A Tale of Two Stories

Because everyone loves labels…

Story One:

As you all know (I’m assuming; I know it, so everyone else must as well, I’m pretty sure that’s how that works), I was telephoning my best mate this past Saturday—because she’s too pig-headed to switch to Verizon like any sane person would in this situation—and we had a very fortuitous conversation. At first it was just the usual, talking about baking blenders and refrigerators from scratch (although she allowed me the use of buttons and leftover string as well) and how crazy-amazing infinity is (answer: it is crazy freaking amazing and that’s a fact). But then she told me that her sister and I are basically soul-mates. My word was “analogous” but I’m a nerd, obviously, so whatever. Anyway. This sister was born when her mom was 24. And so was I! Well, when my mom was 24, not when hers was. Otherwise we’d be the same age, which we aren’t, at least not last time I checked. Maybe I should look again though, just to be sure. (Also, point of interest, my girl’s sister has the same mom as my girl! Weird, right?) Anyway, so now that I know that, employing the infamous colon-analogy device with respect to respective ages at birth (both myself and this other person being zero days of age at the time of delivery), this is what I get: (and that colon doesn’t count so just ignore it if it’s confusing to the analogy) Big Sister : her mom :: I : my mom. Yes. I think I need to find this kid-adult-person and become best friends with her. I mean duh, look at all we have in common!

Story Two:

Once upon a time there was a brave (and exceedingly modest) knight called Bailey. Bailey had this sweet job wherein everyone joined forces to slay unsuspecting offenders, leaving nothing but pulp. Naturally, this unification in purpose laid the foundation for some pretty solid friendships; like if this were X-Men we would be the Brotherhood. Or that other group that is the opposite of them. Hm. What are those people called…? Or if we were so privileged to be in the best realm of existence ever we’d be part of the Alliance, or on Mal’s crew. Or if we were superheroes we’d all together be Mr. Incredible (because he works alone…or maybe that isn’t actually the best analogy to use…). Anyway. Bailey was particularly friends with this one friend-in-arms, whose name we shall call Brutus. After that dog-fury. Or after Julius Ceasar’s mate. Or maybe it’s not symbolic of anything; the world may never know. Even though Brutus is a girl, but whatever; I do what I want. So Bailey and Brutus were buds and hung out some outside of pulverizing things, and then one day Bailey was simultaneously both forcibly promoted and banished. But it didn’t make a difference, except that somewhere also around that time a spy-informer leaked speculative intelligence against Bailey to Brutus, which didn’t matter at the time because Brutus is awesome and didn’t hold it against Bailey, but later it came back to bite like the dickens. So moving one. Bailey and Brutus don’t dwell in the same plane of existence for the time being, so they don’t see each other. Bailey keeps trying to keep in touch but Brutus refuses to acknowledge Bailey’s existence. Bailey understands that Brutus has her reasons and isn’t trying to be mean, but Bailey still isn’t a fan of the silent treatment. Not that Bailey has feelings anyway, but if she did she’d have them about this.

Bonus funny quote, courtesy of aforementioned beautiful girl:

In the context of me reminding her not to speculate about my brother because people who are not gay tend to not appreciate being thought gay, she said: “Weird. That’s like saying ugly people don’t like being thought beautiful. Learn to take a compliment, people!”

MJ's Gay Agenda for 2012

I'm currently on vacation with my family in San Francisco (ironic, I know) so my access to a computer is limited to just my phone.

So, to be true to my commitment to post every Monday, I am going to just write a list of things to accomplish by year's end (written in no particular order). This is, in short order, my Gay Agenda through the end of the year.

- Finish my master's coursework and do all preliminary prep work for my thesis

- Finish the first draft of my book

- Read at least one classic French novel

- Lose an additional 25 lbs

- See the Book of Mormon Musical in Chicago

- Travel to Boston

- Visit King's Island

- Tour Indianapolis

- Explore Kentucky

- Shoot a digital photo book of my new home city (Cincinnati)

- Save money every month

- Find ways to cut back and simplify my life (and document my journey)

- Learn three classical piano pieces

- Learn basic guitar strums and chords

- Rediscover my artistic talents (drawing, sketching, pastels, charcoal, etc.)

- Create a rainbow afghan out of my missionary ties

- Complete my training and start volunteering for the Trevor Project

- Get tested for all STDs

- Find ways to love myself and search to find my center and true self

We’re Just Friends

“I care about you for no good reason.”

-R

Sometimes you just meet someone and you click. Sometimes you just become insta-friends. And sometimes you can look back and pin-point the moment when you both realized that you cared for each other. My friend R and I did that last night.

Here’s the thing. I had a crush on her. Before we ever became close friends I knew I liked her. Then one night I was sitting with Lee and he mentioned his blog post and she just piped up “I read the blog.” I’m not going to lie, I was shocked and scared. I didn’t know she knew I was gay. But she did. And was still sitting next to me on the couch.

That night we talked for hours and when she told me she wasn’t gay I let my crush go. Sure I was a little disappointed but it was worth it because I made a great friend.

Over the last couple of weeks we’ve been hanging out an awful lot.

But that one moment when you realize you care for them.

