Outed Again....

As I suspected, my friend Kurt found out through one of our old coworkers who used to be with Toby.  The way I understand it is, my coworker had gotten mad at Toby after he said that he'd told me about their relationship (or whatever it was), and so Toby said something like, "It's okay though, because GMP is gay too."  Funny consolation prize, that.  And then my coworker had mentioned it to Kurt briefly, perhaps before realizing what he'd said.  I dunno.  Whatever the case, I've already spoken with them both about keeping quiet and they responded positively.

I called Toby Friday morning to confront him about it.  I asked him what made him feel like it was okay to tell the coworker that I was gay, and what made him feel like it was justified in telling me about my coworker.  I told him that I repeatedly imposed him not to tell people about me, a request I know he disobeyed twice and I suspect perhaps more than that.  He said that it just came up.  I reject that.  I refuse to accept that, and I told him so.  His sleepy response?  "Could we talk about this later?"

Well, no, Toby, we can't talk about this later.  I am not going to bring it up ever again.  I am going to remove you completely from my life.  I am going to extract myself from our circle of friends and the extracurricular activities we participate in.  Before, I passively removed myself from your sphere of influence; now I intend never to see you again.

Contrary to how it sounds, I'm not angry.  I was, but I'm not anymore.  I'd love to hear some kind of apology from Toby, but they're always fraught with excuses:  "I'm sorry, but...."  I'm giving up hope that I ever will get a straight response from him and I'm moving on to greener pastures and more loyal friends.  I probably would have elected to keep my coworker and Kurt out of my circle, but as before, they're respectful and non-judgmental people, so I'll be fine.  And I'll be lucky to have them in my circle of support as well.  These things generally have a tendency of working themselves out anyway.

Forgiveness and Stuff

Last night, Toby asked to borrow a tie of mine to wear to a friend's wedding.  Him collecting it was the first time I'd seen him outside of class or off campus since my gay fast.  Two weeks with no contact, no texting, nothing, because I've been mad as hell at him and mad as hell about him.  He was so incredibly rude and predatory last time we hung out that every time I thought about him, I got nervous and panicky and angry.  And yet, I'd still get caught fantasizing about our kisses, about cuddling with him, about him falling asleep in my arms, and then I'd get angry at myself for still wanting that 25% of him that I was attracted to.

He called, asking to borrow the tie. I answered his phone call brusquely, responded to his request impatiently, and said that he could come pick up the tie, but I was going to bed so it better be soon.  He knocked on my door, I handed it off, asked when he'd be done with it, and said good night.
___________________________________

The day after his rude remarks and picture messages, he sent me a few e-mails and texts, apologizing for his hormonal, horny advances to me.  I wrote several replies, but could never send any of them.  I was blinded by rage, but I also know enough to not send e-mails or text messages while angry.  I knew that even though I was angry, he also knew as well and throwing it in his face would do nothing but make me angrier, longer.  So, after a few days, I simply replied, "I was mad as hell at you yesterday, and I was mad as hell at you this morning, but I'm going to let it go."

I told myself that I needed to cut him out of my life.  All the pity I had for him and his struggle, and the abuse he'd been subjected to as a child, all that had been thrown out the window.  It became easy for me to hate him, even under the pretense of forgiveness.  I resolved to not bring up how mad I was, but he was the enemy, the man who objectified me and counted me for nothing.  He was the guy who led me on, let me get emotional, and then left me wanting. I hated him for that.

Then, this morning, I was thinking about him again.  I thought about the conversation we had a few weeks before our falling-out.  We talked about our friendship, about how sorry he was for abusing me and taking me for granted, and about how bad he felt for bringing me down.  I too admitted that I had been a bad friend.  I told him, "I just want you to know that I love you.  You are a strong person and I love you and I'm rooting for your happiness."  I told him I meant it in a general, humanistic sense; I had a lot of brotherly love for him.  He acknowledged that and said, "GMP, I have no doubt in my mind that you love me.  You're a good friend and you've never let me forget how much you care."

