. I did this, Sentry. My heart is filled with such anguish and my head is hung with shame. I told this individual how truly sorry I was for what happened. In that moment, I could feel this cowardice in me become revealed. How truly, pathetically human I was, as my friend showed me. But worst of all, Sentry, he blames himself for it. He tells me that it was his fault and that I am not to blame.

That is not the case.

I am to blame. For years I was afraid to really look myself in the eye in the mirror except to put contacts in. All I could see was this pitiful creature attempting to exist, an existence down right wretched at times. The previous sentence is charged with emotion, Sentry. I recognize this. Let me take a step back and examine things. True, I have improved a lot of the past couple of years. I have shed much of my childishness. But I do believe that on some level I recognize how much cowardice still remains within me.

When I run and hide from all the stress in my life, that's cowardice. When I run and hide when someone tells me they like me, that's cowardice. When I take advantage of another, that is cowardice. So, in summation: I am a coward.

About a month ago, Sentry, I hurt a dear friend of mine. I used her without pause for consideration of her feelings. I took advantage of her. How pathetic on my part, Sentry. That she forgave me says far more about her character - merciful and kind - than it does about mine -cowardice.

A friend of mine, over the summer, expressed outrage that I belittled his friends and family members through the use of degrading labels. He showed far more courage and decency in that moment than I ever have. I am a coward.

The coward in me is a glutton, a sloth, and an idiot. He hurts people without care, Sentry. Such a loathsome creature, indeed.

Again, Sentry, in my defense, I am trying to improve. I wish such changes would occur over night but it seems I am doomed to remain the coward in slowly decreasing amounts. It saddens me that I am such a way. I am a coward because I am afraid to recognize how I should be and ignore the great need this world has for strong people.

Without attempting to invoke the phrase "the grass is greener on the other side" argument, I state this: my friends are strong. I am not. I have much to learn, Sentry. Forgive me, I ask solemnly, for this weakness within me.

Your friend,
Traveler

Introspection

Dear Sentry,

I have never questioned the reality of my many imperfections. Like so many others, I accept my flaws and then seek to magnify them tenfold, hundredfold, and so on. I find that my battles are not with outside forces but myself. I already carry the darkness that seeks to overshadow whatever bright hopes exists within my so-called soul. Doubt, shame, silence...characteristics that insidiously tell me what I can't and shouldn't do.

I am always afraid to work through these aspects of me. Why? Because I really am afraid of my potential. What if I am all that people claim I am...or worse, even more than that? I don't mean that with any form of arrogance or narcissism. I write it as one that is attempting to reconstruct his mind after such damage has been inflicted on it.

In my heart of hearts, I believe - in error that everyone but me deserves happiness. I truly do hope for happiness in the lives of my friends. I am always eager to learn of a new love interest, a new joy, a new friend. I want to believe in a happy ending for them. They deserve such happiness. But when it comes to me, I just don't believe it. I see every flaw, every falsehood, and every sickening thought that I hold within. I see my failures, unnecessarily huge in my sight, and wish to retreat and surrender. My skin is thick as well, for no amount of persuasion from friends can make me think otherwise. And, in keeping with honesty, I have always felt that the line from Beauty and the Beast applies to me, "For who could ever love a beast?" I am that beast and no amount of watching that movie through to the end can connect the beast at the beginning with the prince at the end. They are two separate beings to me. I fear that I will be alone all my life and yet feel as though I will have to accept this reality and make do. There is something rather disgusting about that attitude, don't you think, Sentry?

So yes. I do not believe I deserve happiness despite the fact that in contradiction to that belief I still strive for it. I still harbor the descendant of the view that I am somehow hideously ugly. But what about those that say I'm cute? I anticipate you're responding with. I never know what to do about those compliments, I admit. I alternate between thinking they are teasing me to just being nice. For example, "How are you?" is a phrase people say because polite society demands it but it's an empty phrase, it seems. The polite response is "Good" regardless of how you really feel. This is how I see it for the benign side of people telling me I'm cute.  And that is rather insulting, no? I reduce, arguably, genuine compliments from what they are - truthful - to lies veiled by a smile. Is my view of humanity so tainted? Am I really that cynical, Sentry?

I know that I am fragile and weak. I will stand mightily by my friends' sides and defend them till the bitter end. I will soberly take note of their many triumphs and mistakes. I will bolster them up when they are feeling down and give an outpouring of love towards them on days of sadness and days of joy. Why? Because I think people need to be reminded that they're not alone and that people do care about them. I'm a hypocrite, aren't I? Because in that same thought, I will proceed to deny my very friends the opportunity to help me. After all, I'll think to myself, I'm beyond help.

I will take verbal abuse and pretend not to show it (unless they know just exactly how to pierce that thick skin of mine). But come the end of the day, when no one is looking, I will still drop to my knees and let slip the tears down my cheeks. I have noticed that in coming out of the closet, I accepted the reality that I am emotionally vulnerable. That by allowing myself to feel, I have to actually feel. Such a funny situation, really. I used to put my most vulnerable feelings far away from where they could get hurt, psychologically speaking. But I have learned that in order to truly feel and truly allow myself to love, laugh, and care I must allow myself to be vulnerable, allow myself to be hurt. What I mean by that, Sentry, is not that I seek to start blubbering in front of people at the first mean comment thrown my way. Rather, that I become emotionally available to myself and capable of giving 100% to situation, be it amorous or amicable.

I'll be honest, even though I have shattered much of my past attitudes of how ugly and stupid I am, I still harbor those fears that I am those things to some extent. Ugliness has just shifted to the view that I am a slob and fat. Stupidity has just shifted to believing me to be lazy, not smart enough, and drearily dull. These, thankfully, are weaker than their predecessors but they still hurt. What is most interesting throughout all of this is the disgust that I possess that I am weak because of these attitudes. That is most certainly true, Sentry. So long as I see myself in such a negative light, I am weak. That weakness, though, translates into a not-so-strange phenomenon that I must rely on myself to deal with problems even when those problems drive me to my knees and cause me to do things that I will later regret. For example, I may not cut myself as frequently as I did in the past. But the temptation, however slight, remains and I have given into it before...but that's a topic for another day, Sentry. My only point is that we find ways to cope and some of those coping mechanisms are not healthy or wise to engage in. I am no different in this with how I cope.

Really, in utter honesty, you must admit that I am pathetic to some degree. I am a quarter of a century old and I still act like a child. I possess all the understanding of romantic relationships as a four year old does. I am rather stupid on that, as on so many other subjects in life. I desperately want to be done with school but I have no plan for what to do after school. I believe I am nothing special. One must accurately admit that my need for protection stems from a false view of my being weak. That desire is ultimately undermined by the need to prove to myself that I can be strong. Ah, how funny the mind works!

So, Sentry, I suppose this letter to you really qualifies as a self-examination. But that shouldn't surprise you. I am incomplete and flawed. I would love one day for my knight-in-shining-armor to capture my heart. But I think my knight is as real as any mirage in the desert. This world is full of flawed people trying to make do with what they think is right. I am no different. I can only expect from another what I expect from me. So, you cannot blame me when I admit with frustration that such expectations are paradoxically low and high since that's how I see myself.

I have much to learn, Sentry...

Your friend,
Traveler

P.S. After reading over my letter to you several times, I feel a sense of relief and peace. Relief at accurately expressing my flaws and admitting my knowledge of their flaws. Peace at expressing them and hoping that I might change and be truly capable of expressing love.