The Scarecrow in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I was enduring the long ride home the other day… I say “enduring” but really it isn’t that bad. It’s a choice that I made for this time in my life, but I must say that Southern California is NOT commuter-friendly.

As I was on the bus, amongst all the strange people that were on it, I ended up sitting next to this young guy. He had to be in high school and the words flew right out of his mouth, “I’m gay.” He was cute, gregarious and instantly well-liked by several people sitting around him as he chatted.

I also happened to witness a marriage proposal. Never in my life did I actually feel like saying “why must you flaunt your private life in front of decent God-fearing American citizens” until that moment. This white-bread All-American Boy in an Angels baseball cap got on one knee and proposed to his yoga-pants wearing girlfriend in the little shopping plaza where I was at. There was all this bragging about how they’d “known each other for seven months” and this was the happiest day of her life…she’s 22.

I try real hard nowadays to be positive. Seeing how far I sank into my depression over the last 3 years made me really hate the person I’d become. I enjoy the humor and wit that cynicism elicits out of me, but the truth is those little jokes reveal much darker hidden truths that I excuse away as just being another layer of my humor.

The words “I’m gay” don’t fly out of my mouth. In fact, I don’t really ever say those things ever, I usually just confirm it with a nod of my head when someone asks if I’m gay. And even when I do say it, I feel an intense pressure in my chest that threatens to escalate into full-scale panic. Plus, marriage is still this foreign concept to me.

I just wonder, as I’m trying to make strides against the things that weigh me down and prevent me from living my life fully, what if I can’t ever get rid of these things? What if I end up living my whole life in fear? I certainly don’t want to live that way, and someone rather insensitively told me I should just stop being afraid. As if fear is like a light-switch.

I was thinking about how I’ve faced other things in my life that have made me afraid, I usually face those things head on. How do you face down a fear that essentially traces back to who you are and the way you were made? Maybe it’s not a fear of what I am but a fear of what I could be. It’s like the spectre of possibilities. It’s like there’s this gay scarecrow out in the horizon, it’s dressed a certain way, like some hideous deformation of what I’m supposed to look like. I feel like it’s chasing me and won’t let me go....

But that’s not reality. A scarecrow is just some discarded fabrics hanging on a lifeless piece of wood. The truly break the fear, I have to deconstruct it. I think that’ll be my next task. All I’ve ever done is face down my demons and I’ve realized over the years that they become bigger and bigger the deeper I go. Pretty soon, I won’t be chasing down the demons, I’ll be fighting dragons with a toothpick.