There Was a Time, But Times Change

There was a time in my life when I would wake up everyday feeling like the world was crushing me under its thumb. I felt like with every step I took I was being pulled into the quicksand of life. During these times of my life, I would pray to God, everyday, to take me home, to crush me under a rock, or run me over with a car. I would beg for everything to be over with. I couldn't stand being. With every breath I breathed, I felt my lungs burn inside of me. Every time I looked at myself, I would sneer in hateful derision. I was nothing and I felt that that nothingness needed to be snuffed out. And there were times, when God didn't answer me, I tried to take the life and snuff it out for myself. I wanted my light to stop shining.

There were times in my life, from the time I was thirteen years old to barely six months ago, that life seemed to be burdened with my existence in it. But something has happened to me. I am not sure, as I have written many times before, what has happened. The abyss no longer craves the blood that flows through me and the darkness is quelled by the light that shines in my song, my voice, and in the words that bleed from my veins. I have changed, though probably not in the way that my family has thought the change would come.

Years ago, I was talking to my mother about life and the challenges that plagued me. I was talking about the darkness that surrounded me. (I know the pain that I felt was felt by my mom; she and I have always been so close. The closeness must stem from the bond that she and I have shared since my conception. I would call my mom one of my best friends and I think she would agree with me.) During our conversation, she told me of an experience she had while she was praying. She said she was praying for me and praying that I would be okay; she said she was praying that I would find joy in life. And she said she received an answer to her prayer. She said she heard that I would be okay; she knew that I would be happy and find joy because of the answer to her prayer.

She and I, however, have different interpretations of the answer to her prayer. She knows that the answer means that I will come back to the church, marry in the temple, and find joy in raising a family. While that is a very beautiful interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I have told her on different occasions that that answer doesn't mean I will no longer be gay. I have told her that my joy in life may reside in something other than how she and my dad have found their joy in love and marriage in the temple.

No matter the true answer to the interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I believe I have started to walk the path that will lead me to be "okay." I know the path I walk on is taking me to joy and love and peace. God is answering my mom's prayer. Life is taking me down a path that I don't know the end to; of course, I don't know that there is an end, but life has me walking down this path and my head is held high. The days of wanting God to crush me under His thumb feel years behind me. The times, when I wished for life to take the energy and the body it had given me and snuff out the light in me, seem to be just figments of illusion.

These days, I walk with my candle burning bright for the world to see. A smile comes easily to my face. A laugh leaps to my throat for all to hear. A song resides in my breast and sings for all to hear. A spark of life dances in my eyes like the twinkling light of the stars at night for all to witness. These days, though I know death is coming, I don't rush headlong into the fray hoping for death to take me. These days laughter is what I crave. Love is what I need. And life is the most exciting and brilliant adventure that I find myself racing with to a brighter everyday. Namaste.