A Home At the End of the World

Twenty years is an extremely long time for anyone and for anything; the things that really matter, however, need time.  The best of us know this.  I guess I needed to take until the eve of the Mayan Apocalypse to come forward with the darkest, deepest I had; maybe I like drama, or perhaps the just the simple poetry of it all, but I certainly didn't plan it that way, no.  

It began with a question, "How much do you love me?" I asked, as the red wine swirled in my father's hands and their eyes slowly made their way over to me, expressions on their faces illegible through the veil of tears that easily formed.  It continued with a letter my mother took from me as I stretched my hand out to offer it, relinquishing that I wouldn't be able to make it through the whole thing if I had attempted to read it to them.  As I had her read it, my father sat still, contemplative, quiet.  The letter was an understated culmination of the collected thoughts, prayers, concerns, observations and confessions I had amassed all this time about this little aspect of me.  It held my very soul in its words and I hoped it came across that way, because in this singularly most difficult moment of my life thus far, and with every fiber of my being and ounce of energy I had left keeping myself together, I needed to stand by the words therein.  And it ended in quiet relief, disappointment, reflection, confusion, and finally acceptance and understanding.  I don't know if I had ever smiled that wide or breathed that deep in my life, but coming out to my parents gave me a second chance at not finally becoming what I wanted to be, but rather eventually becoming who i've always been.  The sadness they expressed in my confession to them was for the years I spent alone in this state of veiled darkness, carefully reminding me that they were still amazing parents, seeking to protect their child from a frightening, unpredictable world.  And though they admitted that the timing was perfect and that they may not have been ready for this in my youth, "nothing will ever change in our love for you," was their ultimate declaration, carefully setting the tone of my renewed relationship with my parents.

The world didn't end, and i stand here as the dust of my twenty-year long smokescreen settles and lays before me doors I'd never contemplated opening, and for the first time in a long time, I find myself having to be ok with not having a set plan; the calculating and thinking and guilt and constant worry finally found its end.  I didn't have to worry about the next step, and the step after that, and unfortunately for the longest time, steps even thereafter, for every minute, every moment.  I found out, after all the hype, questions, and lip service, and waiting through the moments that led to it, the world, in fact, didn't end.  When the time came, there was only peace.  Inevitable, unbelievable...peace.   Oh, and I guess that whole Mayan calendar thing was a washout too...

As the tears dry, I then ask myself, "what next?"  And I'm ok with not knowing.  And it has been so very lonely for a very long time being me.  I'm not lonely anymore, and I don't think I ever will be again.  And Charlie, I finally understand now how it is to feel infinite.  

Merry Christmas dear reader (if I in fact have any) and I hope for a moment this year, and for all the years, you've found some peace too.

Current Music: Adele - I Found A Boy

Earth-Shattering Revelation #32:  Know your worth and don't dare fall short of it in achievement or expectation.