I almost completely outed myself last night - to everybody.
We had a big, regional mid-singles Halloween dance last night. There were almost 500 people from all over Southern California, Arizona, Nevada and Utah. It was a fun dance. I like the whole costume thing. It allows me to assume a different persona for the evening - and it's totally acceptable because everyone else is doing it too.
Part of the festivities that always happen at these big gatherings for the 30-somethings is Speed Dating. No, it's not the type of dating where you have to partake of illegal drugs to get through the night (although that might help). And, like always, I got roped into doing it. I'm a fairly good conversationalist, so I can make people laugh and feel comfortable around me. It helps out, because a lot of these members of the female persuasion are single because they have lousy interaction skills. One of the reasons I think that I got roped into it this time was also that the person in charge of the activity is one of the girls in my ward that I came out to several months ago. I've helped her through some really tough times in the past so, bless her heart, she is trying to help me out now that I've told her everything. I love her dearly for genuine concern and desire to help, but it can also be annoying.
So, as I'm rotating through the pool of dead fish, on a few different occasions the girls were asking me about my ward and why it hasn't worked out for me yet. The third time this happened, I had one of those moments where you are in a conversation with someone but your mind is off having a conversation of its own. I don't really remember what I told her, but in my mind I was debating on whether or not it was time to finally just come out to everyone. I juggled the thought around for a while, thinking about how easy things would become if I just told people the truth:
The truth is that I don't really like girls, I like boys. That is why it hasn't worked out for me. It's the simplest answer there is. I'm surrounded by dozens of great people who I'm sure will make wonderful wives for whomever ends up marrying them. Why am I not marrying any one of them? I feel nothing for them. No feelings. No spark. No interest. Nothing whatsoever. That's why I'm as attractive as I am, have a great job, own a home, have investments, am musically gifted, well educated, etc, etc, and am still single. How can I be all of these things yet not be married? I am the definition of a paradox.
As those thoughts churned through my mind I crept closer to the edge of letting go of my fears and reservations completely. I loosened my grip on the rope that holds the curtains which are drawn to hide this part of me. I nearly let go.