So this morning, I was thinking about Toby and getting angrier and angrier.  And then I realized, anger and that love I said I had for him were mutually exclusive emotions.  I had to choose one and let the other go, and I decided to choose love, because I believe that no matter what happens, you can't undo the feelings you've had for someone.  No matter how awful he is (at least in the machinations of my brain), I love him and care so much about his happiness.

My hatred won't help him (or me) succeed, so I'm done being mad at him, done reacting coldly and cruelly, done being upset every time he walks in a room.  By no means am I ready to spend time with him again, but I'm at least going to start rooting for him.  Because I do love him.  I empathize so much with his struggles, both with homosexuality and with the abuse he felt as a child.  I have faith in him to do the right thing and I want to see him succeed by whatever yardstick he measures against.  I know he'll rise to the occasion and do what he needs to do to be happy and I can't wait to watch it happen.  But, I can't be the one to pull him up.  I'm not strong enough right now to be that person that will encourage him to be the best Toby he can be.

So, for now, I'll just be rooting from the sidelines and maybe someday, after we've both grown, we'll be able to be closer friends again.  Or maybe I'll just always be his anonymous fan.  Either way, I'm choosing love.

Outed!

Well, I should have known this would happen.  Last night, my friend Amber texted me, asking me to have dinner with her.  She's the same Amber from the blog I linked to a few weeks ago.  In that post, I tried to be as ambiguous as possible with personal details, knowing that she would maybe notice the referring URL and look at my post to see who was linking to her.  What I didn't realize was that she would also probably read the rest of my blog, which apparently is peppered with details about me that someone who knows me well might be able to infer.

In any case, she invited me to dinner with her.  I figured it would be me and her husband, as the three of us are good friends (not casual acquaintances as I said a few weeks ago), but when she told me that Lucas wouldn't be joining us, I got a little bit nervous.  I texted him, joking about how I was taking his wife on a date and he laughed it off, warning me that I best have her home by midnight since it was a school night.  Still, my mind was racing about what she could possibly want to say to me during dinner.  I thought that maybe she just wanted to catch up, two old friends.  I wondered if she was going to try to set me up with one of her single friends.  And I also thought that maybe she was going to ask if I was gay.

We got to the restaurant and got ourselves seated.  She wasn't wearing her ring, a peculiarity I pointed out with a mock suspicious eye.  She laughed and our hostess must have thought we were crazy!  A handsome single man with a pretty married woman who just "happened" to forget to wear her wedding ring!  Well, after we exchanged a little small talk and conversed about school, Lucas, church, her family, etc., she asked me, point blank, "Are you GMP?"

I knew she knew, but still, I said, "Am I what?" as if that would throw her off the scent a little.  She repeated her question with a casual eye that said, "C'mon, dude.  Give it up."  I smiled through the shock and said, "Yep.  I am."

She told me that she had no intention of ever finding out who GMP was.  She just said that as she read, she was hit with smatterings of the familiar.  Stories I shared that had details that she thought she recognized.  Little personal details (and one huge oversight on my part) that all added up to my identity.  She apologized profusely, but said that she wasn't sorry she found out who I am, because she felt like it would open an avenue of conversation that I'm missing where I currently live.  I began to question her about how she found out and what she meant by not being sorry and she started to tell me, but decided she should just let a letter she wrote do the talking.

She pulled three sheets of paper from her purse and handed them to me, saying that if she tried to tell me out loud she might start crying.  I began reading.

She started out by apologizing again for finding out.  She said she knew that the point of this blog wasn't to out me and that she felt bad that she knew, but also wanted to be a support to me now that she understood a little more about me.  She said she was grateful for her knowledge because it increased her faith that a person like me could still be so strong (not sure if I believe that).  She likened my struggle with homosexuality with Lucas' and her trial with losing their daughter Molly.  "It sounded like, in many of your posts, like you are awaiting the Second Coming with as much hope as I am," she said.  "For you it's probably for understanding, possibly relief, answers, and an ability to know how all this will bring you the joy the Lord has promised.  For me, it is the ability to be with my daughter again."  She then finished her letter by expressing that she and Lucas don't care that I happen to be gay; they still are my friends and this part of me doesn't affect that.  She invited me about a hundred times to come over for dinner sometime and said that their house is a great place to just hang out and be myself whenever I want, and then she closed her letter.

