Sinnerviewer

A Conversation With the Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:15:00 +0000

I had an encounter with two lost men at Atlanta’s Pride weekend. I spotted them when I was marching with my P-FLAG group in the Gay Pride Parade. They were the ones not cheering, but instead, screaming at the parade participants, “YOU’RE WICKED!!!” and holding signs warning everyone that “God Hates Fags” and things like that. My heart went out to them.

I enjoyed my day with my wife, Melissa, my friends and with my wonderful parents, who carried the banner for PFLAG proudly. We enjoyed Atlanta’s Piedmont Park and all of the festivities and booths. The weather was lovely and the park was full of families and people celebrating diversity. We had a beautiful day.

.
As I was leaving the park, I saw the two men again at the exit. One was an angry, obese man and the other was a young guy who didn’t seem quite as hate-filled. I’ll call them Angry and Young. Angry was still shouting out to people, “You’re WICKED!” and I just decided to speak with them to see if I could get them to embrace their hypocrisy.

.
Me: “Why are you shouting at these people?”

.
Angry: “To save them from their wickedness. Jesus said to tell people the good news…”

.
Me: “Mark 16:15 says, ‘Jesus said to them, ‘Go unto all the world and preach the good news to all creation.’ ‘ “Yelling at people that they are wicked is not preaching good news, is it?”

.
Angry: “The Bible says that your lifestyle disgusts God and He hates you! The law of God stands.”

.
Me: In Matthew 22, Jesus was asked by the religious zealots who were trying to trap him with a question what the greatest commandment was. He said it was to love God with all of your heart, soul and mind. But he added that the second greatest commandment was to love your neighbor as yourself. Do you love me as much as you would love yourself?

.
Angry: “You’re wicked!”

.
Young: We do love you. That’s why we’re here…

.
Me: Do you honestly hope to draw anyone here to Jesus Christ with these tactics? You both embrace the love of law more than you embrace the law of love. Jesus never did anything like this.

.
Angry: “Yes he did! He went on an angry rampage!”

.
Me: He did go on an angry rampage at the temple because they had allowed it to become a money machine where people were selling goods for worship and price-gouging people who had to come from afar to pray and offer sacrifices. He was disgusted by how the priests allowed it to become a business, not a house of worship and praise. His anger was directed towards the church, and I have a sneaking suspicion he feels the same way about it today.”

.
Young: The Bible says that…

.
Me: The Bible says, in James, that "true religion is this: to visit the widows and orphans in the time of their affliction". When was the last time that either of you visited widows or orphans in the time of their affliction? And be honest because God will hold you accountable for every word that you utter on judgment day.

.
Angry: (crickets)

.
Young: What do you mean?

.
Me: Why are you spending an entire day shouting at people when you could be ministering to people? When was the last time that you ministered to a widow or an orphan?

.
Young: You mean literally?

.
Me: Isn’t that how you take the Bible? Literally? Yes, I mean literally. When?

.
Young: My mom’s a widow. So I guess it was her.

.
Me: Really? That’s great. But who, outside of your family?

.
Young: I guess nobody.

.
Me: Well then why don’t you go do that instead? Jesus did not scream at people, he taught them and helped them and you are doing neither. Micah 6 says that 'the Lord requires of you only this: to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly before your God'. You are not acting merciful nor are you acting humble. Rather, you are full of spiritual pride and you can’t even speak to me normally, but feel the need to shout at me and the people around here. You need to keep reading that Bible, brother.

.
Angry: I aint your brother! You people are wicked and God says you are an abomination!

.
Me: God says that He knit me in my mother’s womb and that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He made me this way and He loves me this way. I love him and that is why I am not shouting at you that you are wicked. You obviously live a sinful lifestyle of gluttony and sloth as evidenced by your obesity. I would never stand on a street corner and condemn you for your sinful lifestyle. Your sin is between you and God and I believe we are all sinners and that God’s grace will cover us. Jesus said that ALL who call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. So I guess I'll see you in Heaven…

I Got Married

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:50:00 +0000

This past Wednesday, Melissa & I went to a United Church of Christ and got married.
.
It was the two of us with the minister. It was the most simple and beautiful thing I have ever been a part of. We opened with prayer, the minister read 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8 -
.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily
angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

.
I read my vows to her and she read hers to me. We exchanged beautiful rings and then, we had a final prayer and our first kiss as wife and wife. Please share in my joy... I am married to the girl of my dreams.

