Writing It Out
On a brighter note, Michelle and I had lunch together yesterday! It was wonderful – as always. She’s so perfect. She’s so amazing! The man who becomes her husband is one lucky person. I don’t even know how to pinpoint her amazingness, but it’s there. After our fun-filled lunch, we looked at the art in the museum on campus. We had fun. Some of the art was absolutely fantastic; other pieces were very weird and unattractive. I need to get more into the weird stuff I suppose. Anyhow, after we were finished looking at the art and on our way out, she said she wouldn’t be going to her home until Dec. 22 or so. I said, “really?” and then she said, “we should do something before I leave.” I could have melted right then. I kind of hate that I’m so twitterpated over this girl. I am never like this. This is not me. Most people would never know I have these emotions because I am so good at hiding them. My roommate tells me I hide my emotions too much, too well, and too often. What can I do? I hate being overly transparent to people who really don’t care and just want entertainment value from my emotions. I know those types of people because I sometimes find people’s emotional struggles to be entertaining. Not that they are always laugh-out-loud funny, but that they are interesting and fun to know about. Anyhow, maybe that doesn’t make sense. Let me illustrate.
A dear friend of mine told me about her break-up last week. It was the juiciest EVER! That’s the sole reason I wanted to hear about it. My friend actually caught her boyfriend with his ex-girlfriend. The ex-girlfriend was performing oral sex on the boyfriend when my friend walked in on them. (There were a lot of “friends” in the last two sentences.)
Now you see. That story was not only funny, but unique and very dramatic. I enjoyed it. Did I really want to hear it just because I was concerned about my friend? Probably not. I wish I were that altruistic.
In any case, I need to reduce my Michelle infatuation. It almost seems borderline obsession. That’s freaky. Plus, I need to realize that she’s not going to go for a gay man. Especially once she finds out about my sexuality. She will dump me for sure. In fact, while we were eating she said she had heard of nearly 10 couples who were separated, divorced or struggling because the husband was addicted to porn. Hello! I’m addicted to porn! She said it terrified her. I wondered right then if I should just drop my interest in her, but I guess I have this hope – call it faith if you want – that I will overcome my problems with porn and homosexuality and become an influence for good in the world. Not to say that I’m not an influence for good, but I believe if I do overcome these struggles, I will be able to help people with similar struggles. I would first recommend they start with that book I finished reading. It was magnificent.
Nonetheless, when she finds out, I’m sure she’ll can me in a very polite way, and I can’t blame her for doing so. I will even support her in that decision because my baggage is the EXTRA-EXTRA LARGE kind, and nobody should have to deal with it. Sometimes I try to tell myself that this baggage isn’t that big, but I really can’t think of anyone with larger baggage on this train of life. Such is life. I still love my life, but it’s unfortunate that I’ll never be able to have a wife and family. Oh well, I’ll just have to find joy in service and money – which aren’t bad things by any means.
This is a funny thought: sometimes I think I should find a girl who has baggage similar to mine; i.e., a girl who has emotional problems of some sort. Then she would be able to accept my flaws and baggage. Then I think to myself, “Would it be good to have two people with EXTREMELY large baggage in the same compartment?” Probably not. That would mean our baggage would be very difficult for the both of us to deal with. I need someone with little baggage who can help carry mine.
Enough of the baggage talk…so I’m poor and need to find a new job. I love my current job, but it doesn’t pay well enough and I don’t work enough hours. I need to talk to a few of my friends who might be able to hook me up.
Oh yeah, before I forget, I decided I need to make a list of things I can do to beat my “Feelings of Isolation,” the first step in the compulsive behavior cycle. Feelings of isolation are the ones I’ve been feeling tonight. I feel alone and unlovable. It’s a bad combo. Fortunately, I’ve not turned to the Internet, i.e. porn, for comfort. Whoopee! Two whole weeks of staying clear from the Internet! I deserve a brownie! Sheese. I really have felt tempted all day long. I just want to cuddle with a man. Please, someone let me cuddle with you. That’s all I need. Yeah right. If I were able to cuddle, the next thing I’d want is sex. And I know I’d never feel satisfied. That’s the nature of my homosexuality – it’s unquenchable! I’ve heard too many accounts of people who feel unfulfilled. In fact, a gay man from NY wrote me once – he’s an ex-Mormon – and told me that sex will never make me feel fulfilled. He’s right. I realize that. I bet most people in this world are simply pursuing fulfillment when they turn to deviant behaviors. I think about drugs all the time now because I think they could help me deal with my problems better. Who am I kidding? I know drugs will just mess me up even more. It’s irrational, but it sure sounds nice.
Writing makes me feel better. Just a half hour ago I was so lonely and unhappy. I’m actually feeling better now. Weird.
What I want to do to overcome my feelings of isolation: serve others, visit people randomly, set up game nights, write letters to people, make more friends, go on dates, plan activities, plan one-on-one activities. I love one of my good friends from class. She’s wonderful. I wish I could mention her name specifically, but her name is unique so people would be able to identify both her and me. I just want to say that she is a fun, fun person with great people skills. She loves to talk and I love her. I thought of her because she is so thoughtful and considerate of others. What a great quality.
Okay, I’m going to go watch a movie now.
PEACE! (I wish I felt it all the time.)
2 Comments:
But is it so that you write only when you are sad and unhappy, dear? Probably.. it just help you take your emotions out - which is what makes you feel better. You are too scared to talk about your emotions with others, so you choose this way. Admit it now!
You know what is right - but you still do all the wrong things, aint you?
What people never realize is that death is the ultimate happiness, do you realize it?
No, I really don't write only when I'm sad. In fact, so far only two or three blogs were written when I was feeling down. You see, it's hard to get myself to write when I am down. I usually want to watch a movie so I can stop thinking altogether. It takes quite a bit of effort to write a blog when I'm feeling like crap.
However, you're right that writing does make me feel better when I am feeling blue. You're also right that I am too scared to talk about my emotions with close friends. (Happy now? I admitted it. :) )I would love to open up sometimes, but I just don't think it's worth it. I have actually been praying to find some friends/relatives with whom I can share my emotions openly. It's a big step, and I'm a wuss. I realize my pent-up-ness is not healthy. I'm working on it! :)
It's weird because I can talk openly with strangers about my sexuality. I've seen counselors and even attended a large conference for gay men once, and it wasn't an issue to open up to them. It was probably because I felt safe around them. These people did not judge me, and I knew they wouldn't talk about my problems to others.
Regarding your second-to-last statement, yes, that's how I feel a lot of the time: I know what is right, but I do the wrong things. That's what inspired this blog in the first place.
As for the last sentence, death actually scares me...er...to death. I find no comfort in the thought of it. Drugs -- NOW THERE'S A REAL SOLUTION TO MY PROBLEMS! Though I'm only joking about taking drugs, I honestly do think about drugs every once in a while. I like the idea of an escape. Logically, though, I know drugs will only compound my problems. Don't worry; I'm not going to get into drugs.
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