As this year draws to a close, I find myself in deep reflection. One of the darkest chapters of my life unfolded in late 2012--losing my brother Matthew. I was hardly in a celebratory mood as we entered the new year. I spent nearly all of January in a black cloud; I hardly moved from my couch most days. Oh, I did my job. I took care of the most basic of things. I found a few things to complain about on this forum. But beyond that, I simply couldn't function. Sometime in February I admitted to a close friend that my life was a wreck. Things needed to change or I was not going to survive this loss. That's when things started to turn a little. I started going to the gym every day, a habit that one friend would later call a "crutch". I started to follow politics again, and began an inward search to discover the "real" me. One discovery? I was alienated from the LGBT community, and that separation was KILLING me.
Sometime in the spring, I started to take a close look at what was happening in my state capitol. The atrocious behavior of both our Governor and his party finally got me off my couch: I began to blog about the issues, and eventually participated in the Moral Monday demonstrations. It was there that I sensed my true place in this life: law. I decided to have a career in law, something that might not have happened had I not lost my brother.That's not to say I lacked the passion and interest before he died, but that I lacked the courage or even the will to try in the first place.
During the summer months, a season I generally loathe, I connected with J. Oh, we have always known each other, it turns out...at least we have since I moved to NC. But we didn't really KNOW each other. That changed this summer. I am not sure why, but I guess this was just our time. Our year. I fell in love with J, a process that turned what remained of my old life upside down. It threw the proverbial wrench into her life as well...
So here I am, one year out from one of the worst days of my life. The life I have today is unrecognizable from the one I lived on the afternoon of December 7th, 2012, just hours before my phone would ring with heartbreaking news. I did not know it then, but my life ended that day, too. The relationship, the home, even the person I had become, all fell apart that day. One year later, I stand in a very different place. I have new career ambitions, I am with the person I always dreamed of being with, and I am making a new home for myself. I am different physically, and for the first time, I can truly say that I am happy. I have new dreams, too: I want to share my life with J, and eventually have a child with her. I want to get serious about both my writing and my artwork. But most of all, I want to make the most of every day I have. I don't want to squander the gifts my brother gave me upon his death. I know what it means to love and to be loved, and I want to live a life that radiates that.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Grace will suffice, eh?
It's been awhile since I last complained about an idiotic church sign. Rest assured, I see plenty. However, due to my love-induced fog, I am more likely to let things go these days than I would have previously. Not this:
"God's grace is sufficient"
Really? Grace is defined as the "free and unmerited favor of God". I think that sounds quite lovely, but it is hardly pragmatic. If someone is hungry, it means nothing to have God's favor if that affection doesn't translate into an actual meal. You might argue that having God's favor guarantees that one will always have their needs met, but that is hardly the case. I see need everywhere, and due to the very nature of God's grace--that it is in fact free and unmerited--I have to assume that every person has God's favor. Yet those people clearly have not had their needs met, therefore, God's grace is not sufficient. Instead of oversimplifying God's love for us, we should show our gratitude for that love by meeting the needs of those around us. Only then will God's love truly be sufficient.
When memories reveal a truth you don't like...
This, naturally, is not the typical realization one has. J herself has been in love, and subsequently heartbroken, on more than one occasion. I have no frame of reference for such things, because my sorrow over losing past "loves" nearly always involved what I was losing in terms of physical or emotional gratification, not the actual person herself (or himself, as the case may be). I feel pretty terrible as a result of this realization. Not only is it embarrassing to come this far in life without being able to say I've had the experience of truly loving another individual, but at times I feel emotionally ill-equipped to handle the demands, and grown up aspects, of a truly romantic relationship. As a result, there are multiple misunderstandings and deeply hurt feelings on a pretty regular basis. I know it is not unusual for Aspies to say they have never been in love. I also know that a deep connection with another individual is possible for an Aspie, but it takes the right person to make that happen. Without question, J is that person for me.
And that leaves me with quite a bit of work. Not only must I overcome my insecurities, handicaps, and general anti-social tendencies (for it is much easier for me to simply be alone and, quite frankly, be miserable) but I must also continue to stretch myself. I must participate in the tending of our relationship, lest we lose this incredible gift we've been given.
A final thought on the difficultly of falling in love with the right person, or simply falling in love period: my wise friend Laura pointed out that it's actually very difficult to find someone to love. If it weren't, she says, then everyone would be in love and the world would be a much better place. Indeed.
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