Why Gays Should Have Their Parades

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 14:44:00 +0000

Before I came out, I used to hear people say things like, "Fine if you're gay, but do you need to march in a parade over it? I mean, there aren't any heterosexual parades!"

Tru dat... but isn't every day heterosexual day? Think about it: if you are straight, you are automatically more acceptable. You, along with roughly 90% of the population, roll the same way. The other 10% of us are relegated to an entirely different group of standards.

If you straight people share a quick kiss in the park, nobody even notices. If a gay couple does that, they are often subjected to angry glares, rude comments and sometimes violence. I have experienced this firsthand (as well as my straight friends that were with me). The level of hatred out there is astonishing!

If a straight couple want to get married, they can go do that. They can do it on TV as part of a reality show, they can do it at the courthouse or in a church. And when they're done, it's considered "sanctified" no matter how much or little they care for each other or what their ulterior motives are.

The federal government extends to them many protections of their assets and shields them from tax burdens. A gay couple, by the same token, cannot have any of those benefits or protections.

The majority of employers in this country do not extend benefits to same-sex partners the same way that they do to married couples. Even if they did, many employees are too fearful to say that they have a same-sex partner to their boss because there are no laws that will protect them from being fired based on sexual orientation in most states.

Nobody makes fun of a straight person based on sexual orientation. Nobody uses "straight" or "hetero" as a slur to describe something very negative. Not the same with "queer", "fag", "diesel dyke", etc,.

When gay people gather for one weekend a year to be among people who are like them, there is a reason to celebrate. For that tiny moment, we are not the freaks and outcasts that society sometimes make us feel like. We are the people who have the courage to say who we are and not feel ashamed or scared to admit that we love differently.

Give us a freakin parade and, if you really want to be cool, march with us in it. If anyone deserves a parade, it's the gays. We have every reason to be proud and that is what Pride Weekend is all about.

Assets = Liabilities + Owners Equity

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 19:11:00 +0000

This has been my world for the last 2 weeks. This, marketing and microcomputers. I'm taking a full load in college and I have been studying my ass off! I have my first big test tonight in accounting and I am panic-stricken. I am already struggling to make sense of how you call something a debit or a credit but it has no increase or decrease meaning. An increase on the debit side of cash also means an increase on the credit side of the owner's equity. ???
.
My mind is acting totally offended that I am asking it to remember these things or to remember a new meaning for words like "debit" and "credit" that it's not used to thinking of them that way. It's protesting - it's acting like "No numbers allowed! Words only!" I'm seriously struggling to force it in there. I keep telling my brain, "You are GOING to remember this, even if you don't understand it! You're not going to refuse this information. Just because you won the 'not memorizing your multiplication tables' battle doesn't mean you'll win here."
.
So back to studying I go...

A Bitter Inventor?

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 00:46:00 +0000

Happy 18th Birthday, Nick

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 11:45:00 +0000

On October 14th 1991, I gave birth to a 7lb, 11oz baby boy. I named him Nicholas Stephen after Nikki Sixx (Motley Crue) and Stephen Tyler (Aerosmith). I thought if he was an intellectual, he could go by Nicholas. If he were a jock, he could go by Nick and if he were a rocker, he'd go by Nicky. Actually, they all fit him because he is all 3 of those and so much more.

Nicholas has the highest GPA in his class. He just finished all of his requirements for his Eagle Scout rank. He plays football for his high school (which scares me to death) and he has superb taste in music. He rocks out with his mom and we often share music and suggestions for new purchases on iTunes.

Last night, I was having a mini-breakdown at the thought that my baby would officially be a man today on his 18th birthday. I texted him during my accounting class to see if I could meet him for a little last-minute lovin' on my baby boy before his birthday. Always accommodating, he agreed and we spent about a half an hour on the driveway just talking.

He spoke about his plans to go to college to get an aviation degree, his plans to participate in Air Force weekend training in order to enter into the force as an officer and to have a career as a military aviator. As he spoke, I soon forgot about the little fella that he once was and marveled at the man that he is.

