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an opening to a story of life i guess |
Can anyone truelly say if we are born to be what we become or rather that we become what we wish in some way to be, by the devices in which we put before ourselves? I don't think when I was born my parents saw a future fag in heels, even though its been quoted more than once I came out of the womb with heels, a cigarette and a Jack and Coke. Some of the devices I put before myself, in coping with life, a dream never broken nor realized in full, a constant party always leaving me drunk and dellisional and wanting one more taste. Did they see, realize, that what they birthed would one day go against everything they taught him and they believed to struggle to be someone other than a shell in a closet? Did they think that one day they're beautiful new child whould one day have to be harressed, picketed, segregated and prohibited for not being socially correct in a manner that was no ones choice but his? No ones descision but his, to be a gay man in a straight world. Did they think one day their son wouldn't be able to marry? To bear another? No one can say what a parent thinks when they first see thier child but I think they thought I'd have the American dream, whatever that may be. A man with a wife, a successful career, a daughter, a son, maybe a dog and a white picket fence. If thats what they thought it was wrong from the get go, the only fence I ever had was a fence of denial, hidden desires and secrets, hiding, shame and love. I'm guessing its quite a shock for a parent to see how a child turns out after the fanasty world they tried to provide for them. Why a child whould choose to struggled and be hurt and ridiculed for the satisfaction of being someone the world can't understand, accept or just sterotype. To suffer for the love behind the locked bedroom door, which should be no ones business but they're own, I don't think a parent could ache for their child anymore. But it is what a parent does when their child takes the road less taken,rising up against the world's everyday common taboo, that the breaders and the parents are split apart. A simple breader disowns a child, tries to change them, but a parent gives love and support, no matter at what cause. I didn't have breaders, I had parents, saints, who even though I went against they're own beleifs loved me, supported me, cherished me, changed with me, through it all they were the pillars holding up my castle. Chapter One I am a 22 year old gay man,does that scare you? Am I for those simple words what you fear one day a son of yours could be? Its not so bad, its a life, full of facades, envy, masks and games. Simply put its just another road in life, like most others. I like many of you are married, well more like engaged, we can't technically get married. We can have a commitment cermoney, same thing without a piece of paper. And I'd rather have that than nothing. Some people make love about a piece paper a judge gives you,but how can a stranger tell you that you love someone and it will last forever. How can a judge say a couple never married isn't married by thier own standards just b/c they didn't bring in a slip of paper to the relationship, to make some stranger think they are? And how can we say gays can't marry b/c they don't have the paper to prove it? Isn't marriage and a wedding about love and declaring it, and promising it to each other, your friends and under God, I thought so. So many people need a piece of paper to validate they're love, but me all I need is the love in my heart and the affection of my husband; to tell me this is forever and married we are, just without a cermony or some piece of paper. President Bush doesn't have to validate my love, my marriage, my life for it to be true. Hes a man hundreads of miles away from me, who doesn't know me and doesn't care to and on the same token I don't think I care to know the idiot trying to run a country but driving into the ground. But that so is life. My life is full of chacaters which inspired me in part to write this. From the man I love, to the glistening Penny, the gay uncle, the roomates, agravating as they can be at times, as they travel in and out of my life. To be continued. |