It Gets Better

There is no truth greater than the truth that Life Gets Better.



Gay high school students are more likely than any other demographic to attempt, and succeed at, committing suicide. I tried, and I failed. And my life is infinitely better for it.

An almost story about being in somebody else's underwear.

I've spent the last couple of weeks looking into some graduate school opportunities. For some reason I can't justify leaving Regina without it being driven by the need for more education - despite the fact that I feel exhausted the moment I see its golden lights on the distant horizon every time I drive home.

I'm thinking Vancouver. Is it safe to assume that a community that has existed for longer can offer me something that Regina can't? Or that I refuse to allow Regina to?

My friend, who is far far more well connected than I, says that she can't even think of anybody she could set me up with...


That said, my long underwear is now out of the cupboard. I am currently wearing it. And I am loving it. Its been cold here in southern Saskatchewan all September - which is unfortunate for the park's visitor numbers, and for me as I am not living in a winterized home. We've already hit the negative double digits in the night - my fleece was not sufficient to keep me warm.

The first night it was really cold, I didn't have any in Val Marie.

Aaron lent me his.

It is a good man who will lend his gay friend his long underwear.

Those heterosexual missionaries...

Last night Aaron and I went for a walk in the Grasslands. We looked at the stars. I pointed out a few planets, some stars, ancient constellations. Found a galaxy with the naked eye.

He asked me questions about what its like being gay.

I asked him what it was like being straight.

He told me about his loneliness. I told him of mine.

He told me I deserved somebody special. I told him the same.

Just a classic conversation between friends who are getting ready to say goodbye.

I realized that somehow, as a product of some completely unlikely friendship between two people who have no reason to have met, I was talking about being gay in Val Marie. I was honestly talking about the struggles of being a young gay man in Val Marie. Somebody was actually listening to me. It wasn't while I was alone. I wasn't silently crying in my bedroom, or looking for serious emotional support. I was talking about who I am - and I was helping him discover what a gay man can be.

I was happy; almost proud of who I was.

And I woke up this morning with a smile.

That simple conversation changed how I exist on this planet of Val Marie.

I wonder if he knows that...

So I asked him

- Do you have any idea what your eyes do to me?

And he answered

- Yes. I've known for a long time.

So I asked him

- Why do you still let me look into them then?

And he answered

- Why do you let me look into yours?



I don't know yet if that is the end of that conversation.

Story of my life...

In the imaginary world of dualities conveniently constructed in a westernized culture rooted in a religious understanding of our environment which views the world as either good or evil (and nothing else), I am choosing to psycho analyze myself.

There are two parts of my mind.

One being the carnal, ravenous, incredibly sexual being. The other being the innocent, cautious, and frighteningly romantic creature.

Generally speaking, I imagine that the former is in control.

But there are four people in the world around whom I have to consciously put effort into not wrapping my arms around (likely the lower waist), kissing, pushing against a wall or couch, discovering, and imagining ways that we could continue to grow comfortable with each other.

One of them is a person in Val Marie, who is researching an endangered butterfly we have in Grasslands National Park called the Mormon Metalmark (don't get me started on the controversy of calling it an endangered species, I am more likely to side with the skeptics than otherwise).

His name is Aaron.

He is 30. Has incredibly sharp canine teeth.

Beautiful eyes.

He is here for three more weeks.

And I cannot possibly allow myself to get physically close to him when we are anywhere near alone, because I am certain that if that is so I may just lose control and flirt a bit too much. I am concerned that he may flirt back without realizing he was flirting back (a throwback to his younger days of boyhood fun, more than anything else I assume), and I would catch myself falling in love with him even more.

Time to work on making myself distant from those people that I want to spend time getting to know.

Again...