Dear Jane, It’s not you. It’s me.

You know I’m never calling you again right?   It’s not because I don’t love you. Because I do.   I love you enough to keep you away from me because I know that you deserve better than what I can offer you.   I’d hate to hold you hostage while I made up my mind to be consistent and be all that you needed and deserved in a woman.  My life has not yet come full circle and being as incomplete as I am, I fear there is not much that I can offer you.   You once said that you feared you were out of my league but the truth is; I am out of your league.   I’m just not good enough for you.   I realized that the underlying reason for my holding you and others like you at arms length is that I will never live up to the expectations you have of me.  I thought this entire time that I was setting and raising that bar for myself only.   It never really dawned on me that you would be my judge and juror.   The chaperone who would see to it that I lived up to the standards that I set so high.    And now that the realization has dawned on me, I have no choice but to accept that I am not ready for a relationship.   Not with you, not with anyone.   The truth of the matter is,  I am still not satisfied with self.   

Just too ‘GOOD’ to be true

I just got finished reading this book by the late E. Lynn Harris.  There were some truths that I came to accept while reading the book and in some way they awakened a spark of hope inside me.  The book is about skeletons.   You know the kind of skeletons we keep in our closets.   The skeletons we hide while portraying a picture perfect existence to the world.   Sometimes I think about what my life would’ve been like had I confessed some of my earlier wrong-doings.   Be that as it may, there still isn’t a strong enough argument to convince me to leave myself wide open.   I just know that I am not perfect and though I exude confidence and conceit  to most, I know that deep down I have my own imperfections.  Perhaps that is the driving force behind my continuous strife towards self-improvement.


The paradox that is me.   or maybe it isn’t a paradox after all.  There is such a thing as a Gay Christian isn’t there?   I’ve been trying to make these tiny little changes in my life.   A bible verse to start or end the day gives me a sense of direction as I’ve been miserably flailing like a fish out of water for the past 7 years.   I remember being as sure of myself as I was of my own footing on solid ground .   But I was 7 years younger and 20 lbs Lighter then.   Today, the notions that swim around in my brain consist of  deep theological processes;


  • Why am I here?
  • Why are we here?
  • Where will I go when I die?


The more the days progress, the more people pass away the more I wonder  where I’ll be tomorrow or even in the next 5 minutes.   Should my sojourn end tomorrow or next week, will I have accomplished my divine purpose?   If so, what is it?   I’d hate to think of myself as being a useless waste of space.    I do know that all the experiences I’ve had—the Highs and the Lows—should amount to something more than just everyday occurrence.   But exactly what?   So I continue to read a scripture each day.   Yesterday I read Genesis 40 1-14, 23 (as instructed by Our Daily Bread).  The moral of the passage was “be patient when waiting for what God has in store for you”.   But I tried to fit it into my own existence.   I tried to piece things together using those verses.   I assumed it meant that I should exercise more patience in general.   I know that I’m typically prone to anger and that I can be quick-tempered and I thought It unusually ironic today when troubleshooting with a customer who remarked on how patient I was.    It almost felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.    There was no crying, no frustration.  Just the soothing almost-monotone voice that women in general have come to know and love.   Still it surprises me because despite the soothing tone, I know that I can be quick-tempered, cynical and sarcastic.   I guess I can chalk it up to God working through me.   Hopefully one day,  I’ll be a different person.  Maybe one day I’ll come full circle

So there you have it.  I’ve read all 7 Merry Gentry Books by Laurell K Hamilton.   It was simply an addiction I had to feed.  I found myself buying novel after novel and having lucid dreams about the characters.  I’m waiting for the 8th book – Divine Misdemeanors—to hit the shelves in December.   It’s been a long time since I’ve picked up one book — let alone 7 books – and not been able to put it back down.   Now I’m sitting here with an itch to scratch because December 8th can’t come fast enough.   And I blame her for introducing me to this newly formed addiction.   The downside;  she is no longer mine.   She’s the one who introduced me to Laurell K Hamilton.    And now that I’ve so indulged myself in the Land of Faerie, I am greeted with my own shocking reality.   The reality that the love of my life will no longer be in my life.  She broke it off with me — not that anything was official.    But it feels like a break up.   And though I’m disheartened by it, I realized that it had to happen sooner or later.   I love her, but I for one am so used to going it alone, that I know within my heart of hearts that we cannot be.   I know I cannot be like everyone else around me or like the happy couples who sit on porches year after year month after month, day after day – growing old together.   It is not within my divine makeup and for that I am truly sad.   Sad because I know that it’ll make for a very lonely existence.    I just know that my heart will always be with her from where I stand.  I know that there are nights when I yearn the opportunity to stand up on my tiptoes and plant a soft kiss on her lips.   But what is one night to a lifetime but a drop in the bucket.   Who am I fooling,  I can’t deal with myself for a lifetime much less to subject anyone to that kind of hell.