Chapter 3: The Unexamined Life, pt.2

          This blog entry was supposed to be a direct continuation of the last one. I was going to continue the therapy session but, instead of Patrick Stewart and Chris Evans, it would be God sitting in the armchair across from the couch. He would be played by Morgan Freeman, of course, but not because he did actually play the role of God in “Bruce Almighty”. I’ve always thought of Morgan Freeman as that wise, curmudgeonly old grandfather who’s always nearby when you need a peppermint or some necessary advice. He seems genuinely loving, patient and kind, but he won’t put up with any of your crap either. He’ll gladly listen to all your complaining and ranting, nodding every once in awhile and giving an affirmative “uh-huh”, then tell you exactly what he thinks, whether you like it or not, and then send you on your way with a fresh cup of coffee and a maple bar.
       But, after some consideration, I decided to nix the whole therapy scene, and just get to the point. There is such a thing in the writer’s room as running a metaphor – or an idea – into the ground, and this seemed like a perfect example of that. In the last couple weeks since I wrote Part 1, I’ve been thinking about what I wrote, and I realized I needed to start this episode by clarifying a couple things:
        1. My relationship with my parents and my brothers is very good. In fact, we as a family are very close, and that’s something I have treasured for many years. Yes, we have our issues and our share of dysfunction, just like any other family. But I also feel that our family is a bit different from most other adult families in that we all genuinely love one another and we sincerely look forward to those times when we are all together in person. I have never understood why so many of my friends, colleagues, coworkers and/or acquaintances over the years have dreaded the holidays. They have complained to me on various occasions that they really aren’t looking forward to Thanksgiving or Christmas because they have to spend time with their parents or siblings whom they don’t get along with.
          I have never experienced this. Thanksgiving and Christmas are my favorite times of the year. I look forward to going home to spend time with my parents, my brothers, their wives, and all my nieces and nephews. We have a wonderful time, and yes, there have been one or two years where some of us had some arguments and/or minor disagreements over this or that. But we never allowed those conflicts to interfere with our time together, and we always came back from those times stronger as a family and celebrating our love for God and for one another.
           My parents, in particular, have always set an example for us boys of what God’s love should be towards not only one another but the world as well. They taught us what it meant to be a good citizen in the world, and how to properly love and respect those that we meet in our travels through this life. They taught us right from wrong, and I know that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having grown up in a loving, Christian home. Yes, my childhood was filled with a lot of conflict – mainly between me and my brothers. I also fought with my parents as a teenager over the typical adolescent stuff – music, TV, church, rules, curfews, etc. etc. All of this is normal for any family and also a standard part of growing up. What made it unique for me was struggling with my homosexuality as a teenager and not being able to talk about that with anyone in my family, my friends or my church. In retrospect, I think that if I’d had someone I could have gone to and opened up with about my struggle, I wouldn’t have had such a difficult adolescence.
        The main reason I feel a need to clarify this right now is because I don’t want you, the reader, to think that I still resent my parents – or my father in particular – for what was said or done regarding this issue when I was a kid. That line from my father about homosexuals was used to illustrate a point, but I don’t think he feels that strongly about it today. I will admit that he and I have never directly discussed this, but I know that both my parents have always loved and accepted me, no matter what. They still do. In fact, the two of them could teach a thing or two to many other parents of gays and lesbians of my generation about what it means to truly accept your child even though you believe that their sexual preference and/or lifestyle choice is not in line with God’s will.
         The same goes for my brothers. I love them more than life itself, and I would gladly give my own life for theirs without a second thought, if necessary. One of my very few, genuine regrets in my life thus far is how terribly and cruelly I treated my brothers when I was a teenager. I should have been a friend and a mentor to them, especially Chad and Caleb, but I wasn’t. I constantly told them how I wished I had been an only child, and I was always mocking and making fun of all three of them every chance I got. My teen years, especially, were rather harsh for all four of us, as I lashed out at my brothers with all my own hurt and pain at not fitting in at school and not being able to share with anyone my struggle over my own sexuality.
