Hey Could You...

As a brief personal update, things have been going alright for me.  I participated in a very enjoyable beta test for the game Guild Wars 2, and I've been enjoying playing Diablo III.  I've also had some fun playing the XBox 360 version of Minecraft (you can see some of my musings on the game here).  I've been finding that I'm still experience some anger over some things that happened a few months ago.  I feel frustrated when people ask me about dating or when family ask me about girls I know.  I still have feelings of being misunderstood.  I have been experiencing some loneliness, but it's not nearly as intense as it has been in the past.  I had an excellent birthday party with parents and friends.  We played a lot of Magic.  It was a blast.  And oddly, the song from this post keeps running through my head.

Also, I've been become more keenly aware of how often I find myself "checking out" the men around me.  I feel an odd mixture of disgust and fear about it.  Sometimes I'm able to tell myself "Hey, this is a co-worker, you shouldn't be looking at them like that!".  Other times I feel ashamed about it, and I'm afraid that the person will know what I'm doing.  Part of the reason is that I somehow want to connect with the other man.  I want to feel his equal, or I want his affection/attention/love.  I try to tell myself that "I am a man too".  I've found that the idea that I am "less than" a man has crept back into my thoughts and it definitely is influencing my behavior.

So, I don't think I've touched on this topic before, but I have a deep fear of being asked to do things.  I recently received a new calling to teach in my Elder's Quorum on the second Sunday's.  I was terrified to accept.  When I did it, the experience was very enjoyable.  Many times I've been asked to speak in church, and I've always been terrified.  Although I shake like crazy when I do it, most of the talks come out alright.  I've been asked to participate in a number of other blogs, and I always feel that fear of 'Will I do a good enough job?' or 'Will people like me?'.   Yesterday, a member of the bishopric called me up and asked me to speak this Sunday in church.  Immediately, my mind raced about how unworthy I was and my body broke out into a cold sweat.  After a few moments of brain lock, my mind finally started working and I said yes.  I've been dreading the speaking assignment ever since (it hasn't even been 24 hours!).  I guess I suffer from performance anxiety.  I feel like I have to do an excellent job at what I do.  Or I just don't like that many people watching me at once.

Oh well, I'll survive.

Music That Speaks To Me - Better Than A Hallelujah by Amy Grant

I was driving in this morning, and this song came to play on the radio.  Lately, I've been struggling a lot with my faith.  I've adopted a somewhat apathetic approach toward the church, partially because I've felt misunderstood in something.  I had made a risk, a misguided attempt to make things 'work' that fell outside of the lines of the gospel.  Many times when I've shared it, I felt like I didn't get a chance to fully explain what had been going on or why I did what  I did.

That aside, I've felt a lot of anger, rebelliousness, and bitterness.  I'm surprised that I still go to church each week sometimes.  I've actually felt a lot less stress about life and my attractions in general.  I don't know if that's related to my general sense of apathy toward the church.  On the other hand, I've felt a better sense of connection toward my ward.  I don't feel as much shame being around the other elder's in the quorum.  I'm really excited about a new calling that I have to teach in the Elder's Quorum.

This morning, I also had a strange dream.  I was at some kind of part or gathering.  A man was speaking.  I remember I found him somewhat attractive and that he was a straight (opposite gender attraction) person.  I remember him stating that he didn't mind touching and holding men.  I remember feeling very drawn to that.  Mostly because it was something that I've felt cravings for in the past.  Some kind of safe, nonsexual connection with another man.  In the dream, I never mustered up the courage to go ask the man if he would be willing to hold me.

This song is about those prayers that come from the bitter, broken, or hurt places of people's lives and hearts.  I think it's a beautiful song, reminding me that Heavenly Father loves to hear about my misery as well as my joy.  He wants to hear about my heartache and what makes my heart whole.  In short, He wants to hear everything I have to say to Him, because He loves me.

Lyrics:

God loves a lullaby 
In a mother's tears in the dead of night 
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 
God loves the drunkard's cry, 
The soldiers plea not to let him die 
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah. 


The woman holding on for life, 
The dying man giving up the fight 
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes 
Tears of shame for what's been done, 
The silence when the words won't come 
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


Better than a church bell ringing, 
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
Better than a Hallelujah
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
[From http://www.klove.com/music/artists/amy-grant/songs/better-than-a-hallelujah-lyrics.aspx]

If You Only Knew

Just as a disclaimer, this post is more referring to my thoughts.  It isn't directed toward any one particular person.  In fact, it's more directed toward many different people.  Mostly, it's me just venting things that come on my mind that I feel like giving a voice.

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If you only knew what went on inside my head.  What if you knew that I was attracted to you?  What if you knew that my eyes tended to wander to you?  What if you knew that I liked how you look?  What would you do?  Would you shun me? Reject me? Be afraid and awkward around me?  How I wish at times that I could just touch you and not feel uncomfortable about it, to reach out and connect and not accuse myself of acting on lust.  You may never know how good it is to see you smile at me.  You may never know how I felt that time you randomly came up and rubbed my shoulder, or patted me on the back.  You may never know how enamored I became with you, or how secretly obsessed I became with you.  If you did know, would you still act the same around me?  What if you knew I wanted to hug you?  Or that I enjoyed the feel of your arms around me?

If you only knew, how I felt with you around.  How afraid I was because of the feelings I had for you.  Or how little I cared for what you were saying, or even for you.  How afraid I feel that you would found out how little I really cared for you.  Or how sad I was that we couldn't connect.  Or sometimes the wild fantasies I have with you in them.  Or how many times I wondered what you looked like without a shirt on.  Or how hesitant I am to spend time with you because of how attracted I feel for you.  Or how many times I questioned if I was trying to be my friend because I liked you or because I "liked" you.

If you only knew how I felt the last time I saw you.  The shock at seeing you, the grief, the fear, the rage.  How I watched you to avoid you.  How I felt the piercing anger of your glare.  How distraught I felt afterward.  How much seeing you remind me of my past and how manipulative I've been in the past and my fear that I continue to live and breathe the same lies that have cloaked from so early in my life.

If you only knew how misunderstood I felt, or the pain I've felt.  Or how many times I've let my unrealistic expectations get dashed.  Or how many times I haven't cared.  Or how many times I've cried over you, or over me wanting to connect with you.  Or how many times I've felt like shaking my fist at the heavens only to find the finger of blame to be pointing at me.

I don't know if I could ever explain in words how much it means when you contact me or talk to me.  The little inside jokes.  The ability to say and act how I feel is right.  Understanding when I feel down.  If you only knew how much more I wish I could spend time with you or talk to you.

If you only knew.

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Thanks for reading!