As exciting as it is to see him come so far in such a short time, it's even more exciting to know what his plans for the future are and know that I had the joy, honor and privilege in raising such a fine boy.

Nick, no mother has ever loved her son as much as your Mama loves you. Happy 18th Birthday.

I'm Sad

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 11:03:00 +0000

I've thought about this for nearly 18 years. Today is my son's last day as a minor. Tomorrow, he turns 18 and I am sad. I miss that little guy that used to sing "Do You Know the Muffin Man?" as he cleaned windows. I miss the sweet fella who follwed his dad around the yard with his Bubble Mower. I miss the little boy who made a "robber trap" for me out of twine and empty cans like a spider web throughout my garage so I couldn't even park in it.

The thought of him as a man is not as hard for me as I had once imagined. He has proven his capability beyond all doubt - he really is a man. But that doesn't change the fact that I miss the little guy that called me Mama and picked flowers for my hair. Tomorrow, I'll rejoice with him on his birthday. Today, however, I just want to be sad.

A Dark Day

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 11:39:00 +0000

There will be no meaningful post today as I am in mourning. My iPod shuffle was accidently washed with the sheets. It doesn't seem that I can go a full year without laundering at least 1 important piece of expensive electronic equipment.

Coming Out Day: Yep, I'm Gay

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 14:18:00 +0000

Today is National Coming Out Day. I just wanted to let you all know that I'm gay. As a matter of fact, each time I wake up and see my girlfriend in bed next to me, I worry a little that I might be a little too gay.
.
It is very likely that several people in your life that are also gay. You may know about them, have hunches about their sexuality or it may completely escape you because they are struggling to live their lives as heterosexual. Many live in fear that others won't love them if they live their truth. Each day, they pretend that they live a happy life so that everyone else can have a happy life while they suffer a loneliness that cannot be described.
.
Please remember, especially if you have children, be mindful of how you speak of gays. Everything you utter about a gay person will be registered in his/her mind and that will determine how they will relate to you or if they feel that you would be a safe person to talk to. Your child may be gay and if they are not, at the very least you will be teaching them tolerance and respect for their fellow human being.
.
This concludes your public service announcement.

Cleanse Me

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 13:46:00 +0000

I remember talking to my Grandma one day about how medicine had changed since she was a little girl. She mentioned that it was common knowledge that everyone needed to de-worm themselves at least twice a year back in her day and she didn't know why it fell out of fashion.

That conversation stayed with me and carried over until I made it to my doctor and asked him about parasites and why we didn't need to worry about them. His answer shocked me. He said not only should we, but that he recommended that his patients cleanse their bodies of toxins and parasites at least twice a year. (Just like Grandma!)

Yesterday, Sweet Melissa went to the health store and bought us each a bottle of "The Cleaner" for a full body sweep. I was reading the label and I could feel my stomach churning just thinking about taking 8 pills a day while drinking 10 glasses of water. Something else on the label caught my eye. It was this line: "For better bathroom results, read info at HowtoUseTheBathroom.com " - no, seriously.

Naturally, I couldn't help myself and I went on over. Did you know that if you aren't squatting like a primitive caveman, you aren't doing it properly? This site had all sorts of fascinating information. I now know that I've treated my body like a toxic waste dump and it's a wonder I don't have some deadly form of cancer yet. Anyway, it's a good, motivating read and at the very least, quite entertaining. I am now off to purge my system of parasites and toxins! Peace out!

Convert Metric For Me

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 20:42:00 +0000

.
I have a foodie crush on Gordon Ramsey. I love all of his shows (Hell's Kitchen, The F Word, Kitchen Nigtmares) and one of my favorite pastimes is to eat while I watch. I usually have food envy because he's making some awesome looking food and I'm eating a sliced apple with Jif peanut butter on the side.
.
I was watching him make Crab Risotto the other day on The F Word. I thought, "I'm going to make that!" and went right to his website to get the recipe. I found the recipe but it's in metric and I have no idea how much of what to use. That got me to thinking, "There's another fine example of forcing us to learn something in school that we never use in adulthood unless we need to use a European recipe!"
.
I thought about disguising it as math problems for my kids but they're already swamped with schoolwork. Then it dawned on me that I am sure to have at least 1 reader of my blog that lives for this shit. So here is the ingredient list. Anyone who cares to convert this for me is sure to be hailed as a hero so get out those calculators and go to town:
.
250grams crab meat
100grams cold butter
350 grams risotto rice
200ML white wine
1.4 Litres veg. stock
.
Thank you in advance, good people of the Earth.