After I finished reading, we started talking about Molly and what a trial of faith it was for Amber and Lucas.  I asked her how she and Lucas kept from asking why it had to be that way, like I often do with regard to my homosexuality.  She told me simply that the Spirit when she held Molly was too strong for her to see Molly's short life as anything but a blessing.  She expressed that she was too grateful for the few hours that she had with Molly to be bitter about the hours that she may have lost in this life.  And she also said that having Molly for those few hours changed her perspective such that she knew that after Christ comes again she'd be able to raise Molly and be with her for eternity.  She said that she never makes a choice without first thinking of Molly and how that choice will affect her as an eternal mother.

Can you tell how floored I am by this girl's faith? I feel like I'm so far from being there with my own.  But that's what progress is, I guess.  Taking something you suck at and getting better.

After that, she posed a few questions to me.  I'll answer them here as well.

She asked me about Toby, not to learn his real identity, but just the nature of our relationship, etc.  I told her how we met through mutual friends and then became friends ourselves.  Then I told her about how we both told each other that we were gay; he was really upset one night and confided in me about his struggles.  I told him about me because I figured we could help each other up, before I realized that he had no intention of changing his actions, at least for the time being.  I told Amber about how I got attached to him through our conversations, and then our conversations turned into cuddle sessions, which culminated in one amazing makeout, which I'm slightly proud of because I initiated it.  I, the milquetoast and timid GMP, initiated a makeout.

To this day I have a hard time feeling sorry I kissed him. Even though it made me more attached to him and made him more aggressive and forward towards me, I did something I never thought I'd have the courage to do.  It felt really good to have a mutual and reciprocated attraction, even if it was mostly physical on his end.  But finally, I realized that he was never going to satisfy that emotional need I had and I started limiting my exposure to him.  She asked about our future; I told her that until he is ready to respect me and my feelings, I will never pursue anything "gay" with him, and conversely, until we're ready to repent and be better, I will never pursue a supportive friendship with him.  Our relationship was a one-way street and I don't care to relive that, even though sometimes I still feel pretty hung up on him.

She then asked a little bit about my future and what I saw for myself.  I told her that I hoped for one of a few things.  One, I hoped that eventually I'd have enough faith in Jesus Christ to live a purposeful and fulfilling life, even if I didn't have a wife or whatever.  Two, I hoped that something would hit me in the head and tell me that in spite of my testimony of the LDS church and Jesus' Gospel, the Church was wrong and I could feel comfortable living a gay lifestyle.  Three, I hoped that somehow homosexuality and the Church could find a reconciliation and I could live as an active, openly gay LDS man.  Obviously, those are wild and fantastic conjectures, and the latter two I'm positive will never happen.

She then told me something that kind of surprised me.  She said that someday, she hopes that I'll be able to be more open to people in the Church.  I know she wasn't talking about acting on my gay tendencies, but instead she was talking about how she hopes that latent homosexuality and same-gender attraction will someday cease to label people like me as sinners, as it sometimes happens now.  In her letter she wrote, "Today, as I walked around campus I imagined that people could be loving enough to know what you struggle with and not judge.  I wish you could be open and honest about it and people would understand that it is who you are but that doesn't make you any less righteous or Christ-like."  What a kind and probably-too-generous sentiment to make.  But it echoed my feelings well.

It's why I started this blog.  I didn't start writing for other gay people; I started writing because I felt like I should try and make people more aware that those of us who are Mormon and gay are just as capable of trying to live Christlike lives as anyone else.  My actions right now are far from Christlike, but I'm "try[ing] a little harder to be a little better," just like all of us.