Hers for me was a few days ago. I was sick and accidentally fell asleep and was late for my shift. The shift coordinator knew we were close and asked if she had seen me and told her that I was missing. Her mind kind of freaked out and thought I went and off-ed myself. I didn’t. I was just asleep. But she was still worried and pissed when the coordinator didn’t tell her I finally showed up. When I got the chance I went and talked to her to let her know what was going on and then went home sick.

Mine for her was last night. I had spent time with two of my older friends and well it just felt wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I still love them. But I’ve changed and there was a certain piece of negativity to them that made me feel off. And they just didn’t seem to understand me anymore. So she sat down on the other side of E and we were all just talking. As soon as she showed up I was simply happy. I knew that as soon as E would leave I would scoot over to sit closer to her. However when he got up she beat me to the punch and sat right next to me. I leaned over and told her “This may not make sense and seem kind of random but you bring good into my life.”  

I guess it was just nice. After that I admitted that I had liked her. And apologized that people may suck and assume that we were together. Sure she isn’t ecstatic about that but she doesn’t mind.

Sometimes you just find someone and it works. With all the crap going on up here with everyone hating on LGBT’s (maybe I’ll rant about that next week but in case you have no idea what is going on check out Lee’s post) and me being terrified of being out, it’s just nice to find someone who doesn’t mind. Who still loves me even though that may bring assumptions on to her. Who seems to care about me for no good reason. It’s just nice to find a friend like R. 

-Dupree

You want to know something odd? I don't have a song for R. Generally I have a song for everyone but I don't have a song that just screams R. One of these days I'll find the perfect song. But for now let's just go for this. 

"You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound"

Emotional Health Day

Yes, that's really me.

Today I am giving myself an emotional health day.

Why?

For a couple of reasons.  One, because work is driving me crazy lately.  Every time I am there I feel the life getting sucked out of me.

But the biggest reason is because I matter.
I matter to me.

The fact that I'm going crazy at work probably has less to do with the fact that my job sucks and more to do with the fact that I haven't been giving myself what I need lately.  I need some me time.  I need to feed my soul and refresh my spirit.

So I am going to the mountains.
That, for me, is more healing than anything else I've yet discovered.
The mountain air.
The trees.
The rocks.
The stillness.
Yes.  That is what I need.

And then perhaps some time with a book, and some snuggling with my love.

What is it that feeds your soul?

Looking Forward...

Take a look behind you. I don’t know what may be behind you, but behind me are decorations for Christmas! Or, more specifically, Christmas in July! I have been looking forward to this all summer and now that it is here, I’m ecstatic. Wednesday is when the gift exchange occurs and I went shopping Monday to find a gift. Dollar store shopping found some cute stuffed animals, one of which is the CUTEST skunk, which I am in love with. So glad to be giving that to someone!

Anyways, this event has been something I’ve been looking forward to for some time. And then Saturday, the first official day of Christmas in July, comes around and one of my co-workers uses the decorating ceremony to rant about how gay people should be segregated on Facebook. Did I let it spoil my mood? Yes. Yes I did.

What an idiot I am.

I’ve been looking forward to Christmas for months, and I let one jerk get in my way. I showed these posts, and my ensuing counter posts, to a couple friends. They were of course upset, but what did they do? Talk about how much they wanted to enjoy Christmas in July. They were not indifferent, they just didn’t let it drag them down. So, I have dedicated this post to saying what I look forward to.

So, this is a list of what I look forward to and why I look forward to it.

Friday because it’s cleaning day and I actually enjoy being able to work with headphones in and it’s a nice break from working with kids.

Saturday because I get to see friends from Aspen Grove who I don’t normally get to hang out with.

Tuesday because I love Bailey’s posts. I’m ALWAYS on the ground laughing.

Wednesday because I get to see Jay (the name I have given my boyfriend so I can about him in BYU audiences). Also, I get to see the newest episode of The Glee Project. Which I love, mainly because I love most of the kids on the show.

This upcoming Friday because I can’t wait to get to dye my hair again (not permanent, so I can do it on a more frequent basis).

August twenty sixth because school starts along with my intermediate racquetball class, which WILL be a blast.

The day I get to see my best friend again. I miss her enough that despite my frugal college budget, I have considered buying a plane ticket to visit her in Berkeley. Will I visit her anytime soon? No, but it’s important enough to list.

In Which I Rebel

I’m tired of this. I don’t want to not be who I am, but I want it to not be such a bleeding huge deal. Bottom line, it’s nobody else’s business. Not that there aren’t people that I feel like I definitely need to tell. But then the stubbornness flares up and my rationalization is, Why should I even make a point of saying anything? That’s basically tantamount to admitting that I think it’s weird and wrong and something to be uncomfortable with or ashamed of. So then I don’t say anything, because that ought to teach ‘em. Or something; it’s still unclear whom exactly is on the receiving end of this sticking-to. Although, don’t get me wrong, there is still very much also the element of terror and being unable to open my mouth. So there’s that. Stagnation, folks, where I’m supposed to have wrought progress.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

The Failing Scouts of America

From the age of eight, until I was 18, I was intensely involved with the Boy Scouts of America. I faithfully committed to memory (and action) the Boy Scout Oath, Law, and Motto. For your reference, all three are listed below.