           But, thank God, in the years following high school, as all of us became adults and made our own ways in the world, the loving home that our parents had created for us seeped into our hearts and our souls, taking root there in ways none of us ever realized. The four of us eventually reconnected as adults, little bits here and there over time, until we came back together as close as any brothers could ever be. I can’t even tell you exactly how or where this transformation took place. It was just many little things over time – text messages, emails, phone calls, spending time together during the holidays, etc. There was also other major life events such as weddings, having kids, getting divorced and remarried, graduating college, and just life in general. All of these things have a way of reminding one how important a family is and, especially, not to take it for granted. I have met many different people in my time in this world – my short time in the Army, from college, and from my many different jobs – and it never ceases to amaze or humble me when I have learned that many of those people did not have it as good as I did when I was a kid. Many of them hate their parents and haven’t spoken to them in years. Same for their siblings. Some have been through divorce and never see their own kids, while others grew up as the only child and they’ve told me how lonely that is.
       So, to sum up this point, I treasure my family as the greatest gift God has given me, and I don’t want them – or you – to come away from this blog thinking otherwise. :-)
        2. In that same vein, I also became close friends with most of those classmates who did tease and make fun of me when were in elementary school. And while they weren’t so cruel and mean in junior high and high school, I didn’t make it easy for them to like me when I was a teenager. I did cause a lot of my own troubles because of my social awkwardness and my painful attempts to fit in with the “cool kids”. As I stated in the last episode, I did eventually realize that I needed to stop trying so hard and just do my own thing. Once that happened, somewhere in my sophomore year, if I recall correctly, everything else kind of just fell into place, and those other nine people in my graduating class are still friends with me today. (We just had our 20 year reunion, in fact, three years ago.)
          And now, to the main point of this week’s episode: I’ve been thinking about why I’ve been feeling so lonely now, at this point in my adult life, and how that relates to what I experienced in my adolescence. One of the realizations I came to three weeks ago was that because of all the teasing, the bullying, and the social anxiety that I experienced as a young kid and, later, as an adolescent, I built a wall about myself to protect me from the pain and anger at not fitting in. And again, that conclusion seems rather obvious now, but it hadn’t been obvious to me all these years. Or maybe I had been aware of it on a subconscious level all this time, but only now did I decide to finally address it directly.
        Whatever the case, that realization also led to another one: I have had no interest in a romantic relationship with anyone because it means I would have to let someone inside the wall. There’s probably other reasons for why I’ve never been interested in getting a boyfriend, but that’s probably the main one. And when I was young, I was fine with this. As I said before, that decision in high school to stop trying so hard to fit in and just do my own thing has served me quite well all these years. And I believe that I have been truly happy being on my own. I have never felt like I needed another person to complete me. I have always felt whole and complete in and of myself.
          But here’s the funny thing about getting older, and this is a realization that I came to just in the last few days. For the last couple months or so, I have been driving myself crazy trying to figure out why not being in a relationship is suddenly bothering me so much. And then, in the last couple days, it finally hit me: I am not the same man now that I was when I made that decision 20 years ago.
       Now, I know what you’re thinking: well, duh. 20 years has passed. Of course you’re not the same person you were back then.     
          Yes, I hear you, but now let me explain. One feature of aging that no one has ever told me about is that you start questioning and re-thinking a lot of desires, passions, beliefs and/or commitments that you had, until now, pretty much taken for granted. My desire to live life as a professionally single person is a perfect example of this. When I was in college, I had more fun just playing the field and not making a commitment to any one person. That’s typical for every young person, no matter your sexual preference. But, at some point in our mid to late twenties, most of us end up meeting that one guy or girl who causes us to rethink our position on the whole “professionally single” issue. We fall madly in love, in other words, and we then realize we don’t want to spend the rest of our lives alone.
         That never happened for me. I have never, in my whole life, even up to the present, ever met that one guy who has completely turned my world upside down. The subject of almost every rock anthem and pop diva love song has never happened to me. I have no clue what falling in love actually feels like. I have heard it discussed and described many times by friends and family. I have sung along to many great  love songs and anthems by every major recording artist since Elvis Presley. I have read and discussed the love poetry and sonnets of the many greats in classical western literature in many of my English courses throughout my academic career. I have watched several of the greats of the romantic comedy category at Blockbuster over the years, and while most of them are terrible, there are a few that I still have in my own DVD library that I have occasionally pulled out to reminisce with.
          But I have never, ever in my whole life ever been “twitterpated” as goes the classic line from Bambi. And that’s never been a problem for me. I never cared. In fact, I considered it a strength. I have never had to waste money on flowers, candy, jewelry, romantic weekend getaways, or any of the other crap that boyfriends and girlfriends spend on each other just for the chance at maybe getting laid. If I ever got horny enough, all I’ve needed to do is text one of the few regulars in my phone book. Sex without any of the trappings of a relationship has always been the best kind of sex in my book. Nor have I had to deal with any of the drama that comes with a relationship. All that fighting, then compromising, then forgiveness, and then repeating that process over and over has never been my cup of tea. In fact, I’ve never understood why a relationship was worth all that trouble in the first place.
         But, once again, we’re back at the present, and I’m now 42 years old. And, for some reason, I’m looking around at all the people in my life – and on social media – that are happily married and/or in a relationship, and, all of sudden, that just drives me fucking crazy. And maybe, on a subconscious level, this is why I created a profile on Tinder back in June. As you’ll recall from episode 2, “Alfred” (not his real name) and I hit it off pretty well, and we had a pretty good first date, to boot. And things seemed to go pretty well up until a month ago when he suddenly ghosted me. Or, maybe, I ghosted him first. In any case, it appears to have been mutual, and now I’m even more annoyed than before at being single.
         Which brings me to that big revelation I alluded to earlier about aging. I just recently realized how much we change throughout our adult lives as we get older. Those passions and desires and things that interest us and consume our time when we’re in our twenties are not necessarily the same passions, desires, and things that we care about in our forties, or our fifties, or our sixties. We as people are not just flesh and blood. We are conscious, thinking, emotional, intellectual human beings, and the parts of us that make us who we are are those passions, desires, interests, and things that we care about. It’s what makes me me.
         Some of those qualities can be defined as hobbies or interests, the things that I do in my spare time or what I’m passionate about in life. The fact that I have always been a science fiction fan, for example, or my writing. Other qualities can be emotional, or intellectual, or parts of me that aren’t necessarily physical. The fact that I’m gay, for example; or that I love to read, or that I’m an introvert, or that I once used to be an Atheist.
        In other words, those things that make up who we are as an individual human being, that define us to the world and to other people around us, are not always constant or unchanging. And that’s what I had never realized until now. I have always been happy living my life on my own, by my own terms, and I found peace in being alone. I have never felt the need to have that “special someone” in my life, but now, for reasons I cannot explain, I’m no longer content with that. I think this is why so many people at this point in their mid-lives have a crisis. They buy a new car or get divorced or change careers. Perhaps my loneliness is nothing more than a mid-life crisis?
         Maybe. I think that’s oversimplifying it a bit, but it does make a kind of sense. I’ve been questioning everything else in my life – and the world around me – at this point, why not this?
        And maybe this does have something to do with my recent religious conversion. Does God no longer want me to be single? Does he have someone in mind to be my companion? I don’t know. I’m still exploring my new relationship with God, so I can’t really say for sure at this point.
        What I will say for sure is this: I am NOT going to find that special someone online. I am done with all the dating apps and websites. They’re a waste of time. For now, I have made some peace with being single. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did a few weeks ago. So I’m not in a hurry to meet that “special guy”. If it does happen, though, we’ll end up meeting in real life, face to face. Which means that my only opportunity for this is at work, because I have no social life.
         That’s it for now, folks. Once again, I wrote far more than I planned, but this feels good. And if you’ve read all of this, and if it’s helped you in some way, then I’m even more glad.
            Until next time…