Amber offered many, many words of encouragement to me, including these:  "I know that it is not a punishment.  It is the Lord's way of saying, 'I trust you.  You are strong.  Show me what you're made of.'"  I fully admit that I have a hard time believing that right now, but I also know that I want to believe. My faith in His plan is smaller than it should be, but I want it to grow and every day, in spite of my mistakes and setbacks, I try to make the choices that will help me become more Christlike.  One last thought:  Amber told me that the days I make mistakes do not negate the days I choose Christ over my physical desires.  Obviously, I can't enter into the kingdom of God being unclean, but even so, she said that Jesus counts the days I make good choices, too.  Again, I want to believe that, and I'm trying to live in such a way that someday, maybe I will believe that.

While I will now be going through my posts and editing out personal information, I'm glad she outed me a little bit.  It felt so good to be real with another person, a person I know won't judge me and a person who, unlike Toby, will try and bring me up.

Especially since, through the letter and the tears and the deep conversation and the missing wedding ring, people around us probably thought she was breaking off an affair, haha.

The Challenge

Toby and I are trying to rebuild our friendship.  We had something of a falling out recently and we've both decided to alter some of our bad habits and try to be better friends for each other.

So yesterday, we went and grabbed some lunch.  We were acting normal again, joking and making fun and just being normal.  He's got a mouth, which I can usually handle except for the F-Bomb.  I hate it; it's the one word I don't say often and never in public, so I told him that I'd stop chewing with my mouth open (one of his pet peeves) if he stopped saying the F-word.  He agreed and after a few minutes of contemplative silence, he told me that he'd stop fooling around with other guys if I went on a mission.

Jaw, meet floor.

An online friend of mine and I were talking about same-gender attraction and what it is about certain people that attracts us.  I brought it up because I've been wondering what I'd do if I found a man with my same goals, if I'd be able to resist the desire to be with that person.  One of the things we agreed on is that faithfulness is an attractive quality.  And here was Toby, telling me that we should move forward in the Gospel by repenting and following the commandments.  He was submitting himself a little bit to the recommendations I'd judgmentally made for his life.

And that, paradoxically, made him so much more attractive to me.  I've referenced my safety net before, where I tend to like straight, faithful Mormon guys, but I've never had the experience of liking a gay, faithful Mormon boy. And ironically, dating a gay Mormon guy would put both of us in a life contrary to the teachings of the Church.  It's a weird little cycle I find myself in.

Anyway, I'm trying really hard not to take his challenge to me at face value.  I think I want to serve a mission and when I do, it won't be to get Toby to stop sleeping with men; it'll be for myself.  And if he wants to stop fooling around, his motivation will need to come from somewhere else besides me.  My mission's value is not dependent on his obedience, nor is his faithfulness contingent on my honorable service.

Still, it was nice to hear that he had a little desire to change on some level.

Emotional vs. Sexual Attraction

Okay, so I've got this friend called Toby.  I've talked about him before a little.  He and I had a coming-out sesh together a few weeks ago and since then our friendship has been really weird.  For a few weeks, we held hands and cuddled together (thinking about his warm hands on my neck still makes me melt a little bit) and I had/have a crush on him for a bit.  My emotions tend to mirror my actions, so when I'm acting like someone who is emotionally attached, i.e., holding hands, cuddling, etc., I tend to get emotionally attached.  He acknowledged to me after a few weeks of our cuddling that he felt like he was leading me on and that he was attracted to me and thought I was cute, but wasn't interested in a relationship of any kind.

Then our friendship got even weirder, after a fight we had the night before Spring Break resulted in me feeling incredibly ambushed and violated (not by him so much as his friends and not sexually) and him feeling like I was judging him unfairly and hypocritically.  I see his point on that last part, but I'm not convinced he sees mine.  We talked before I left for home for the week and he apologized, as did I, and we decided to take the week off to see if we should be friends or what.  And then he went to Mexico and spent the week drunk on a beach, so I'm not convinced he did as much thinking as I did.

I kinda resent him for that a little bit.  I really want to know exactly WHY he's sorry for that night, as he said he was several times before I left on Spring Break, but he spent the week hammered and probably doesn't remember we even had a fight.

Regardless, my relationship with him has led me to a few conclusions.