 

Scout Oath:

On my honor, I will do my best, to do my duty to God and my Country; to obey the scout law, to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.

Scout Law:

A Scout is: honest; trustworthy; loyal; helpful; friendly; courteous; kind; obedient; cheerful; thrifty; brave; clean; and reverent.

Scout Motto:

Be Prepared

As a young man (and still today), I truly made every effort to do my best to God and Country.  I challenged myself physically and mentally and made every effort to be as moral as possible.  Similarly, I attempted to be prepared for anyone and anything.

While I internalized the Scout Oath and Motto, I loved the Scout Law and it was my guiding force as a teenager.  Honestly, I couldn’t imagine a better list of attributes for a person to cultivate.  I thought the list was perfect and I strove to live each adjective with gusto.

As I grew through the scouting program, I earned a lot of awards.  In fact, I am a tripled palmed Eagle Scout.  What does that mean? It means I was the nerd in your Boy Scout troop who literally ran from Merit Badge counselor to Merit Badge counselor at Scout Camp.  I was the young man who spent much of his summer breaks attending Scouting conventions and, without fail, I was the boy who spent every Tuesday evening at Scouts, never missing an activity or a camp out or a service project.

I received every award a Cub Scout could earn.

When I made it into the Boy Scouts at age 12, I made a similar goal.  I earned my Eagle Scout when I was 13 years old and, by my 18^th birthday, I had garnered more than half of the 124 Merit Badges and was inducted into the Order of the Arrow.

Now, nearly 10 years later, as an alumnus of the organization that I loved, I am told that I am not welcome among them.  That I am not worthy of the awards I so dedicatedly pursued and that, in the future, if I have a son, I would not be welcome among his Scout Troop.

Some anonymous panel of 11 men (and maybe women) has decided that there is no place for gay men or boys in the BSA; that the “greater good and protection” of the boys and the organization is more important than building a community and culture of inclusion.

I am getting really sick and tired of hearing the same offensive trash over and over again.  I hate religious propaganda that claims that all gay men are pedophiles and that all gay youth are predators.  It is so offensive and hateful and it literally sickens me to my core.

The Scouting Program has failed me and America.  I do not agree with the organization’s decision to ban gay leaders but I am appalled that they are condemning and casting out their gay scouts. As a teenage suicide survivor, I can promise you that the Boy Scouts of America’s actions this week will do far more damage than any supposed good.

In an organization that claims loyalty, friendliness, helpfulness, courtesy, kindness, etc., I am shocked by the group’s blatant disregard for a substantial portion of their membership.  Furthermore, I am of the belief that they have failed their commitment to young men and that, apparently, they have lost their moral regard for what it means to be a Scout who follows the Oath, Law, and Motto.

I hope that the pretentious, ignorant council members who are hiding behind their shield of anonymity are ashamed of themselves. 

I, on the other hand, am putting my name behind my belief and I encourage Scouts everywhere to stand up and speak out.

Rings

I need to figure out a way to be more on time with my posts. I'll put that on my to-do list.
For now, here are the pictures of our rings.
Jo doesn't like the ring on the finger kind of pictures so we tried to take some good up close ones of just the rings.

Here's mine:

can you see the colors? One stone is emerald and the other is blue sapphire. 

Don't you love the woodgrain texture?

This is Jo's ring: 

It's made from the imprint of a real leaf. She can tell you exactly what kind of leaf. I don't remember. But it's really pretty. 

Now here they are together (because that's what really matters, right? That we're together. :)

Both are inscribed with the phase "being here is so much"

Dupreelings

Father

So I have a father. Sometimes I forget that I have a father. I mean he’s never around. He never was around. And the last thing he said to me was that he wanted to be a part of my life and that he loved me. This was right after he found out that I was suicidal and then he started to read the blog posts. He hasn’t said anything to me since. I let him know I would be in Oregon and that I could see him. Nothing. It’s been months.

So I call my mom today and guess what he’s doing; he is getting married. This man has been married three times already! He already has four children that he doesn’t give a fuck about so why is going and grabbing more people to love. He’ll just leave them!

Anyway that was a rant… sorry guys. He sucks.

But the point is he can ‘love’ people and then leave them the next day. He doesn’t get attached people. Even his children and wives.

That is the worst thing he has passed on to me. Like I was told once, I’m a duck. I let all the bad stuff just roll right off like me like water but I can’t hold on to the good stuff. I can’t hold on to love. I just let it go.

Mother

So I have a mother. I adore my mother. I wish she would realize that more. I don’t know what I would do without her. But she wasn’t always there. I’ve lived with her a handful of years and we weren’t close at all until I came to college.

But my mother had me when I was twenty. And her mother had her when she was twenty. And her mother had her when she twenty. You get the point. Can anyone guess my age? Yep I am twenty.

So I should be having little Dupreelings right? Wrong.

I don’t want children right now. I don’t know if I want children ever. Sometimes I see an adorable baby and I’m like I WANT!!! And then some baby screams and I’m like Uhhh no.

But I think the main reason I don’t want children is because I don’t want to be like my parents. I love my mother and not having a father doesn’t bother me. But I wouldn’t want to bring a child into the world if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that I would always stay with them. If my parents could so easily leave me then what is to say that I wouldn’t leave me child? And I was planned. My parents wanted and tried for me. Just to leave.

So this is how it is. I want children but I’m also scared of them. Scared that I would screw them up. Scared that I would leave them. Scared that I wouldn’t love them enough. Just scared.

Wonderful- Everclear

"Promises mean everything

 When you're little and the world's so big

 I just don't understand how 
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
And tell me everything is wonderful now"

With Arms Wide Open- Creed


"If I had just one wish

Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open..."

Look for Love

"We don't see things they way they are, we see things the way we are."

-Talmud

I was reminded this week that I can expect great things from life.
I can expect love.
I can expect support.
I can expect respect.

When I first wrote my blog post last week about my ring exchange with Tiffany I didn't post it on my facebook page for a few reasons:

1. I like to try and maintain some semblance of privacy in my personal life.
2. I wasn't sure it would be accepted well.  I post a lot of gay related stuff, my blog posts included, and rarely get interaction from anyone I am friends with.  This ring exchange is something I am excited about and I didn't want to "cast my pearls before swine."  It has felt like a lot of my friends choose to ignore the fact that I'm gay and therefore don't comment or acknowledge it at all.
3. I was lazy.

However, after Tif posted her side of the story, I got a few requests for my side, so I posted the link, not really expecting much of a response from anyone.  But I was happily surprised.  As of this morning I have had 19 "likes", 13 comments, and 5 private messages (not to mention multiple phone calls), all from people who are so excited for me and want to send their love and congratulations.  I have been overwhelmed with the amount of love that has been sent my way this week.

This was a good lesson for me.  A good reminder that the world is FULL of people who want to love.  There are people everywhere who support me and who want to share in my excitement about life.  

Sometimes I find myself expecting that I'll be met with rejection or disapproval, that the reason people don't comment on my posts is because they don't agree or support what I do.  And maybe that's true in part, but I also believe that you can always find what you are looking for.  If you are looking for proof that people hate gays you can find it.  Easy.  But it is just as easy to find hoards of people who love and support and accept.

You'll find what you're looking for (except maybe your keys).  Our eyes become more opened to whatever it is we have our minds on.  So perhaps if we are a little bit more conscious about our thoughts, we can begin to see more of the happy things in the world.

Look for love.

Me And My Subconscious

I work with kids. Thus, I put on a bunch of different faces. The first face is me, my normal everyday face. All happy, energetic and smiling so my kids have fun.

Okay, that's a lie. I start out happy. But after six hours with my kids and knowing there is another hour and half, I putter down and die. So, in the matter of day, I easily go from energetic to nostalgic. Not the same person at all.

But that's assuming I'm not tired. If I'm even a tad tired, I can't summon much energy at all. Maybe I should become a caffeine addict...

So, in the course of a day, I'm have two faces. But what about when I dress up for my kids? One day, I dress up as an Indian chief named Chief Blond Eagle. Another day I dress up as a pirate captain so we can go on a treasure hunt. I'm no actor, but even I seem to be a different person to myself when I dress up. I'm more ridiculous. I'm more energetic (as though dressing up gives me a an energy boast). In the end, my regular personality is just gone.

These are just pretend faces though. What about in real life? Around my friends, I'm more sarcastic (borderline jerk). Around my family, I'm full of niceties and the likes. Around my best friends I seem to always have energy no matter the sleep level. I'm always different and it makes me wonder how different people I interact with are...

And not to mention my subconscious. I swear, with some of those dreams my subconscious comes up with, I can't even think for a minute that my subconscious has any hint of my personality.

This is Why I’m not British

Although it breaks my heart. My goal in life is to grow up and be Hugh Laurie with his legit accent that he can turn on and off at will. And when I say his legit accent I’m referring to his American accent, so there’s a topsy-turvification of perspective for you. But we’re not here to talk about Hugh Laurie, stubbly though his face is; we’re here to talk about Harry Potter. Naturally.

We now interrupt these messages to present this disclaimer: I’m not a hard-core die-hard otherwise-hyphen-crazed Harry Potter fan. Actually I don’t much care for Harry at all; Neville is the bomb though. But the books are good, and that’s what I happen to be reading right now, so there. Relevancy managed.

Moving on. HP 6 is all about the snogging. Plus is has the greatest stand-alone quotes of the whole series I’ve come across so far, save for one of my favorites in number 5. Mostly due to Dumbledore, but that’s probably because he’s gay. Or maybe not. Actually, his coolness likely occurs independent of his gayness. But that’s not been substantiated. Anyway. Snogging. HP 6 is all about the snogging. Ron and what’s-her-face, especially. The point is, as I was reading that, I wanted no part of it. I don’t like the idea of this crude, carnally-based “snogging”; it seems so…I dunno, impersonal and mechanical, basically meaningless. It doesn’t take into consideration the other person and what they mean and all that stuff. I much prefer the notion of kissing.

And while we’re on the topic of books I’m reading/ have read/ pretend or claim to have read in order to appear smart/ fabricated entirely, let’s talk about Shades of Grey, grey being the British spelling to the inferior gray of those weird American people seeing as Mr. Fforde who is the author is from the United Kingdom which I’m pretty sure is what you get when you transplant British citizens into the video game Kingdom Hearts. Don’t confuse this book with that other one that’s the one I’m not talking about, because I’m not talking about that one. Actually, I’m not talking about this one either, but I like the title so I figure I’d work it in since it fits like those puzzle pieces that you just keep jamming together until they lie flat so seamlessly together.

So shades of grey. The older and wiser I get—one year at a time, year after year—the more I figure out that nothing is just as black and white as it seems at first glance. Except black and white photos after you’ve horked the contrast until there are only two colors left (black and white, in case you didn’t pick up on that). And panda bears, but only if they’re really clean; otherwise they have brown dirt, or I guess if they’d been fighting they might have red blood on them. But that’s about it, I can’t think of anything else that’s just straight-up black and white. And by I can’t think of anything else, I mean there is nothing else. Because if there was I would have thought of it.

Anyway, this is stemming from a conversation I’ve had a couple times with my mom about my sister dating. She’s not quite sixteen and being the happy Mormon family that we are, that means no dating yet. But she’s got friends that are boys. So the solution that my mom—and the other parents in the stake—have come up with is that their kids can hang out in groups and such as long as there’s a mismatched number of guys to girls, with all kinds of more detailed stipulations for specific scenarios. So I’m not doing a very good job of conveying this, but we keep having long off-shooting debates about the rules they’ve set and why the kids should stick to them and why we’re supposed to follow what the prophet says even if it is arbitrary. The main point I’m drawing from all of it though is that even something as seemingly clear-cut as Don’t date until you’re sixteen actually is not as clear-cut as it seems. My solution? Be gay. Duh.

P.S. I've set today as the deadline for telling my mom, because if I don't have a deadline it'll never happen. So hopefully that's what I'm doing right now.

So Much Love to Give

I’m moving a couple thousand miles away in a couple of weeks and if you’d asked me how I felt about it last month, I would have told you I’m frigging ecstatic.

If you ask me today, however, I’m less excited. In fact, I’m second guessing my decision to go and I’m a little disappointed.

Don’t get me wrong, I still am ready to leave Utah (it will always be home but I am truly sick of it right now).  I also think my new home, Cincinnati, is a beautiful city and I know there is a lot more professional opportunities back east than there are here, but I’m sad.

Why you may ask? Because I’ve started seeing someone and I like him – a lot. 

I haven’t dated anyone, male or female, consistently for over a year.  Because it’s been such a long period of time in between relationships, I forgot how wonderful it feels to care about someone and realize that they feel the same way about you, too.

I forgot how beautiful it feels to share your deepest thoughts, fears, and emotions with someone; to connect on a level that you really can’t reach when you’re ‘just friends’ or interacting with family members.

Similarly, experiencing sensual, intimate moments with someone who you care about and are attracted to can be euphoric.

As I’ve mulled over the last few months of exchanges with this guy, I am beginning to realize how far away from my former faith and church I’ve come. In previous experiences and romantic interactions with men, I have felt overwhelmed with guilt and fear and dread.  Now, however, I feel peace, tranquility, and even love.

Perhaps my change in feelings can be attributed to this guy. I mean, I have to say I think he’s pretty wonderful. But, honestly, I am more inclined to believe that I am finally starting to discover my own divine worth; that I am who I am and that is okay – regardless of what family members or neighbors or anyone else may say or think. I am finally to a point where I believe I’m a good human being who deserves to love and be loved.

As I think back on my years of commitment to celibacy and “Christian service” (rather than coming in and out as gay), I am saddened.  I have so much love to give and I cannot fathom (anymore) the idea of not sharing my love with someone. I am still trying to figure out where I stand with God but, from what I do still believe, I do not think that He wants or expects me to hide my love – or anyone’s love for that matter.

If He exists, He IS love, right? At least that’s what we’re taught. So that is how I am going to govern my life and my relationships.

Now, is my new ‘beau’ my future husband? I don’t know. I do know, though, that I am in the right place at the right time and when I move next month, I will address the changes and challenges as they happen.

Until then, though, I am going to enjoy some wonderful company and a blossoming friendship and relationship. Any time's a good time to love, right?

Second First Kiss

Jo told you about our road trip to the redwoods. What she didn't tell you is that the night before we left on our road trip I told her via text message (because I'm a wimp) that I liked her. She said that she thought I was the greatest thing ever and I fell asleep smiling. 

By the time we got to the Redwoods I was completely, madly in love with her. 

There were two problems. 

1. BYU

2. Even though Jo said I was the greatest thing ever (which should have been enough, but wasn't) she never said she liked me back. 

Once we got to Stout Grove I was so conflicted and frustrated by everything. Here I had the most beautiful girl in one of the most beautiful places on earth and I felt like I couldn't be happy. I felt like all my commitments to BYU and the honor code were keeping me from loving the one person I could laugh with. The one person I could just talk to about anything. The one person I could sit with in silence without any awkwardness. I felt like I couldn't love the one person I loved the most. As we walked through Stout Grove I was very quiet and distant because I wanted to stick it out and finish my last semester at BYU and follow all the rules and keep all my promises. But I wanted so much just to take her hand and never let go. 

