43. wheat

From Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince:

* * *

IT WAS THEN that the fox appeared.

“Good morning,” said the fox.

“Good morning,” the little prince answered politely, though when he turned he saw nothing.

“I’m here,” the voice said, “under the apple tree.”

“Who are you?” the little prince asked. “You’re very pretty . . .”

“I’m a fox,” the fox said.

“Come and play with me,” the little prince proposed. “I’m feeling so sad.”

“I can’t play with you,” the fox said. “I’m not tamed.”

“Ah! Excuse me,” said the little prince. But upon reflection he added, “What does tamed mean?”

“It means something that’s been too often neglected. It means, ‘to create ties’ . . .”

“To create ties?”

“That’s right,” the fox said. “For me you’re only a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me, either. For you I’m only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we’ll need each other. You’ll be the only boy in the world for me. I’ll be the only fox in the world for you . . .

“My life is monotonous. I hunt chickens; people hunt me. All chickens are just alive, and all men are just alike. So I’m rather bored. But if you tame me, my life will be filled with sunshine. I’ll know the sound of footsteps that will be different from all the rest. Other footsteps send me back underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like music. And then, look! You see the wheat fields over there? I don’t eat bread. For me wheat is of no use whatsoever. Wheat fields say nothing to me. Which is sad. But you have hair the colour of gold. So it will be wonderful once you’ve tamed me! The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I’ll love the sound of the wind in the wheat . . .”

The fox fell silent and stared at the little prince for a long while. “Please . . . tame me!” he said.

“What do I have to do?” asked the little prince.

“You have to be very patient,” the fox answered. “First you’ll sit down a little ways away from me, over there, in the grass. I’ll watch you out of the corner of my eye, and you won’t say anything. Language is the source of misunderstandings. But day by day, you’ll be able to sit a little closer . . .”

---

That was how the little prince tamed the fox. And when the time to leave was near:”Ah!” the fox said. “I shall weep.”

“It’s your own fault,” the little prince said. “I never wanted to do you any harm, but you insisted that I tame you . . . ”

“Yes, of course,” the fox said.

“But you’re going to weep!” said the little prince.

“Yes, of course,” the fox said.

“Then you get nothing out of it?”

“I get something,” the fox said, “because of the colour of wheat.”

---

“People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said. “But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.”

42. vexed

You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him who I so earnestly desired not to meet. That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all of England. I did not then see what is not the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape. The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.
– C.S. Lewis, “Surprised By Joy”

---

I had a long-ish chat with a guy tonight from Texas from that same site. Another nice guy, this one Catholic, and again, not my type. Nor is he looking for romantic partnership at this point in his life. But it puts in me this fear that there aren’t any non-effeminate Christian guys out there who aren’t already taken; who value intellect as much as I do; who are comfortable with their sexuality and see it as compatible with their faith; and know where they’re going in life (i.e., have it mostly together) and are interested in someone to truly share a life with.

I’m just feeling like I’m never going to find what I’m looking for. I don’t want to be 35, single, dating, knocking on doors and either getting turned down or not finding what it is that I’m looking for, and I’m feeling so down and discouraged right now. I want to either not care and ditch my morals, or somehow develop fortitude and wait. Neither is making me happy at this point.

I want a Joy (C.S. Lewis’ wife), a man who understands me, and who I understand; who gets how I think, and doesn’t just tolerate me; someone who can make me, like he said of Joy, look like a fool, because he’s smart and calls me on the stupid shit that I say and do.

Here it is: I’m afraid there isn’t anyone good enough for me. That’s an incredibly haughty and arrogant thing to say because implicit in that statement is the idea that I’m all that great of a catch. But I’m afraid there isn’t anyone masculine enough, intelligent enough, or interesting enough. My date last night could barely hold a conversation about C.S. Lewis outside of the first three books of the Chronicles of Narnia, let alone his other books (including the non-fiction stuff).

I feel conflicted about that because I fear this image of l’homme idéal will get in the way of any future possible relationships. Is it so much to ask that he’s well-read, well-spoken, attractive, has a wide variety of interests, and most importantly loves God and can articulate his faith? I’m just afraid I’ll never find anyone like that before I’m thirty, and damn it, I can’t take another year of being alone. I just can’t. I’m going to end up an awful, alcoholic mess of a jaded bastard, and it seems unavoidable at this point. My standards are set so insanely high that there seems to be no one else. I’m trying so hard not to extrapolate the whole population of gay men from a single piece of fairy cake, but it just seems hopeless.

So why am I still single? Yes, I haven’t been dating all that long, but I seem to want that which does not exist. I want a Christian gay man who has not been beaten down by Christians or his own doubt and fear and has a faith that is thriving; doesn’t come with baggage that weighs him down or defines him; and basically appears as a normal guy to the outside world, like myself. Perhaps that comes back to the desire for someone to just understand and relate to me; because I feel like no one does.

Herein lies the paradox. John Donne would revel in it. I would revel in it, if he wrote a poem about it; of the seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against me finding anyone who is even remotely compatible for me.

