I Bid Adieu To Some Of You (And To Others, I Say Hello)

Merely saying what I'm about to say will most likely cause some, most, or all, of my current "readers" to leave me. The reason is that what I'm about to say is a touchy and rather controversial subject. Before continuing, I would like you (the reader, whoever you may be) to take a moment to say to yourself, "I'm reading this guy's blog because he wrote something interesting that I want to read". And remember that. Of course, this may be the first post that you read of mine, and if that's the case, I might scare you off. But for others, I want you to know that although I may try, nothing I can say can really change your mind about anything. You have to do that yourself. I think, perhaps, that humanity was conditioned to be prejudiced, unforgiving, and intolerant (I know that I'm intolerant... but I'm only intolerant of careless slobs who have every capability of cleaning up after themselves but don't), and if this is the case, then those who can feel empathy must do so, and try to imagine what it could be like to be someone else, anyone else.

Something that gets under my skin is when people I know, or even people I don't know, put themselves and their goals first, before giving a thought to the nameless people around them. On the subway, people push in front of others to get on the train first, so that they might not have to wait an extra minute for the next one. When I'm with my family, and my sister stands on the left side of the escalator instead of the right, thereby preventing people from walking down at a quicker pace, I pull her to the side, only to receive admonishment from my mother, who tells me that I have a tendency to make sure that people I don't know at all are comfortable, at the expense of the people I'm closest to. This may be, but you don't get anywhere, whether it be with close friends and relatives, or people you've barely (or never) met, by not giving consideration to those that you merely see in passing.

The night I saw Spamalot, my family sat in row F, in the stalls, directly in front of a group of little kids with their mothers. The eldest (who happened to be the only girl) couldn't have been more than 8, and that's pushing it. The boys were all much younger. When my family sat down, one of them said that they couldn't see, and his mother tried to rearrange them. The problem was that in their row, the little kids were sitting to the left, and in my row, my parents were sitting to the left. Big people in front of little people. I told my mother and father to switch with my sister and I so that the little kids could see, and it would have been fine if my mother hadn't decided to move one seat to the right, rather than actually swap with my sister and I. I asked the girl, who was sitting behind me, if she could see, and she said yes, but I couldn't help wondering if the boy behind my mother could see.
After the intermission, I made sure that my sister and I sat to the far left, in front of the little ones, so that my parents would be in front of their mothers. Unfortunately for me, there were two big-headed old folks in front of me that impeded my view, especially since I was slouching down in the chair. The reason for my slouching was so that the tiny little boy behind me would be able to get the most out of the show. I know how it is for some large head to get in the way of my enjoyment of a show, and I didn't want to make that kid suffer for something that I could easily have remedied.

This may sound like a big "look at me, I'm so caring and respectful and I always put others first" type of thing, but it's not. Honestly, I don't always put others first (usually that means my sister, or my parents). I'm just trying to impress on you that, as a person in a place of power or influence, whenever it may be (and it may not be all the time), try your best to understand what might be going on for that other person, who may not be able to quickly divert a problem that's coming for them. Have Sympathy

Now that I've put you through that, hopefully with some positive affect, I'll tell you what I meant to say in writing this post.

Since I was... 12 or 13, I realised that I was quite different from my friends. (You may be able to see where this is going). In fact, by the time I was nearing the age of 14, I had told myself quite plainly what it was that I am. However, it didn't really mean anything (I can see now) as long as I was the only one who knew. Now, I am naturally a very self-sustaining person. Most things I can figure out myself, or otherwise teach myself to understand (outside of school, of course. I would never get anywhere trying to teach myself geometry or French). I can live by myself for days on end (yes, it would be boring, but I wouldn't even begin to go crazy from lack of company). As you can probably imagine, keeping a secret that only I know couldn't be that hard. What was hard, was telling someone else.
I finally decided that, at the Coronation Ball (the first dance of the year where the Homecoming Queen and Princesses are announced), I would take my best friend, a girl who I met way back when I was 10. The dance was okay, nothing special. I was pressured to dance several times, many of those times from Gracie, the friend that I took to Coro. Dancing just isn't my thing.
At around 2200, I think, I pulled Gracie off the dance floor and out onto the front lawn of the mansion where the dance was held. A good distance from anyone else, I told her what I'm about to tell you.
That I'm gay.
It was really hard to tell her, of course, me being the solitary that I am. Now, more than a month after that, I really couldn't be happier that she knows. Not keeping that secret is probably the most important thing that I've done in my life so far. She took it very well, like a true friend (how cheesy that sounds... how about... "like a true companion"? Yes, that sounds better). She's stood by my side, keeping my silence, and letting me be who I am. Not freaking out or condemning me to hell or breaking off our friendship proved her to be the amazing person that she is.
Of course, this all leads back to me saying that everyone needs to have sympathy, and, if possible (because I know that it really isn't for some) empathy. I am in a position where I can say that prejudice and antipathy are painful and completely out-dated. Or, at least, they should be.