At some point during our meanderings in the grove, Jo walked ahead along the path and I stayed behind. After a while I made my way slowly up the trail until I met Jo on a bridge as she was coming back. We stood there a few moments. I may have asked her where she went. She probably told me she just walked far enough down the trail until she could see the river. We stood there a little longer. Me being quiet and awkward. Her, being beautiful and basically irresistible. That moment all I wanted to do was kiss her. 

There we were in the middle of this gorgeous grove of giant trees on a bridge over stream. It would have been such an epic kiss. So romantic. So perfect. So absolutely memorable. 

I didn't kiss her then. 

I kept all my little desires pent up until a day or two later when we were somewhere in the middle of Nevada on our way home and I slid my hand up to hers and held it till our palms were sticky and sweaty. 

A couple months after that (it was in October) I finally decided that waiting wasn't worth it anymore. BYU wasn't worth it enough to not kiss the girl of my dreams. It wasn't on a bridge in the redwoods. It was in her apartment in the dark and it was a fail. I kissed her. She didn't kiss me back. 

I know she didn't kiss me because we had both agreed that we wouldn't kiss until I was done with BYU. She was willing to wait. 

I never forgot about that time on the bridge when I could have kissed her and it would have been perfect. 

Last weekend Jo and I had our second first kiss on a bridge over a stream in the Redwoods. And we exchanged rings inscribed with "being here is so much" because it really is. Being here is so much and everything seems to need us in this fleeting world. Us, the most fleeting. The first time we went to the Redwoods, I made Jo read that poem as we sat on the biggest log I've ever sat on. Those trees are sacred. They know what it means to love. And now, thanks to them, so do I. 

~live your own truth~

A Man Of Little Words

So it’s raining. Pouring. A beautiful mountain storm. I’m walking to the dining hall to grab some dinner and I notice my crush walking toward me.

Him: “It’s raining”

Me: “Yea I noticed.”

And then we kept walking our separate ways. To me, that is okay. I didn’t need to have a two hour conversation about the weather with him to for him to know that I like him.

He knows because of the way I smile whenever he is near.

Or how I suddenly get quiet when he is around.

But what I like about him is how he doesn’t waste words. Everyone thinks he is really quiet but then he’ll just the say the most interesting things. And he’s snarky to boot.

We went on a date Thursday and it was awesome. No we didn’t talk much and whenever we did it seemed forced (mostly on my part because I have no idea how to have a conversation). But what I really enjoyed was the silence. How I could just look at him and smile and that was enough.

But this post isn’t about him. It’s about me being tired of talking. It’s not so much that I want to be alone again; I’m just enjoying the silence so much more. And I know this blog is about breaking the silence but I want to go back to a place where I can revel in the silence.

Looking back I see all the posts about how I didn’t want to be alone. I appreciate the growth that I’ve had and am now able to enjoy my alone time. And also enjoy the time I spend with all my new friends.

Well I love you guys but I don’t have much to say today. The point is; life is amazing. Even when it’s pouring rain it’s so beautiful. 

BTW: Happy Friday the 13th! Hope you all survive!

Being Here Is So Much

This past weekend Tiffany and I exchanged rings
On a bridge
In the redwoods.

I know.
It's pretty romantic.

But let me give you a little background story so that you can appreciate it even more.

In August of last year, Tiffany and I left for a 10 day road trip through California.  We hadn't known each other super long at that point, but we were already good friends.  She was easy to be around; easy to talk to.  I liked that I had found someone who played the way I did, someone that I could be excited about life with.

We spent 4 days meandering our way up through beautiful forests, around breathtaking lakes, and through little towns.  On the 5th day we made it to the coast.  And the trees.

Any of you who know me well know that I love trees.  But love seems too small a word.  I feel connected to trees.  Nothing is more spiritual, in my mind, than a tree.  A tree understands the seasons.  It sees the changes in the weather, in humanity, in the landscape, and in itself, all while remaining steadily grounded.  But there was a depth in those redwoods that I had never felt before, those giants who had been around for thousands of years.  There is a sacredness in those woods for which there are no words.

The next 3 days of that trip were full of so much beauty, inside and out.  I was being torn open by those trees, expanding and widening my sense of self.  And experiencing that with Tiffany only intensified the beauty.

On our last day in the redwoods we visited Stout Grove, a section of forest filled with the most beautiful trees I had ever seen.  It was there, in that grove, that I opened myself to love.  While walking alone among those silent giants, I felt them whispering that it was okay.  It was okay to open myself to another person, to let her into my heart.  I had spent the last 2 years on an intense journey of self-discovery, learning to see both the world and myself in new ways, but now the trees were telling me it was okay to let someone else come along for the ride.  It was in that grove that I realized I had been falling in love with her, and falling hard.  That is where everything shifted for me.

