Truth Telling

So this post isn't a usual one.
I'm sitting at my desk after (praise the lord) finishing early, and Les Enfants are happily playing while La Mere does her thing.
I've been thinking a lot lately.
I don't know how, between all the amazing things I've been doing and all the amazing people I've been meeting.
But there has been something nagging, and for once I am struggling to put it into words.
And that scares me a little bit, because words are how I release things from the spiderweb of my brain into the outside world.
And being scared to write something is scary.
But I've met some really, truly, amazing people over the past couple of weeks and they have sparked something in me, a little hint of wisdom, a little push, the little nudge I needed.
I love that you guys read this: it makes me feel less alone in this big wide world of unfriendly people and darkening days as summer approaches fall and I'm uncomfortable. Writing this makes me comfortable.
So I think this is the best place to do this, to get this thing off my chest.
Because I can't live with biting hard down on my tongue anymore.
Pearl Harbour was a military strike by the Japanese that caused the US to enter into the Second World War.
My pearl harbour, my turning point, the catalytic event that caused everything else to follow like dominoes, was when I fell in love with her. The electricity that felt like no other and the satisfaction that came with knowing something so surely, so undoubtedly.
My Second World War was the resistance to my rebel soldiers who threatened to break everything I had and everything I wanted. They threatened to open me up to the rain that would surely fall, the tears of disapproval and the frays in the fabric that was a tapestry of the life I wanted so badly.
And my resistance fought hard.
They lied and they stole and they fought with everything they had to bury my rebels far beneath the surface, far beneath the deep dark ground.
And my intrinsic war is ending.
The relief that is felt when one permits themselves to feel absolute joy, love that had been kept buried for years and years and years, is indescribable.
And I'm doing my best to describe it.
It's like feeling incomplete, forcing yourself to love something you can't, forcing yourself to fit into a mold that your bones simply can't squeeze into. It's like begging on your knees to feel what they all do, and then suddenly realizing you've been feeling it for years.
It's like losing your keys and realizing they're in your pocket.
So if by now you still haven't seen the picture I've been struggling to create, I will say it simplified. Watered down, diluted to a simplicity far below its multifaceted intricacies. Because the wonder of humans is that we can think and feel emotions and change. And nothing will ever be black and white.
I've been forcing myself to be black or white for too long and I've come to accept the greyness that sometimes clouds around the edges of things like this.
So I will not attempt to restrict myself by forcing myself from one box into another.
But I will say this: the only time I have felt that impeccable clarity of absolute joy, the electricity of the rush brought by another's skin, it has been with a girl.
And if that makes me gay, if that makes it easier for you to understand, then that is what you need to do to simplify the grey, to outline the abstract. And that is okay. Just know that emotions are fluid and people are changeable.
I guess we're all still figuring it out.
And I guess I've figured a part of it out.
And I really needed to share that with you.
Because at the end of the day we're all in this together.
Now, please watch this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoL-MnXvK80