Beauty in Sadness

Nothing makes you feel so small and helpless, than seeing someone you care about cry.

Nothing cuts you to the core than seeing someone so strong and proud, drop the curtain on their heart, and let you see there pain. To have so much pride striped away, choking back tears. Not wanting you to see this side of themselves. To see that they too, are as frail and imperfect as the rest of us.

And nothing is more humbling then a friend feeling that safe about you, to open up that wound in your presence.

And thats the true beauty in sadness.

The Gayness Show

Way back in my early twenties, I was seeing this girl and we'd go out quite a bit and do things like see movies and stuff.

It was quite nice and we'd talk and talk for hours. And I thought, zounds! (well, I didn't actually say that, but you get the gist, right?), We sure do get along afully swell together! (I might have actually said that, I am a dork). And I was thinking, she's comfortable with me as well.....

Talking about the troubles with her boyfriend she's seeing on and off. Yeah. Nice.

But wait a sec, If she's enjoying her time with me, and we do have a fantastic time, well, she must like me, right?

And this is where I realized something I've never phantomed before. Why I always seem to be the best-est guy friend of all these fantastic girls over the years. The one 'buddy" thay they always feel so comfortable with discussing things tou wouldn't just tell anyone. I used to thing perhaps, I exuded this aura of trust, and maybe a bit of pine tar for freshness.

The big hint was taking Rose to a movie. We were having a seat in the desired center rows and I was leaning in closer to her as she spoke. The movie was about to start when she said something about having something to eat afterwards.

I smiled at her, and said "I'm game!"

...And the most odd look came over her face as she looked at me with a cocked eyebrow of puzzlement. I then got my answer on how I am percieved.

"You're gay?!"

It was dead silent as the lights went down and all I saw before the blackness was all thses heads swiveling about to see the guy who just aparently "came out of the closet" as the movie preshow. I was speachless.

so THATS why she hung out with me! She was so ready to see I was gay!

Frustration

I'm beginning to think strokes are very frustrating. First the unable to walk and speak annoyance, then all the hubub of trying to cultivate replacement brain cells to fix all that. You'd think whatever "higher power" would make this easier. Okay, I get it: damnation upon my heathen soul. Remove my motor skills, my eyesight, my vocal range, my talent, just to make me fear the thought of a "caring" mystical spirit. Not the way I'd go about it, but i'm not all powerful, apparently.

If anything, I've seen my own strength grow. And then I have to hear people say to me, I've been "blessed" to have been given the chance to see this within myself. Praise God, or whomever for his (or her) love. All I can think of is, "thanks for giving me no credit on my resolve

EDIT: Talk about irony. This post was originally almost three pages long with tons of insightful information of my philosophy, theology, and the hell of applying for Social disability. I also commented on why I haven't done my You tube vids yet, and how hard it is to write all this, with brakes and finger tapping. I post it, and then find out all but two paragraphs remain. Frustration.

I don't even have much hope that this edit will show right now...

Hope you're having a better day than I.