One, I'm not looking for sex.  I don't want casual hookups or fooling around with men.  I am a sexual being and I'm sure I would love having sex from a purely physical-pleasure standpoint, but sex without love wouldn't be worth the sacrifices I'd have to make on the family, school, and church front.  At my core, I think (hope?) I'd be honest enough to withdraw from the BYU sisterhood of schools and accept disfellowship from the Church if I were sexually active with a man, and those consequences don't seem worth the pleasure that sex might bring.

Therefore, my relationship with Toby is going nowhere.  I know I'm strong enough in my testimony to keep him off me even if he ever became that predatory.  And while I know that holding hands and cuddling with men is a poor decision, I also know that with him, I can draw the line.  For heaven's sake, we've never even kissed.  His motivation is sexual and mine is emotional, and if he can't satisfy those emotional needs, he's not worth leaving the Church and foregoing some of the blessings that it brings.

The second conclusion is really more of a confusion.  I know I'm not looking for sex, but in my weak moments of fantasy, I see Toby and myself with a life together.  As I've said, I'm a little hung up on him right now and he gets to star in my dreams a little bit more than I like.  I see him and me living together in a committed and loving relationship and it scares me for how much I want that.  I'm giving up hope on his being a part of that life I want, but it gets me thinking about what if I find someone who has some of those same goals?  Someone who isn't interested just in sex but in commitment and love?  What then?

My therapist Max once told me that someday I would meet someone who reciprocated my attraction.  She said that not as a reassurance, but as a warning.  We had been talking about how even though same-gender attraction gets me down and used to charge my pornography consumption, it probably wouldn't ever lead to anything dicey because most of my crushes were straight males I knew and was friends with.  I knew that even if I was exceptionally weak and wanted to break some of the rules, I'd still have the safety net of the object of my affection not being attracted to me.

That's when she warned me that my lifeline wasn't enough, because someday I'd meet someone who liked me as much as I liked them and that then the decision would be mine and mine alone.  She said that I'd need to pick a side, because even though repentance is always an option, it's rarely an easy one, and I'd need to know fairly certainly what I'd be willing to give up to have either emotional fulfillment or faith in the truthfulness of the Church.  She said that I'd have to be sure that the Church was either true or incomplete for either life decision to make sense.

That's where I have trouble.  I'm nervous for what might happen when I meet that someone who has those same goals.  I've said that sex isn't enough to get me to leave the Church, but what about emotional intimacy and attraction?  Do I love the Church enough and have sufficient faith in its teachings to give up that higher relationship goal I have?

Thank goodness it's just a worry for now.  I'm glad I don't have to make that decision right away and I should probably stop concerning myself with it since it hasn't actually happened yet.  But, for the life of me, I have no idea how I'll react if it does.

How should I reconcile that desire for emotional satisfaction with my faith in God and His Gospel?

Old Journal Entry

This journal entry is from March 24, 2011.  I wrote these words after my school choir participated as the angelic choir in Savior of the World.  


In the way of backstory, my friend Toby had just come out to me a few days earlier, which inspired me to return the favor, I suppose.  Our relationship became very complicated after that, with him and I now battling constant temptation to yield to our attractions.  That complication continues to this day, which is why I felt like I needed to repost some of these old journal entries.
___________________________________________________

Additionally, tonight was rehearsal for Savior of the World. There are certain hymns (and I will call them that) that pierce my soul. The lines inviting Jesus to “come in glory to the earth” and “come to us to rule and reign” send shivers and chills down my body and the humble beseeching of Mary Magdalene and jubilant Alleluias of Mother Mary bring tears of humble joy to my eyes.

There is a line that Mary Magdalene sings of angels admonishing her to “Fear not, Christ is risen this day.” She continues by asking why she mourned after his death, knowing full well that his prophecy of his resurrection would come to pass. It got me thinking. After Jesus died, the earth went through literal hell. The Spirit of the Lord had withdrawn from the world and tumult shook the very foundations of the planet. His absence brought tears, loneliness, and death. And yet, for Mary Magdalene, that Sunday morning washed her fears and concerns away.

Each of us goes through our three days of hell eventually, and often at more than one time in our lives. But Mary Magdalene’s fears were alleviated when she heard her name followed by, “Fear not.”