Oh little self that walls itself within
This cage of thine own making and despair,
Resign thyself to vigor or forbear
For thou art not of ilk to bend to sin.
The bars of thy design hath been, yet bear
The imprint of Divine conspiracy
That deigns for good and ever seeks to spare
The heart from useless ill, and courtesy
Of that degree we seldom show or see
From fellow man, for he can only will
Our happiness or pleasure. Oh! to be
A beast that finds contentment in its fill!
By condescending mercy am I mired,
And standards unattainable conspired.

It’s not quite Donne, but it’ll do.

W.C. Fields observed that “comedy is tragedy happening to someone else.”

Happy Monday.

41. deschutes

For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. – 2 Corinthians 4:6-10 (NASB)

I went on my first, official, declared date as a gay man tonight. Met him, of all places (surprise, surprise) online, on OkCupid, one of the more reputable places for such sordid activities. The guys there seem less interested in just random hook-ups and more in finding something long-term. Of course there are always those trolls, but so far they’ve seemed of a better ilk there.

… so soon, so soon,
And the crows they swoon
At the two red holes
In his right side, oh…

So my date tonight was a 30-year-old guy from the southwestern suburbs. We’ve been emailing and texting for the last couple of days, and we both had free-time tonight and decided to meet up, mainly to imagine the possibility of dating together. I think we both went into it with few expectations other than to see if we were at all compatible, and that’s pretty much how it went. He was cute, and a nice guy, but it was clear from the beginning that he was just too effeminate for me. (The really creepy thing is that he reminds me a lot of my sister’s husband.) He has a lot of baggage from past relationships, doesn’t have a clear direction on where he wants to go in life; and an top of that, he didn’t know who Douglas Adams was, hadn’t read much C.S. Lewis, and in general wasn’t the intellectual or spiritual package I’m looking for in a guy. He was a music major and is into musical theatre, so we ended up talking for about five hours, but that’s probably as far as this is going to go. And then I ended up giving his car a jump because the battery was dead!

So we keep looking, try not to think about the fact that I’m terrified that every guy I date is going to be like this, and that he is out there. Somewhere.

Does anyone know how to make a Bat-Signal for masculine (i.e., “straight-acting”) Christian gay men?

… it’s gonna take a long, long time
But we’re gonna make something so fine…

Listening to Laura Viers new album right now and absolutely loving it. I actually got it a couple months back, way before the actual public release, when she opened for The Decemberists late last fall, and fell in love with her songs. Her lyrics are pretty great. Here’s one of my favourites:

July Flame
Sweet summer peach
High up in the branch
Just out of my reach

Can I call you mine?
Can I call you mine?

July Flame
I’m seeing fireworks
They’re so beautiful
Tell me why it hurts

40. audacity

What is it about men that makes them think that, out of all possible mates, they’d be the ideal match or lover for another person?

I ask this because all of a sudden, for the first time, I’ve caught myself thinking like that. Not necessarily the cocky, arrogant frat boy type attitude; but I’m looking at someone and thinking, “Yeah, I could make him happy.” And I want to. I wouldn’t necessarily fulfill all his dreams and desires (no one’s that good), but I’d like to think that being with me would be somewhere on the way to hitting that mark.

Is that just sheer audacity? Or desperate hope?

I don’t know. What I do know is that I just turned 27.

By 28, I’m not going to still be single.

Case in point, this is what I’m talking about:

… I just think you need time to know
That I’m the guy to make it real:
The feelings you don’t dare to feel.
I’ll bend the world to our will,
And we’ll make Time stand still.

 

… now that’s audacity.

39b. freeze ray

The Total Perspective Vortex derives its picture of the whole Universe on the principle of extrapolated matter analyses.

To explain—since every piece of matter in the Universe is in some way affected by every other piece of matter in the Universe, it is in theory possible to extrapolate the whole of creation—every sun, every planet, their orbits, their composition, and their economic and social history from, say, one small piece of fairy cake.

— Douglas Adams, The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe

Moping ahead, FYI.

Has it really been this long between updates?

Basically, right now I’m despairing and reeling from a bit of a crushing disappointment. I met up with the friend of a friend of mine who happens to be gay, Christian, going to seminary, and loves Jesus. A few weeks ago he came out to his fundamentalist parents, and the conversation didn’t go so well; so I was curious about how he was doing, and if I could be of any help. Turns out he’s one of the most level-headed guys I’ve ever met: humble, adorable, and almost everything I could have imagined in finding a guy.

Oh yeah—and gorgeous blue eyes. Gorgeous. (Did I mention that he loves Jesus?)

So we did coffee on Saturday for about four hours, then went to Solomon’s Porch on Sunday evening, and went out to Pizza Lucé afterwards to talk about the sermon.

… and in the process defined our relationship. Well, rather, I went balls out and laid everything out on the table: not something I’m used to doing. No expectations; certainly a level of hope that he might possibly feel the same way. It was one of those all-or-nothing moments, and I just wanted to know if he felt anything for me at all beyond friendship.

He was very flattered, and very nice about it, but he said he’s not interested in me romantically. We had a relatively long talk about it, and came to an understanding, and I’m as okay with it as can be.

Still, I’m feeling rather… down. This is the second guy in a row who’s not been interested in me, and everyone keeps saying that I’m this great, amazing guy; and at least this one had the decency to tell me to my face (because I asked) and not let me be led on; but no one’s interested. And yes, I’ve only been on three dates in the year and a half that I’ve been out, but I still can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Emily and I had a long talk about this last night, and then with Justin this afternoon: both of them assured me that isn’t true. So even if I’m some sort of unicorn, I’m still alone.

Perhaps my standards are too high. I am expecting a lot from one person (speaking of unicorns). But of course they’re high, because I take this quite seriously—and this is my future. Our future. And I’m not looking to date “casually” (ye gods, I hate that term).

The thing that sucks most about this is that I could do the club scene if I wanted to. I could be getting laid every night, but I won’t because that’s not me. My fucking morals get in the way, and we both know that playing the slut and having wild, crazy sex wouldn’t make me happy in the end. So I’m taking the high ground and am still miserable. In the end, I may be right, but no less alone.

I do know that the # 1 thing I’m looking for in a guy is that he loves Jesus, can articulate why, and has reconciled his sexuality and his faith to a degree where ten years down the road he won’t suddenly realise that being gay is wrong and leave me. That is a deal breaker. Even if he’s the most amazing guy in the world, if we can’t agree that Jesus is everything, we’re not going to be able to agree on anything else. Yes, that’s a massive generalisation, but when it comes down to it, that’s got to be central.

Because the fact is that I’m a progressive fundamentalist, proud of it, and I take Scripture and its place in my life very seriously. So as I said to a friend of mine at work this afternoon, if he loves Jesus (in a serious way, not in a “Jesus is my friend” way), everything else will fall into place because our priorities align.

I’m saying this knowing that such a man is probably rare, and my chances of actually finding one are about as good as getting struck by lightning three times in the same day. I’m not too hopeful or optimistic, but trying not to be bitter and jaded. No one wants chewy snickerdoodles. However, with each new rejection, all my fears and insecurities are being reinforced and confirmed, and I’m finding myself less willing to be generous, and more guarded with my heart and affections. Even this time around, being open-minded and trying to not have any expectations, I still got my heart stomped. Not intentionally, but it still happened.

Again, I’m trying not to have expectations going into this—dating, and all. There are some general things that I’m looking for, of course, besides the spiritual aspects. As a male, attractiveness is sort of a presumed quality. And some of us get a lot of flack for it, but I’m definitely looking for a masculine, non-effeminate guy. While he doesn’t need to be built and muscular, I am attracted to slimmer, trimmer guys. Toned is a plus, but not essential. An average build would be acceptable, but let’s be honest (and this is a very crude analogy so bear with me), it’s like buying furniture—first you have to imagine it being around for a while before committing to it. He’ll have to do the same with me. I’m picturing having sex with this person (and lots of it), but also waking up, going to sleep, eating, arguing and travelling with him. And some of that will happen over time as I get to know him.

On the positive side, one of the good things that’s come out of this is that in actually contemplating being with someone, I would be willing to adopt children and raise a family with the right guy; and those of you who know me know how I feel about kids, and how radical a statement that is.

I might have said this before, but I wouldn’t need to work as much as I do. The craziness of my life is largely a placebo to fill the empty void-chunks that remind me that I’m a miserable, lonely guy. And it would be nice to be able to pour time into someone rather than something. Sure, I’ve accomplished lots in the last five years, but I also want be known for being a good boyfriend.

It also made me realise that I do want to get married, regardless of whether or not it’s legal and recognised by the time we get to that point. I’m kind of old fashioned, and want to formally commit to one guy (even though the sex part might not be attached to any sort of ceremony). It would certainly be weird having my family there, if they decided to come at all. But hell, I’ve had to watch my sister kiss her husband, so they can damn well do the same for me.

But moral of the story is, via extrapolated matter analyses from a piece of fairy cake, I’ve determined that since I haven’t found the right guy at 27 that it won’t happen at all, because the statistical likelihood of actually finding what I want is pretty low. And the one guy I did find who seems absolutely perfect isn’t interested in me in that way.

So I’m sort of getting a bit of my own from when I broke up with my first boyfriend. Now the glove is on the other hand. And it hurts like a banshee, man.

In conclusion, it should be noted that I’m not giving up entirely on seminary guy (but in a non-creepy, wait and see way). I am kind of an acquired taste. Maybe over the next few months, if he doesn’t start dating someone else, I can win him over with the charms I’m going to acquire over the next few months. Maybe I could try singing some Dr. Horrible to him sometime…

I just think you need time to know
That I’m the guy to make it real
The feelings you don’t dare to feel
I’ll bend the world to our will
And we’ll make time stand still
That’s the plan
Rule the world
You and me
Any day
Love your hair

Happy Birthday to me.