Last week, one year after that trip, we returned to Stout Grove and exchanged rings there on a special bridge (I'm sure Tif will tell you more about that).  It has been one hell of a year, full of lots of learning, lots of fun, and lots of love.  Adding another person to your story pushes your own self-discovery to a whole new level.  In the past year I have felt every possible emotion and have discovered things about myself, and about her, that are both beautiful and scary.  The unknown is always a little scary.  But it has been a breathtaking journey that I wouldn't trade for anything.

I have more to say about rings and what I like (and don't like) about them, but I think I'll save that for another post.

My ring has the imprint of a leaf on it, to remind me that seasons change, and I will too, but that if I am rooted in love, anything is possible, including falling in love with the most beautiful soul on earth.  Inside the ring are inscribed the words "being here is so much," which is a quote from my favorite poem, The Ninth Elegy by Rainer Maria Rilke (you can read the whole thing here).


"...being here is so much, and everything
seems to need us in this fleeting world, and 
strangely speaks to us.  Us, the most fleeting. Once
for everything, only once.  Once and no more.  And we, too,
only once.  Never again.  But to have been here,
this once, if only this once:
to have been of the earth seems irrevocable."

Musicals...

The other day, I caught myself singing a song to the kids I work with. It went a little like this:

Some Women Are Dripping With Diamonds

Some Women Are Dripping With Pearls

Lucky Me, Look At Me

Look At What I’m Dripping With

Little Girls

Was I singing that because of my kids? No. It just got me laughing. Musical anyone?

Recently saw the musical Rent. As in the video version. Didn’t love the beginning, but in the end, I LOVED the musical. Especially La Vie Boheme and Take Me Or Leave Me:

A Tiger In A Cage

Can Never See The Sun

This Diva Needs Her Stage

Baby Let’s Have Fun

You Are The One I Choose

Folks Would Kill To Fill Your Shoes

You Love The Lime Light, And Now Baby

Take Me For What I Am

Who I Was Meant To Be

And If You Give A Damn

Take Me Baby, Or Leave Me

Of course, if we are talking about all time best musicals though, I have to throw in Into The Woods. I actually own this one and have seen it several times. Love it!

The Woods Are Just Trees

The Trees Are Just Wood

Yeah, sad. That’s about the best I can do quoting. But, the only musical that I have seen professionally done (besides Mama Mia which I thought was terrible) is Wicked! This tops the list for favorite musicals and I could probably quote every song from it.

And me liking musicals has nothing to do with me being gay.

Brilliant Brilliant Briliant, I Say!

As we’ve already established, I read a lot. And silly you, you thought it was just for fun. Wrong! So far, these are the most plausible ideas I’ve gleaned through my research in how to get this stupid body to be what I’m telling it to be:

1) Courtesy of Starters by Lissa Price—develop some nifty computer technology to have my consciousness inserted into some young ’un’s spry body, effectively squashing their being for the greater good of my own selfish happiness.

2) Courtesy of the Animorphs series by K.A. Applegate—get reincarnated as a malicious power-hungry slug intent on taking over the human race, an achieve just the perfect level of status that I can obtain a human host. Although no way would I turn down some of them other alien forms. Hm. Maybe that should be my new goal instead.

3) Courtesy of The Host by Stephenie Meyer—uh….so this one is actually very similar to number 2…. But cooler. Duh. Plus there’s none of that every-three-days rubbish. And speaking of rubbish…

4) Courtesy of Harry Potter by do you seriously not know?—Yeah. I have indeed integrated the speech of HP into my own idiolect, including rubbish, brilliant, bloody brilliant, bloody hell, bloody blood, and mate. As in, My mate made me read all these Harry Potter books. Anyway. Magic. Need I say more?

5) Courtesy of Aladdin the Disney movie because I can’t think of any books I’ve read with genies—There’s a genie! Three wishes, I could do with some of those. None of this benevolent world peace nonsense.

6) Courtesy of The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson—Get in a terrible car debacle, sustain serious burns over the majority of my body, and have to go through intense reconstructive surgery and therapy. Actually, I’m not sure how this would help me in the end, but it’s a freaking good book.

So there you have it. I’m still deciding among them which I think is the best. But whatever I end up going with, the end result will be that I don’t have to deal with this ridiculously stupid body of mine. Or possibly infection an extreme scar tissue, but I’ve always loved scars, so it’s a win-win. I mean, I realize it does good stuff for me sometimes, like letting me walk places and juggle baby geese and come out triumphant in wrestling matches (be ready; it’s going to happen), but still. I think if none of those options works out then I’m going to just have my body removed completely and exist as whatever intelligence/spirit/consciousness/cognitive entity exists. It’ll be great. I, for one, am rather looking forward to that.

Dreams and Fantasies in No Particular Order

I love to hike.  It tends to clear my mind; give me an opportunity to remove a lot of the noise that seems to endlessly plague my day-to-day routine.Well, I was on a hike with one of my bisexual girlfriends on Saturday and we got on the subject of fantasies. I obviously made some snarky comment about firemen and lots of "hoses" but, as I dwelt on the concept throughout the day, and as I was falling asleep that night, I started to wonder what my real fantasies were. 

Not merely sexual (I mean, really, who doesn't like a good uniform?), but what are some of my deepest desires? What do I long for?



