Showing posts with label bridge.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bridge.. Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Mormons, Gays, Fire, Bridges

Matt here.

So, this week. Keeping Mormons after dropping Mormonism.

I have a couple of friends in SLC who are Mormon and who believe in the church, but also strongly support gay rights. One of them even volunteers with the Trevor project. They've each hosted me in their homes and supported my plans for love, family, and atheism; it's pretty much a no-brainer that their Mormonism doesn't bother me. They're good friends, and easy to love because they love me, and I can feel it.

But then, if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?

I have a few friends in Utah and Arizona, including my roommates from the Cozy House, who are more traditionally Mormon. They voted for Prop 8 and similar and think the recent SCOTUS decisions were the result of activist judges. They "don't agree with homosexuality."

These people are much more difficult to love. Conversation often gets strangled as I try not to bring up the guy I have a crush on or how happy I was when Prop 8 fell and so on. Sometimes one or the other of us will not be circumspect enough and prick the other with a needle about their delusions or my immorality. Keeping a relationship with these people often hurts.

Yet, they've also shared their homes with me. These people have listened when I needed to be heard and held me up during scary-dark times. They're generally good, smart people, focused on their families. I have memories with them, and connections, and in most cases I don't want to let them go.

Keeping up our relationships is a bit of a dilemma. Talking with these Mormons is usually as uncomfortable as it is enlightening, as infuriating as it is good to reminisce. I find myself weighing each one: Is this worth keeping up? Do I want to still know these people?

Mostly the answer has been yes. In large part, this is because I want to be a man who has a wide filter bubble. Partly it's because I don't want one's opinion about homosexuality or religion to be a dealbreaker, and partly it's because I don't want everything to always come back to me and people like me. I don't want other people's narrowness to make me narrow.

Sometimes, it's a dilemma. Egg* and I, for example, were homeschooled and then early college students together. She's essentially my sister from another mister, in that we had our phases of hate and love and we spent far, far too much time together. Egg is very Mormon (the kind that Doesn't Agree With Homosexuality), and it was difficult for her when I came out over the phone while at BYU, but it also made a lot of sense, and she's adapted well. Although she, like my sister, feels the need to remind me that she Doesn't Agree every time we talk about boys, we do talk about boys.

However. While I was in Japan she got married to a Mormon man who also Doesn't Agree With Homosexuality--so much that he literally will not stay in the same room as me. I was at his house visiting with Egg; he said hello, moved to another room, and put in headphones. I took a chair next to him at a recent event; he sat stonily for five minutes and then moved to the other side of the yard, where he remained until I left, an hour or so later. Egg confirms that he is creeped out because I'm gay, and I have to say, that makes me livid. The bridges I've tried to build to him (because he's Egg's husband) are on fire.

. . . but then, if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?

The bridges may survive, scorched, because he's Egg's husband. There's a point where it's just not worth it, even if it means giving up Egg. There's a point where I'm going to start throwing gas instead of sand.

But we're not there yet.

*My Egg is not at all like this Egg, I just couldn't resist the urge to share.

***

Here is a related article.
Here is a second related article.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

A postcard

Matt here. The post I had planned for today isn't ready yet. In the meantime I thought I'd share something with you: 

My older brother sent me an email today. The one I haven't talked to in three years.

***

"We just got the New Year's postcard that you sent.  It's beautiful!  Thank you."

***

I don't think we'll ever agree about who was at fault in the events that split us up. He hurt me more and made me angrier than I think anyone else ever has. To me at least it's clear that I'm in the right, but he disagrees.

***

If I'd insisted he see things from my perspective before reaching out to him—building a bridge—I wouldn't have this little tendril of hope that maybe he's ready to stop insisting I see things from his perspective and one day we'll be friends again, even though it can't ever be like it was. 

***

I want my brother back.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

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~