Undoubtedly there isn't a person alive who harbors more hatred to vacation than I do. I'm finished with my work. I get to go home, see my family, relax without a care... Except that there are cares and they revolve around my family. I am not myself at home, and I use that term loosely. Home that is. I have to be something else because what I am inside and out isn't quite welcome. Maybe it's only in my head. Maybe I imagine looks of grief and dismay when the perfect son doesn't turn out to be perfect in its accepted definition.
I gave up long ago the things that they value. I don't care about traditionality. I am not proper. I am not conservative. I do not believe that I should shun parts of what I am because others believe them to be wrong or incorrect or foolish. In many ways I am everything that they dislike. I am an atheist. I am gay. I am utterly liberal. I am brutally capable at defending myself in argument. And I do not respect them. They'll live with the atheism, it can be ignored. My family does a superb job at ignoring that which they don't like. They could even dismiss liberality if carefully worded. But bringing another man home to meet the family? I would be treated to a fight of Armageddon magnitude. But you know what, I'd still like to do it eventually. It's a price I'd pay gladly. I would lose my inheritance, which would do wonders for a teacher's salary. I would turn away and never look back. But most of all, I'd know I won. That they couldn't break me, that something good and pure came out of that accursed gene pool at least just once.
Theirs is a home of traditional values and of traditional solutions to traditional "problems". Theirs is a home of crippled emotion and scathing commentary. Going home is entering combat where every word is a bullet and every stare is a knife. And worst of all, on the surface remains the sugarcoat of love. Because we love you we want you to change. Because we love you, you must be wrong. Because we are looking out for your best interests you must obey. Love, just enough to keep you coming back. Just enough to make you feel bad about yourself. Just enough to make a good person love in return. But it is saccharin, a false sugar. Playing with your emotions it tears you between the person you are and the person that they want you to be.
Three and a half years ago I left that life behind, but every year I return and every year I must endure weeks and months of combat. Survival means the suppression of that which is different and strange to them. It hurts more and more every time -- fitting back into that mold as I have grown so much these few years. There I am alone because in the time I've taken to find myself, everyone I cared for have moved on. To grow into the person that I am becoming I grew away from them. Such is life. At any rate, they are reminders of the life I left behind.
So for me, the end of a semester always brings about a long dark shadow and what amounts to nothing less than a sickening, sulking sadness. It will assume control of my mind for most of January and not relent until I have returned back here again. I only fear that soon there will be no return and I don't know what I'm going to do with myself then. It's not that I fear losing what I am. That will not happen, I don't believe. But what will happen is unending misery, an everlasting searing burn that would continue to scar me deeper and deeper.
I need to create a life for myself and I will soon have to move on quickly. I don't know how to, but anyone who is understanding of my situation and anyone who values love and friendship, the full expression of oneself, and above all a tenet for which I hold much respect: be true to oneself and one another, then you are most welcome to walk with me. For the rest, I have said before and I will said it again: You are welcome to continue to live your life with liars and hatemongers, but you will see me no more.
Excuse me for my dreary rant, but its soothing.
Peace and FLYFREEFOREVER
I gave up long ago the things that they value. I don't care about traditionality. I am not proper. I am not conservative. I do not believe that I should shun parts of what I am because others believe them to be wrong or incorrect or foolish. In many ways I am everything that they dislike. I am an atheist. I am gay. I am utterly liberal. I am brutally capable at defending myself in argument. And I do not respect them. They'll live with the atheism, it can be ignored. My family does a superb job at ignoring that which they don't like. They could even dismiss liberality if carefully worded. But bringing another man home to meet the family? I would be treated to a fight of Armageddon magnitude. But you know what, I'd still like to do it eventually. It's a price I'd pay gladly. I would lose my inheritance, which would do wonders for a teacher's salary. I would turn away and never look back. But most of all, I'd know I won. That they couldn't break me, that something good and pure came out of that accursed gene pool at least just once.
Theirs is a home of traditional values and of traditional solutions to traditional "problems". Theirs is a home of crippled emotion and scathing commentary. Going home is entering combat where every word is a bullet and every stare is a knife. And worst of all, on the surface remains the sugarcoat of love. Because we love you we want you to change. Because we love you, you must be wrong. Because we are looking out for your best interests you must obey. Love, just enough to keep you coming back. Just enough to make you feel bad about yourself. Just enough to make a good person love in return. But it is saccharin, a false sugar. Playing with your emotions it tears you between the person you are and the person that they want you to be.
Three and a half years ago I left that life behind, but every year I return and every year I must endure weeks and months of combat. Survival means the suppression of that which is different and strange to them. It hurts more and more every time -- fitting back into that mold as I have grown so much these few years. There I am alone because in the time I've taken to find myself, everyone I cared for have moved on. To grow into the person that I am becoming I grew away from them. Such is life. At any rate, they are reminders of the life I left behind.
So for me, the end of a semester always brings about a long dark shadow and what amounts to nothing less than a sickening, sulking sadness. It will assume control of my mind for most of January and not relent until I have returned back here again. I only fear that soon there will be no return and I don't know what I'm going to do with myself then. It's not that I fear losing what I am. That will not happen, I don't believe. But what will happen is unending misery, an everlasting searing burn that would continue to scar me deeper and deeper.
I need to create a life for myself and I will soon have to move on quickly. I don't know how to, but anyone who is understanding of my situation and anyone who values love and friendship, the full expression of oneself, and above all a tenet for which I hold much respect: be true to oneself and one another, then you are most welcome to walk with me. For the rest, I have said before and I will said it again: You are welcome to continue to live your life with liars and hatemongers, but you will see me no more.
Excuse me for my dreary rant, but its soothing.
Peace and FLYFREEFOREVER
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