#2 Singing songs of adulation about Josh Weed and rendering my wishes useless

singingHow to begin? I cannot except by mentioning Josh Weed.

I hope to meet him some day. I wish to get to know him or even become his friend. So, if I choose to sing songs of adulation about Josh Weed here, I may easily render my wishes useless. He is too smart and too humble to be so deceived into a friendship.

But then, I live overseas and I’m not an American.There is no prospect of me ever visiting Seattle (that’s where he lives), nor has he a prospect of ever visiting my utterly obscure Eastern European country of residence. So, what the heck. I’m going to sing songs of adulation about Josh Weed.

A festering emotion

Before the link to his seminal coming out post popped at my Facebook feed (I remember exactly who among several hundred of my Facebook friends has passed it on – a guy as straight as a flag pole), I thought that I have dealt with my same-sex attraction for keeps. I haven’t had a crush on a guy for more than a decade. I had no problem with pornography. I did have occasional slip-ups with masturbation, but they had been rare and far between – sometimes months, sometimes years apart. (Besides, straight, faithful guys have them, don’t they?)

But there was something deep inside of me, something terrible that I couldn’t manage to get rid of, something so sublime and yet so sharp that was driving me ever so slightly nuts with every passing day. I didn’t know what it was, because I didn’t want to know.

Now I know what it was. A festering emotion that was pushed deep into the darkness of my subconsciousness. Frankly, I didn’t have a clue what to do with it. I had tried everything I possibly could. I tried to deny it. I tried to declare it crazy. I tried to embrace it with a gay relationship. I tried to nullify it with celibacy. I tried to chase it off by marrying a woman. I tried to pronounce it dead. Have I mentioned a denial?

Nothing worked.

And then Josh Weed popped at my Facebook feed.

(Selah.)

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