Right now, I am going through my three days of hell. I am so tempted by Toby, and yet I feel such a love for the Savior. I feel intense loneliness and sorrow in the throes of my trial, and yet, I know that the Lord will bring me through it. I struggle daily with the wish to feel loved, but the Lord fills me with enough light to see through the shadows in my heart. My three days will be punctuated with the phrase, “Fear not, my beloved.”

Mommy Dearest

Tonight, my parents and some of our family friends and I went to see The Adjustment Bureau, which for a guy in my situation was a mistake.  A movie about true love rising above all odds and altering the plans that the almighty Chairman lays out has the capability to produce pretty revolutionary thoughts in a confused Mormon kid's head.  Luckily for me it wasn't a very good movie, so I can't take its message too seriously.

As we piled into the Suburban, we naturally started talking about the movie.  My parents were up front, their friends were in the middle seat, and their friends' daughter, Kay, who is a very good friend of mine, sat in the back seat with me.  Somehow, Kay's mother drew some kind of parallel between Matt Damon and Emily Blunt's characters with Bill and Hilary Clinton, which launched the car into a political division, in which I became a distinct minority of one.

The debate was what made Clinton a good president.  I brought up the work he did for Chinese-American relations, the economic boom the country experienced during his presidency, some of the good social programs he initiated, etc.  My mom, who is an outspoken and vibrant Clinton-basher, said that he was as despicable a president as John F. Kennedy.  We asked why she felt like Kennedy was such a terrible president, even amid the inspiring, ground-breaking, and positive contributions he'd made to the country and the world at large.  Her answer cut me as deep as I've ever been cut in my life.

"For me, I am incapable of looking past those kinds of unrighteous actions to see a person's good qualities."

I only recently told my mom that I'm gay.  She was a champion in that conversation, full of support and encouragement.  She spoke of her  faith that I could serve a mission and that I could do a lot of good in the Church.  She said that my problems with pornography and masturbation could become things of the past and I could have as much strength as I needed to overcome those challenges.  And she also said that she knows that the Lord works miracles every day and that someday, he might release me from this burden of same-gender attraction.

A few days ago I told her about the UP with whom I had dinner at the end of the semester.  I let her in regarding my feelings about Toby and how attracted I was to him.  I reassured her constantly that I'm still worthy and I'm still working towards serving a mission, but I wanted to let her know how hard it has been for me this semester.  I'm trying to let people into my world and I want her to feel like I'm making an effort to keep her in my circle of trust.

That effort seemed to be for nothing tonight.  I know my mom didn't mean that my unrighteous desires negate my positive attributes, but that's how it felt a little bit.  I'm sure she didn't even think of how what she said would affect me, but it doesn't change the fact that she said it.

I am a good person.  I care for other people, I donate lots and lots of time to my friends, I bear other people up, I pick up litter, I include others in my social groups and activities, and I'm honest in my dealings with others.  And yet, I feel like none of that would matter to my mom if I decided to go gay.

I wonder a little bit if she didn't say what she did to scare me "straight."  In my mind, maybe she wanted to send me a message that such deplorable behavior as homosexuality would doom me, no matter how honorable I was the rest of the time.  I mostly believe that it was just insensitivity and a poor brain-mouth filter that made her say what she said, but as Freud postulated, nothing we say is accidental.

I love my mom and I know that she loves me, but the way she acted tonight makes it obvious that she's a long way from really understanding the roads that some of God's children are called to walk. For now, faith in the Atonement will have to be all the support I should expect from her.

Straight Talk

Lately, I've been having lots of strange and random conversations about same-gender attraction with people who don't know that I'm gay and it's been interesting talking about it from the role of a straight man.  Tonight, Chris, a new friend of mine, and I were talking on Facebook about homosexuality a little bit.  He and I met when a mutual friend gave him my phone number since we were both 21 and hadn't served missions.  He wanted to know other people in his situation; he's had trouble with over-zealous and judgmental members of the Church being rude and accusatory towards him.  His willingness to be set up on a blind friend-date was kind of off-putting to me at first, but he's a good guy and I like talking to him.  We've only actually met once, but we get along well in person, too.  I'm not attracted to him at all, but I like him as a friend.

