Crossroads and Acceptance

how many times in your life do you stand in these places – the ending of one thing, and the beginning of another, like a blank canvas spreading out in front of you, with no hide nore hint of a direction, and the brush is dangling from your hands carelessly and free. And how many times, when you’re standing in these moments do you realize that you’re standing there? Do you realize where you are, how pivotal a moment it is, and how liberatingly free it is to recognize in the stillness that you can go in any direction you choose – that the way hasn’t been plotted out and predetermined, that it is up to you to take that step, that leap, that putting one foot down in front of the other in whatever way strikes your fancy?

As for acceptance, it is two-fold. On the one hand, I had a heart-wrenching conversation with my mother about being gay. Again. This rarely goes well. But it was my sort of last ditch effort to garner some acceptance from her for what she sees to be my lifestyle choice. She does not believe gay people are born this way. She does not believe that god loves or accepts me this way, because this way is a mistake. She rejected the idea of my partner, stating that she sounds nice, but my relationships never last – to which I said “neither do 60% of marriages”. When I tried to explain nothing “turned me gay” after a diatribe about why she feels I am, she said she was sorry – but she couldn’t accept the way I’m chosing to live my life. It was gut wrenching – and had an air of finality to it. My mother, bless her, set a boundary – for the first time in almost 80 years. On the downside, that boundary was me – her only child. She loves me and always will. And as painful and hurtful as it was to hear – I accept it. I cannot change her mind, or her perceptions, and I will no longer try. We’ll continue to talk about as often as we do now – I’ll get my card at christmas and my birthday. I can expect in the mail sometime soon a packet on “curing” me. She does this occasionally. what’s an appropriate thank you gift? An empty syringe with a note that says “sorry, still didn’t work?” anti-homophobic cures? Cures for narrowminded, religious attitutdes? It’s my mother. I love her, despite how much it hurts. And I always will. But on this subject, we do not agree. And we simply never will. I can let go of that hope, now, and make steps towards my future – a family who loves and accepts me, who knows all my faults, and doesn’t care – the group I’ve made a home in. And on the other side of that coin, a soon to be family-in-law, who loves and accepts their daughter for exactly who she is, and accepts me, not even having met me yet – simply because she loves me. This is enough.

With the move now officially less than a week away, my mind is racing with everything that still needs to be done, but for all the racing, it isn’t much – not really. Pack the dishes and the photo albums. get prepared to pack a bag of essential items (sheets, towel, bathroom supplies) that will be in the car with me on moving day so it doesn’t get misplaced. Tomorrow, sign the lease, move in my first two items ( a brand new dis-assembled bookshelf, that I will then assemble) and a new vacuum cleaner. Thursday, finish going through the house and shoving things into boxes wherever necesarry. Friday: take the cats, and all my closet clothes over at night, and pick up the truck. Saturday – moving day. Done. By the time Devon returns from the Bahamas – with or without a surprise Bohemian child – I will be unpacking, and familiarizing myself with my new surroundings. I may or may not be buying a new couch. We shall see.

Step group tonight – I’m emotional and in denial that my girlfriend is leaving the country for awhile, and for at least 3 of those days it’s 90% probable we will be completely out of contact. But I think it’s a good thing, overall. And when she comes back, the countdown to the wedding commences – her best friend’s wedding, that is – then after that, by the second week of August, the world should be in a state of peace, just in time for our birthdays (we’re thinking maybe a weekend trip to Orlando), then the gradual moving in…and the beginning, officially, of our life together. I was asked if I was nervous for that, and I’ve discussed it before. No more than normal under the circumstances. And to the question “what if it doesn’t work out?” My answer is simple – “what if it does?” As we’ve both said, in tearstained romantic declarations on Saturday night, and in drives from busch gardens…I really don’t think there’s much we can’t handle. Honestly. Have I ever been able to say that before? Never. This is good. And, once again, with feeling – I can’t wait.