I hereby make the proud announcement that I no longer have virgin lips! The problem is, there really isn't anything to be proud of. In fact, this post will probably only prove to show how bad of a kisser I am. I'm not really sure how to approach it all so it'll be a jumbly mess anyway.
While I can't say that drex and salad's recent progress in the kissing arena is wholly unrelated, I should make it clear that Girl 1 (Note: I'll use "Girl 1" until I can come up with a better name; for those of you who know me, Girl 1 is who you think it is) and I had been tossing around the idea of kissing for several reasons.
Some of the reasons included:
-because I hadn't kissed anyone before
-because I felt inadequate and untrained; I needed lessons
-because Girl 1 has wanted to kiss me for five years
-because Girl 1 might have a magic kiss that will turn any guy straight-- hey, isn't it worth a shot??
I've rarely or never thought about kissing girls or guys. I wasn't opposed to kissing girls, though; the chance just never presented itself. I suppose I always just assumed that it would all work out well once I did it. Even since admitting to myself that I'm not attracted to girls, I've still believed that kissing would be fun.
This brings us to the scene last night: Girl 1 and I had just finished watching a movie in the back seat of her car, on the side of the road somewhere on the other side of Heber City. We were cuddling in our blankets and I decided to make a move in spite of my fears (here's where the evidence of me as a bad kisser begins). I couldn't do it though; I couldn't just plant one. So I asked her the most romantic quesion ever: "Will you teach me?" I hope you can feel my burning embarrassment as I type this.
What followed was some amount of kiss preparation that I guess they just don't show in movies: awkward conversation, repositioning of bodies, sharing of breath mints. Anyway, it eventually happened. And then I said I messed up-- so we tried it again. I sat back again on the seat (and THIS is the real evidence)-- and started crying! "Grr... I'm not supposed to cry," I said. It's hard to describe what I was feeling. After all of the fear and all of the wondering, kissing was simply... skin on skin. Or maybe even worse. It was kind of like kissing a pillow-- but maybe more like kissing a pillow where the pillowcase has some odd-looking stains on it. Kind of like that.
"Why are you crying?" she asked. I didn't have a clear answer.
"How are things ever going to work out?" I wondered out loud. Realistically, I wasn't hoping for that kiss that would turn me straight. I just wanted a kiss that would mean hope for all of my goals to marry and have a family.
All I got was a kiss that meant, "I'm sorry, it's not going to be that easy."
I Think It's Time...
I think it's about time I told my parents. If I drive home early Tuesday the 24th, I can be home for almost an entire week before school starts again. I hate to put them through this in the middle of their trying to move. But I think it would be unfair to tell them after spring term and jet off to Japan the next day, leaving us with no easy means of communication. And I simply can't wait to tell them after I get home at the end of August. So even though I'm nowhere near figuring any of this (life, I mean) out, I feel like reaching out for their help now.
Acceptance
Today was amazing. My feelings were kind of a continuation of the weird things I was feeling over the weekend, except for one important difference: Today I started to understand what I was feeling.
Meeting at the stairs was, at face value, such a simple thing. Yet sitting there in the warm sun, talking completely openly with close (yes, close despite also being new) friends, made me incredibly happy. The happiness came back after the Gay-Straight Alliance Mac and Cheese party when I once again was able to spend time with people who I knew understood everything.
And walking home I realized that I felt happiness at those times because I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. After months, maybe years, of never feeling that I was acceptable, I found myself in a place where I could be me and that was okay. It feels good to have friends.
Meeting at the stairs was, at face value, such a simple thing. Yet sitting there in the warm sun, talking completely openly with close (yes, close despite also being new) friends, made me incredibly happy. The happiness came back after the Gay-Straight Alliance Mac and Cheese party when I once again was able to spend time with people who I knew understood everything.
And walking home I realized that I felt happiness at those times because I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. After months, maybe years, of never feeling that I was acceptable, I found myself in a place where I could be me and that was okay. It feels good to have friends.
Sunday Will Come
Today has been my favorite Easter yet. In some ways that's surprising-- it's my first without family or as a missionary; it's my first without an Easter basket. But recent significant events in life have made it my first real Easter.
This past September I finally looked my same-gender attraction in the face and decided to do something about it. It was the most frightening thing I've ever done. What followed was some of the deepest anguish and confusion I had yet experienced. With some outside help, I was able to stop hating myself. Finally, within the past few weeks, I started the process of seeking help from close friends. I've seen incredible changes as I come to terms with everything. The crying hasn't stopped, though.
As I began accepting myself for who I am, attractions and all, I was scared of what the future held. I couldn't fully trust myself. So I decided early, and I continue to decide often, that my testimony comes first; that whatever the difficulty, I will stay true to what I absolutely know and that I will never turn my back on the Savior.
This past Friday marked the first time I've had any association with people I knew were gay and who knew I was gay. It put me in a mood all weekend that I can't figure out. That's perhaps a topic for a different post. Owing to the fact that I was in a very thoughtful state, and that I had forgotten to fast two weeks ago, I decided to fast on Saturday evening.
As I started my fast, I committed to try harder to overcome the weaknesses that I often give in to. I promised that I would stop defining myself solely by this problem, but by my other other talents and the fact that I am a child of God. I acknowledged that staying on the path I've committed to live will be harder than I can fathom. I acknowledged that it would require a miracle. I decided that it's worth it, in order to receive the gift of a family of my own, either in this life or after I am released through death, to keep the covenants I've made.
Today is the first Easter I finally understand the significance of the Resurrection. It's the first time I can look forward to the Resurrection with perfect hope. It's the first Easter I can thank my Savior with my entire heart for that gift.
A ward member today reminded us of Elder Wirthlin's talk from last conference about the Resurrection. Elder Wirthlin referred to the dark Friday on which Jesus Christ suffered and then died for us, and to the resulting doom and despair. Then he spoke about the following Sunday on which Christ rose triumphant from the grave.
"Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.
"But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come."
I don't know what life will bring. I don't know what I'll do with this blog. I guess I'll just use it to document my feelings and experiences as I wait for my Sunday.
This past September I finally looked my same-gender attraction in the face and decided to do something about it. It was the most frightening thing I've ever done. What followed was some of the deepest anguish and confusion I had yet experienced. With some outside help, I was able to stop hating myself. Finally, within the past few weeks, I started the process of seeking help from close friends. I've seen incredible changes as I come to terms with everything. The crying hasn't stopped, though.
As I began accepting myself for who I am, attractions and all, I was scared of what the future held. I couldn't fully trust myself. So I decided early, and I continue to decide often, that my testimony comes first; that whatever the difficulty, I will stay true to what I absolutely know and that I will never turn my back on the Savior.
This past Friday marked the first time I've had any association with people I knew were gay and who knew I was gay. It put me in a mood all weekend that I can't figure out. That's perhaps a topic for a different post. Owing to the fact that I was in a very thoughtful state, and that I had forgotten to fast two weeks ago, I decided to fast on Saturday evening.
As I started my fast, I committed to try harder to overcome the weaknesses that I often give in to. I promised that I would stop defining myself solely by this problem, but by my other other talents and the fact that I am a child of God. I acknowledged that staying on the path I've committed to live will be harder than I can fathom. I acknowledged that it would require a miracle. I decided that it's worth it, in order to receive the gift of a family of my own, either in this life or after I am released through death, to keep the covenants I've made.
Today is the first Easter I finally understand the significance of the Resurrection. It's the first time I can look forward to the Resurrection with perfect hope. It's the first Easter I can thank my Savior with my entire heart for that gift.
A ward member today reminded us of Elder Wirthlin's talk from last conference about the Resurrection. Elder Wirthlin referred to the dark Friday on which Jesus Christ suffered and then died for us, and to the resulting doom and despair. Then he spoke about the following Sunday on which Christ rose triumphant from the grave.
"Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.
"But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come."
I don't know what life will bring. I don't know what I'll do with this blog. I guess I'll just use it to document my feelings and experiences as I wait for my Sunday.
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