In any case, his gregariousness in being introduced to a total stranger had my gaydar blipping a little bit, but after tonight's conversation, it's pinging like I'm in West Hollywood.  We talked a lot about how difficult it must be for gay members of the Church.  Somehow we got on the subject of gay members at the school we attend.  He said that for the first time, he didn't know any people at the university who struggled with SGA.  He used to attend one of the other BYUs and he said he knew of a huge network of men there who struggled.  We got talking about the risks and merits of having such a system in life (speaking hypothetically, of course).

My point was that I, as a straight man, have a hard enough time keeping things appropriate with girls, where there is a physical outlet in the vein of kissing, hugging, and holding hands.  If, however, I were gay, there wouldn't be any socially acceptable activity to show my affections for men and that pent-up need, combined with the temptation, might be too much for me to handle if I knew of other men who were gay.

This of course was speaking from experience.  I have a friend named Toby and we mutually know the other is gay, and for us, it's very difficult to keep things appropriate.  We like holding hands when we drive in the car and we've gotten into a little trouble with cuddling together and random kisses on the cheek.  It's difficult to back down from those activities and keep them from going further than they already have.  Having a network wider than the one person I already know is gay would be torture for me.

Chris' point, I suspect also coming from experience, was that living a lie is exhausting (I agree) and that you need to have people that really understand you.  That's the alluring part about my relationship with Toby.  He gets me to a certain extent, and I really love that.  We don't see eye to eye on many things, including things of a religious nature, but neither of us are out in the public eye and both of us are struggling to reconcile a testimony with a tempting lifestyle choice.  Chris brought up a friend of his who decided that a life in the Gospel wasn't worth giving up who he really was and giving up his happiness in this life.  I have to say, I respect that viewpoint, but I think it comes from misinformation, or at the very least, a different perspective from mine.

My perspective is that while I am gay and I really want to be happy and fulfilled romantically in this life, I also have an equally persuasive side of me that tells me that a mission is the only way forward and building a relationship with Jesus Christ in His restored gospel is another vital key to happiness.  For me, the two parts of me are at odds with each other and I don't want to give either one up, even though I will have to eventually.

That's why Chris' friend's solution isn't an acceptable one for me.  I'm too rooted in the Gospel to believe that leaving it would make me happy; yet, I understand why his friend thinks that it would.  I'm similarly too rooted in my same-gender attractions to believe that fully giving them up would be a good choice for my earthly happiness.  As I said earlier today, I need to develop the eternal perspective to know that my joy in this life should come secondary to my happiness in the eternities.

Another topic Chris and I talked about was the lesson that gay people are supposed to learn from their trials.  I'm dying to know what this struggle of SGA is preparing them (us) for.  I'd love to get a glimpse of that knowledge, but as Chris said, "Someday, you'll get to find out why."  That someday isn't today and I shouldn't let that make me bitter.  Chris also mused on the judgment that gay people, both practicing and latent, will receive in the end.  My friend Toby has been abused and lived a gay lifestyle before joining the church, so I have to believe there will be a lot of lenience in his case, but for me, I don't know.  I've grown up in the Church and unless I'm repressing a memory, I never was called upon to bear the burden of sexual abuse.  How much tolerance can I expect?  Then again, the scriptures say that no matter who you are, you're never to be tested above your ability (1 Corinthians 10:13), so I suppose none of us can expect to see tolerance or a slap on the wrist when it comes down to judgment.

It was interesting seeing all of these things from the viewpoint of a straight guy (if Chris actually believes I'm straight).  And he's either as gay as a Maypole or the most understanding straight guy in the Church.  I hope it's the latter; I don't want him to have to walk such a complicated and confusing road.

Afterthought:  Even though it's strange and confusing, life is still good.  Today I went with a good friend from high school to dinner.  My friend looked amazing, it was a warm, sunny day, and we were driving in my mom's Mustang convertible, so how bad could life really be?  Beautiful girl, beautiful weather, beautiful car.  Good day in my book.