Dec
2004
06

The Piano Man

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I was surprised when I saw him sitting at the piano when I walked into church – his bright yellow shirt and flamboyant manner was shocking. I felt a strange and foreign kinship with him, yet I was confused as to why he was part of the worship team. He was totally gay! I attended a few weeks without sharing my thoughts with anyone else, but finally I nonchalantly asked a fellow church member if my suspicions were true. Her response was, “of course not dear, he’s a Christian”! I knew she was wrong, but I learned once again that I was treading on thin ice as a Christian and a closet lesbian. I was reminded how I should be and on the surface, no one could accept me for what I was.

I had ignored the fact that I loved women for years and years. I was too busy being the perfect daughter, the perfect student, and the perfect sister. I had to make everyone happy at all costs, so when the distraction of a confusing attraction crept its way into my mind, it was easy to push it away in haste without a second thought. The dreams I had at night of holding my best friend or touching a female classmate were easy to ignore too – I mean really, dreams are so confusing!

Add to the mix the unspoken rules of my faith and it was doubly important not to acknowledge the hidden feelings that dwelt subconsciously in my mind and heart. Such things could not be so, if you really had faith like I claimed to! I was not that way! It cannot be! How is THAT ever perfection? It would destroy everything for me in the world I had created by doing everything for everyone – never mind the fact that I was slowly dying with every task I finished. For years this defined my life.

So sitting in church, watching Mr. Gay play the piano was very hard for me. Not because he bothered me, but because he could not tell me anything about his life, nor could I tell him about mine. About the beautiful woman who held my heart in her hands, about how we loved each other beyond measure, about how it feels to hold her in my arms and smell her perfume as I kiss her. I could not openly hold her hand or acknowledge her place in my life because I was a Christian, and Christians were not homosexuals.

(Side note – I don’t believe that and I know my faith in Jesus is real and true. It’s just these PEOPLE who are so far from His word that bug!)

In any case, I have created this prison for myself as well. Oh to say to hell with my Christian job! To find a job where I can come out! To tell my family members, without care, of my undying devotion to the woman I love! But there was still that “perfect” part hanging onto my old life…..the life where I didn’t want to shatter the image I had worked so hard for. By doing so, what would it cost?

I want it so badly and yet I am scared.

So I look at Mr. Gay playing the piano and wonder, what is his life like?

by Smoke Rings

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