Excitement and Apprehension - Hand-wringing in the New Year

In about 2 hours I begin my 4 hour drive up to the valley of the Great Salt Lake to attend Scott's New Years Moho party/get-together/shindig/bash/hurrah.

Yesterday, I left LA at 6pm, after a long day at work.  I fought valiantly against the rest of Los Angeles, whose taillights formed a red serpent that slithered towards Sin City.   Climbing the mountain and crossing the desert, the winter cold whistled at the window.   My cracked ipod screen prohibits me from listening to my music in any order except alphabetical by artist,  and so I was unable to think straight.  Exhausted and spent much more quickly than usual, my general pattern of driving thrown off by the excess traffic and the morons who insist on driving in the fast lane 10 mph underneath the speed limit (which is about 20 mph underneath the general flow of traffic), I had to stop, nap, and take night photography.

The photo at the right was taken at about 10pm, 8 second exposure, ISO 80, F-3.1 at a ranch exit in California.  Could it be a metaphor for my life?  The road I want to take is unavailable to me...?

I thought I might not make it.  I wondered why I was driving 700 miles.  Spending hundreds of dollars in lost wages from taking extra days off, gas, and food.  What was I doing?  I don't know any of these people!  I read their words on the screen and I hear of their struggles, but I don't know them.  And they don't know me.  What do I expect from this?  What do I want?  What am I nervous about?

I've been thinking about this a lot.  On the one hand I have been super excited about this party since I realized I would actually be able to attend.  The chance to meet a group of people who know what I've been going through, who know the framework of my thoughts, the struggle that it causes, and the crippling indecision that it creates.

When I was still in the closet, I used to subconsciously deny my sexuality by process of comparison.  I had a perception of the elements that made a homosexual, and by process of simple A+B=C, I concluded that if "that" was gay, and "that" certainly wasn't me, then I wasn't gay.

But I now know that there are all kinds of gay men, and I see the blogosphere as the only community I somewhat identify with.  But even there I sometimes feel like an outsider.  Most of the blogs I enjoy reading the most seem to be of good men who are continuing to stay in the church, even if they want a boyfriend or are pursuing a relationship.  For me, as fallout from the Prop 8 battle in California, I lost my testimony.

I lost my testimony.

I've never written or said that before.  But I think it's true.  Am I really a Moho?  I don't know.  But being gay didn't make me lose my faith.  I lost my faith when the things the church taught me my whole life were thrown out the window, and I chose to follow my heart, my conscience.  And sadly, since the church doesn't really allow personal interpretations, I had to leave, lest my faith be constantly questioned by doting members.  I couldn't make it work.  I was tired of trying.  All I can really say these days is that if I'm wrong, and I won't be returning to the kingdom of heaven, at least I'll be in good company.  My father, older sister and brother will all be there... so much for families together forever, I guess.

I closing, I'm very nervous about how this evening will go.  Will I be loved, welcomed and accepted?  Will I make lasting, life-long friends?  Will I learn something about myself?  Will God show me the path I should follow?

Or will it just be another year of "I don't knows".

See you when I see you.  Goodnight.