ALL HISTORY IS BUT A WORK OF FICTION….

A quote that I saw today and realized that it is true in the case of you and me. We each see our history as truth to us, yet it is seen from our unique perspectives.  And since these perspectives are unique to each of our personalities, we each see it differently.

For instance; you see our meeting, our talking, our experiencing one another with delight and intrigue, opening up to one another as a flower opens to the early morning dew, taking solace in the fact that we could seek the source of where we met, could call, could email, and the other would be there… as a disturbance of your well balanced, ordered, and clear conscience of a life.  Suddenly your equilibrium was thrown out of kilter by emotions that were taboo in a world where white is white and black is black, like a person with inner ear infection, unbalanced and akimbo. The melding of the two into gray made things look dirty and sullied, and you squirmed, you battled with conscience, your usually pristine perception of right and wrong in constant struggle with your desire for something you had felt all along was a part of what was black. 

And, in the battle, you were wounded.  The pleasure you took from my company, instead of being a catalyst to make you a more rounded person, a man who has seen two sides of a coin, experienced them and become a fuller, more loving man to be with, became an instrument of torture that you used to castigate and chide your sensitivities into a frenzy of guilt and remorse.  Facing those you loved, from day to day, made you feel as though you were betraying a trust, dividing loyalties and therefore, making you less of a man.

Yet, my perception of this experience in our history has a different perspective.  Yes, I have been taught all of my life that stolen intimacy is not conducive to the teachings that we hold dear, that to embrace the love of another, who is tied by a covenant and a promise, is not to be done, as it is disloyal to those who have received said promise from me.  Yet, I have seen the betrayal by those same people who were supposedly the elders and leaders of the teachings I was brought up to believe.  I have seen men and women hide skeletons in their own closets, while turning out fabrications against others in order to keep their secrets well hidden and their faces from showing their own shame. 

I have seen those who have stood in pulpits, churning out fancy sermons and inspiring teachings, supposedly setting an example before those of us who were following in their footsteps, fall at the briefest suggestion of temptation, blowing to smithereens, the glass castle built for them in my imagination.  Fingers have pointed, words have been spoken, daggers jabbed into the side of those only guilty of trying to find joy in a moment, bringing out blood, sweat and tears to mix with the blood of other innocent victims they have slain in like manner, over and over again.

Thus, over the years, what started out as the same sensible set of rules, the black and white of actions right and wrong, slowly but surely turned in my mind, to one who has learned to believe that surely a God who has blessed me with such a friend, could not be the same God who will at one and the same time, strike me for said love being reciprocated.  I have felt his love in my pursuit of happiness outside of the realm of the norm.  I have known, that although he may grieve at my unusual methods of showing him love in return, that when I found the love my soul so needed, in you, whom he brought into my life, that he would no longer frown, but smile, for he said that his joy would be my strength, and in given you to me, it truly is. 

 In you I see all that is good and true, and know that this world I have perceived as wicked and disgusting, perverted and wrong, still has its counterpart in men who still hold fast to old-fashioned values.  In our company, I see a liberation and freedom from man made rules and regulations, for in our delight and thrill with one another, we are learning to be better people for the ones we love, having received that with which to fill our cups and therefore, overflow to those around us.  When I come from your presence I feel that I can again face the world, for my resolve and esteem has been bolstered, my sense of self has been increased, and my talents, being lauded, are in a position to be used to help others along the way, and shine with a light, cleansing in its intensity. 

I feel that by helping me, and receiving that which you need to fill that void, you can fill the void in those you love, from experience and wisdom, which only comes from first hand experience.  It is as a fledgling doctor who has received honors and flying colors in the academic field, only truly knowing what it is like to achieve his goal by actually pulling a soul from the throes of death.  In pulling me from the fire and breathing new life into me, you are doing a favor to this hypocritical society, which only points fingers to others, and sees the rules differently when it comes to its own actions.

Therefore, to sum this all up: What is the truth?  Have our actions been sordid or therapeutic, have our smiles been from stolen moments or from hearts that have been overwhelmed by joy so intense that we cannot but praise the God of all joy for bringing it to us to enjoy?  Have we learned to close ourselves off, so that no one can see where our true thoughts are leading us, or, do these thoughts lead us in turn to be as the other of us has been to us? (Oh, I have; life is so much more tolerable, and I can spread so much more joy for having been with you!) 

Which is true?  That we are wicked or that life is sweet, offering another chance of love and acceptance, as you said, unconditionally? 

In my case, I read your email, I considered what you said, and have come to the conclusion that what we have is not a scab, but a living, moving, breathing thing, that brings life, laughter and joy.  And I think, that without it, each of us will walk around as half a person.  I urge you to consider that you are not a wicked man, but a wonderful, caring, loving person that you have always been, and that you have been sent as a redeeming angel into a life that was destined for depravity and irreparable damage, resulting in self destruction.  I am sure that if you reconsider, you will realize that loving me makes you a better person, and that you have more to share, and not less…

This is my perception of history, from August 22, 2007 until now.  Can it be so jaded or can you see it my way?

Read and comment but ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies.