...and the truth shall make you mad.
I know I should be grateful. I know I should be happy, but like the stubborn, spoiled, petulant little child that I am, I'm so angry I feel like tearing myself in two with my own hands. Has anyone ever felt like that, where they're so angry and the only place they can rightly direct the anger is at themselves? And they want it to be bloody and messy? And fatal? That's how I feel right now.
This morning, on a whim, I decided to find all those unread messages in my Facebook inbox. Of the 25 or so odd messages, one came from a cousin-in-law sent to me over a month ago. Attached to it was the link to a blog written by a gay Mormon with a family. I read it.
I've heard that hope and despair can't exist in someone at the same time, but I swear that was my reaction. And then I got really mad. Mad that he'd waited ten years to talk about his life. Mad that his circumstances had been so favorable. Mad that after finally finding some peace, someone had come along and messed it all up again.
Honestly, though, in the end, I have no one to blame but myself, and that makes me maddest of all.
I had wondered if you had read that and was waiting to hear your opinion on it. Jessica and I know how true you are to yourself and it makes people like me embarrassed but also resolute in perfection. I selfishly wished I had taken lessons from you this Summer so we can talk about life in general. Oh, and, I guess, to learn how to sing...
ReplyDeleteAs for a prescription, I usually let karma decide my fate in a Pandora station. Sometimes it's spot on, and other times --- not (ENOUGH JON SCHMIDT ALREADY!).