Anyway, long story short, I woke up beaming yesterday after dreaming I had adopted six (yes, 6!) kids and I was happily in some relationship with some unknown guy. So, moral of the dream, my subconscious' fantasy is to be happily committed with lots of kids. I'm okay with that. 


Since waking up Sunday morning I have been thinking a lot about what I want out of this life and how I am going to achieve my dreams, goals, and greatest aspirations.  Honestly, the path my life is currently on does not completely coalesce with the direction I want it to go long term.  I am currently working on it but I still have a long way to go. But I am going to get there.Do I want to have six kids?  I don't know.  I want to have kids and I DON'T want to say 'no' to the idea of six kids but I don't think that is going to be a benchmark target for me.  I do know that I want to find someone - one person - I want to spend my life with and I hope to have the family, the kids, the house with the picket fence, and the dog.  Someday.  My greatest goal today? To make sure I am preparing myself to be the guy that gets it!What are some of your dreams and fantasies?

I did not get eaten by a bear

So, the word retroactive never seemed like a possibility until blogging.

But here I am on a happy little Tuesday typing up my happy little Sunday post for you to read.

It's retroactive.

My weekend was filled with adventures. All I can really say for now is I had fun.

I did not get eaten by a bear. I did not get murdered by a psychopath in the woods.

I did not drown.


Next week there will be pictures. (or maybe on Thursday if Jo beats me to it).

:)


~live your own truth~

This Was No Accident; This Was A Therapeutic Chain Of Events.. And Other Stories Of Dupree

People Read This?

So the other day Lee and I are BSing when this girl pipes in that she reads the blog. I was like O.O! I had no idea that she read it. And a shout out to her, I think it’s awesome that you read it J

But for anyone else out there that reads my junk that I don’t know, pipe up. I’d love to actually have a conversation with you instead of me simply spewing word vomit on you once a week.

How Far We’ve Come- Matchbox Twenty

Robbing The Cradle (And by Cradle I Mean Garments)

Before anyone gets any ideas I would like to make it apparent that this person is over 18. And by over I mean just 18. PreMish. Ready to go serve with his call in hand. But I like him (yea I know I like A LOT of people). And that is terrible right? I mean he’s ready to serve a Church that I don’t want to be a part of. He’s waiting for some temple marriage and I’m not aiming for that. I mean ABSOLUTELY NOTHING has happened (beside a few shy smiles) but it just makes me think of how I really can’t date anyone at BYU.

Chop Suey- System Of The Down

Independence Day 

So this was an amazing week. I don’t know what happened but I was just happy all the time! Example: A conversation between me and a coworker.

R: Why are you so happy Dupree?

Me: I think I took some drugs three years ago and they are just now kicking in.

I’ve been so active lately, caught up in service and friends, that I just haven’t worried about stuff. 

And something else totally worked out.

Remember how I said I would figure out everything by the Fourth? The night before a friend of mine (one of my roomies now) asked if I wanted to room with her. Before I was determined to get a single room next year because of the whole being-called-Satan-and-an-overall-terrible-person-because-I’m-gay thing. I just didn’t want to deal with the whole, guess what I am gay and no I’m not interested in you, thing.

So anyway she asked and I thought instantly no. And then I thought it about how she already knew I was gay and all my other shenanigans so obviously she was cool with me. Plus she’s dating E and I trust his judgment :P So anyway it just felt good and I told her on the Fourth yes. Actually I wrote her a note and when she saw me later she started jumping up and down. It was epic.  

Speeding Cars- Imogen Heap

This Was No Accident; This Was A Therapeutic Chain Of Events

So the other day (a week ago to be exact) I had the afternoon off of work. And honestly the day earlier hadn’t been that awesome.

Things weren’t happening the way I had wanted them too. I had just posted about my depression and being suicidal but how I would never do that…

So I’m down in the valley running errands and all I can think about is a gun to my head. I just wanted to be done. I was tired and I was over it.

As I leave Walmart I took some random road. And then another road that I had never even been on. I ended up on State St.

I was stressed and loosing it so I decided to hit up Starbucks. I was preoccupied when I was to the entrance and a horn honked at me. I was about to flip out on this person when I look up and realize that it’s E.

We get our drinks and sit and BS for two hours like we do. It was nice. It calmed me down. I wasn’t stressing over what I needed to do next, just relaxing.

While we were talking he mentioned my blog post. He told me that if it ever got that bad to let him know. That he would be there.

After a while we parted ways and I went to try and get my phone fixed, the place was closed. My friend was upset that I showed up way late to the girl’s night that I had planned. But I didn’t care. It didn’t faze my happy mood.

Point? Because occasionally my stories have them. I had no intentions to go to Starbucks, I just ended up on the road that would take me there. I guess what really got me was how coincidental it was. How right where I had no intentions of going was exactly what I needed. How one random turn, turned into one thought, which led to the conversation that made my week. I guess it just impacted me. It’s weird how little things in life can do that. One smile, one hello. Things that are so small pile up and make our lives. It’s odd (considering this guy is an atheist) that it makes me think of how a higher power must be there helping to guide us.

Camisado- Panic! At The Disco

So there you have it bloggers. I had a lot to say. My thoughts are always on the ramble but at least they are happier J

Love you guys

-Dupree