11:26 a.m. - May 11, 2003
Theologically, Iím a conservative Christian; I attend an evangelical church youíd likely think was fundamentalist in scope and mission Ė itís not Ė but itís a far cry from the live-and-let live Lutheran and Presbyterian varieties. In my Christianity homosexuality is a sin and while all sin is sin, itís a capital-S sin; it is depravity and hyper-focused on the pleasure of the body, inherently destructive, a symptom of destroyed childhoods and families. And I believe this. And I also believe that not every gay man is like that, their visages obscured by the scrim of the Media Homosexual Lifestyle; I believe, I have to, that there are gay men able to have long-term, healthy relationships, be a force for good. Iím a fool for believing that, but I try.
It is growing more difficult to straddle the fence. Extending my hands on either side I can only grasp so much yet see what Iím unable to obtain. I wonít be a satisfied Christian, I wonít be a content gay man. An either / or perspective loses too much.
All this makes me wonder if the key is to renounce gay sex and relationships, like Andy. Such a postulation makes me snicker because I think of how difficult it is for me to engage in sexual intimacy with men, ergo just donít do it and I can diminish the conflict, yet it doesnít address the sheer want I have, the one causing all these worries.
I cried while driving home.
Iím not embarrassed to admit that I cry because I never could up until last year. Perhaps one of the better lessons learned from Spec, that Iím not wholly immune to emotion.
Compiling classical music CDs for Bathsheba, heavily biased towards my own preferences of strings and chori. Violin, cello, guitar, lots more; Iím assembling CD No. 4. We havenít talked much lately though after each conversation she realizes she did all the talking and I didnít, pledging to make me talk next time; I never do. I donít talk to anybody in every sense of the word. I suppose I talk here despite censoring and writing bland prose, hesitant to reach towards kalchaino. What a beautiful word, the Greek for ďto search for the purple fishĒ meaning to delve deep into the hidden parts of the mind and heart.
Marc called Saturday and I told him I was uninterested in hanging out or going to a movie. I relied on the trusted and true Itís not a good idea and Iím certain I wonít hear back from him again.
I've shot myself in the foot.
I didn't trust him when he said nice things about me.