I got a few minutes to blog.... Not much, but, well, you know. Do what you can...
Things happen so fast, in real life and in SL. It seems that when I have an opportunity to sit down to do what I want, there's an interruption of some sort of emergency. And what happens? what has to sacrifice? More often than not, it's my own desires that I sacrifice. Does it look like I'm not busy? Does it look like I'm doing nothing? Am I needed that badly that I can't even gather my thoughts for a few seconds?
O my, I'm rereading this and it sounds like "Poor little ol' me" syndrome. That's not my intention, really. Maybe I'm having an off day and just am venting. Who cares? this is on my mind, so I'm f-ing blogging it.
If you know anything about my RL, you know that I am a married man of 36 with two children whom I love dearly. You may also know that last year I finally came out of the closet ot my wife, then my parents and siblings. This past week I hit another "milestone" if you will with coming out. I told my 10 year old son this past Monday. Cub Scouts was cancelled, but we didn't know it, so we went anyway and sat in the parking lot of the meeting place. I had been meaning to talk to him for weeks about this, but I knew it would be difficult. A few weeks ago I told him that there was a particular reason that his parents might separate and divorce, but I didn't say which. later I told him that I was meaning to tell him, but I was a little "embarrassed" about it. (Not embarrassed in the sense that I was ashamed, more like an embarrassment that he could empathize with in his pre-teen brain). On Monday I told him.
I might as well have told him that he wasn't part of the family anymore. He didn't take it well. he hasn't wanted to talk about it with me, or with his mother, or anyone. I need to give him time to get used to it. Tuesday night I had a meeting out of town, so I didn't get home until his bedtime. The first time since he could talk that he didn't say "I love you" before I closed the door. Very sad, I know.. but it didn't break my heart.
It's because I am an adult. I know he loves me if he says those three magic words or not. I will always contitnue to say "I love you" to him for several reasons. I know he needs a strong foundation in me in order for him to make this adjustment. I know that my saying it will remind me that I need to be strong for him. I also say it because it is true. I do love him, how could I not? He is a significant person in my life and will always be that.
I know he is confused. He is already becoming indoctrined in this small-minded, sheltered community in the Bible Belt, which is not what I wanted for my children. He is past the age when "I love you" meant only one thing: Real, true love. Now he is understanding that "I love you" can mean other things. It can be used as a tool to bring people together or to put a wedge between them, or it can be used in a political sense, in which two people are vying for dominance. I can mean "I lust for you"or "I respect you" or "I am dependent on you". It can be trivial. "You got us tickets to see the concert tonight? I Love you!" It can mask horror "He beats me, but he says he loves me" It is often rationed out. Can you love more than one person at once? And is that love equal in amount and depth?
My son is starting to know there are many meanings to this phrase. Gone are the true, innocent days when "I love you" only means "You are a part of me that I forever want to care for", to be replaced with the racier, faster, slicker "I love you" of the grander world.
I love my son. I always will. No matter what.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning