Okay, I just have to post something to my blog to get rid of the melodramatic title on the last one. I told my wife about spending the night with Tom. (Not the details, just the fact of it.) She was surprised, but I think more taken aback by the reality that I might not be married to her until death do us part.
She is obviously making a real effort to be loving and accommodating and I haven't strayed. (Tom left town about a month later, although I continued to meet him for coffee a couple of times a week until he left.) Still, I'm coming to the realization that I can't spend the rest of my life like this without feeling cowardly and pathetic. I know it is depression speaking, but I feel that if I don't try to salvage some self-respect and honesty in my life, it will have been a pretty poor excuse for a life.
I was going to quote Thoreau here, so I went back to "Walden" to look for the exact line. What jumped out at me was the line after the one I remembered:
"I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary." Thoreau is an inspiration and his words have a simple truth to them that wipes away an enormous amount of cultural crap. However, they are words for a young man (or woman) and adventure and experimentation are easier when you are single and you have a lifetime to recover.
Over the summer I told another friend that I was gay. He was surprised, but not at all discomforted. Our friendship hasn't change a bit. A month ago, my oldest friend in the world died of cancer. He was quite homophobic, although he had mellowed in many ways in later years. He was one of the people I really dreaded telling. I keep coming back to the question, what's the point in telling people if I'm not going to do anything about it? It's like "Oh, by the way, I thought you might like to know that I'm a pathetic closet case." Except for my father, I've told all the people whose reaction I really care about. The rest of them, if they don't stay my friend, I'll survive.
Resignation is a garment that has not worn well on me and it's time to discard it. (Thoreau would have liked that sentence.)
She is obviously making a real effort to be loving and accommodating and I haven't strayed. (Tom left town about a month later, although I continued to meet him for coffee a couple of times a week until he left.) Still, I'm coming to the realization that I can't spend the rest of my life like this without feeling cowardly and pathetic. I know it is depression speaking, but I feel that if I don't try to salvage some self-respect and honesty in my life, it will have been a pretty poor excuse for a life.
I was going to quote Thoreau here, so I went back to "Walden" to look for the exact line. What jumped out at me was the line after the one I remembered:
"I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary." Thoreau is an inspiration and his words have a simple truth to them that wipes away an enormous amount of cultural crap. However, they are words for a young man (or woman) and adventure and experimentation are easier when you are single and you have a lifetime to recover.
Over the summer I told another friend that I was gay. He was surprised, but not at all discomforted. Our friendship hasn't change a bit. A month ago, my oldest friend in the world died of cancer. He was quite homophobic, although he had mellowed in many ways in later years. He was one of the people I really dreaded telling. I keep coming back to the question, what's the point in telling people if I'm not going to do anything about it? It's like "Oh, by the way, I thought you might like to know that I'm a pathetic closet case." Except for my father, I've told all the people whose reaction I really care about. The rest of them, if they don't stay my friend, I'll survive.
Resignation is a garment that has not worn well on me and it's time to discard it. (Thoreau would have liked that sentence.)