A Brief Summary

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 01:03:00 +0000

Shit, I've been busy!

I started college as a full-timer last week. Already, my head is swimming and I keep dreaming that I forgot assignments, can't find my books or got failing grades. For some reason, I feel completely disorganized which is very odd for me.

Last weekend, my peeps & I went to Florida to see Joan Jett (see my former post). We had a kickin' time sans one bummer event: my straight, married pal got gay-bashed by a hateful biatch. This woman, who said she was a Christian but displayed no fruit of the spirit and was clearly intoxicated, screamed at all of us like a total lunatic for 5 minutes before popping Michelle in the mouth. (Reminded me & Michelle of my mom). We were all dumbfounded. Michelle was gracious enough not to press charges and the lady was moved to the VIP section. I guess the Destin Seafood Festival likes to reward the homophobes.

My baby boy is going to be 18 a week from today and I am feeling surprisingly proud, not sad. When I think about our relationship, it makes me so glad to know that my son has really become my friend. I still occasionally give him advice or directives, but mostly, we are friends now. Friends that will be taking scuba lessons in 2 weeks together!

Catch ya later!

Rushing the Stage at Joan Jett

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 01:44:00 +0000

I know, I've been MIA for a while. I started college last week and I had such an amazing, fun weekend with my grrls in Destin, FL. We drove down to see Joan Jett play and I have a lot to tell about the trip (like my straight friend getting gay-bashed) but not right now because I have 2 classes tomorrow. For now, you just get to enjoy this video of me rushing the stage at the show. I played a little air guitar for Joan and my pal, Michelle, came out to dance with me before security led us back to our area. Notice when we are leaving, Joan claps for us. WooHoo!!!
.

9/11/01 From Austria

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 14:59:00 +0000

On September 11, 2001, I was in Villach, Austria. I was working with a team to complete the construction of 8 apartments for elderly women who spent their entire lives running an orphanage in a 400 year old manor. The order of the day was laying tile on a spiral staircase and hauling large stones in a rickety wheelbarrow.

When we had our afternoon tea break, I ran across the lane to the manor to try to call my children. I had missed them for the last 3 days when I tried to call in the afternoon so I had hoped to catch them in the morning. It was about 8:15 their time and I was finally able to talk to them and my mom who was staying at my house with them.

I walked back across the lane and got back to hauling rocks. One of the elderly women came over from the manor to tell me, in her broken English, that my country was under attack. She said people had tried to blow up the World Trade Center.

I thought that she was watching some documentary about the time that the terrorists tried to blow it up with a car bomb a few years earlier. She was adamant that someone from my team come inside to see.

We sent our team leader in with her. When he came back, his face was grim and he explained what was going on as he understood it. Although many of us wanted to go inside to watch CNN, we were the last team to work on the project and whatever was left undone when we left would remain so unless someone local might offer help. These women had given up their lives to care for the orphans of World War II and the least that we could do was our very best. We all stayed to work. We were certainly an oddity in the community - word had spread that the Americans were still working despite our national tragedy.

After the day was over, we went inside to watch the news. I stood in one of the apartments and saw my countrymen leaping out of the burning building. I was dismayed that anyone could be so evil. My heart burned with anger towards whoever was responsible.

The following day, I was outside collecting tiles from the cutter to take to the layer when a very old man walked over to me. He could barely speak any English- "American?" he asked.

"Yes." I nodded and smiled.

He held one hand straight up. With the other hand, he made a motion as if it were an airplane that crashed into his tower hand. I watched the tower hand crumble and his head lowered. He removed his hat and covered his heart.

My eyes filled with tears and he lifted his head to look at me. His eyes were red and tear-filled as well. One of the Austrian woman nearby came over to see why we were both crying. They spoke and she began translating. She said, "This man wants to tell you that when he was a young man and his country was being ravaged by Hitler, he nearly starved to death as a soldier in the revolution to overthrow Germany. He was at death's door when Americans showed up. They fed him, gave him clothes and boots and they fought with him to get his country back. He says to tell you that he has never seen such kind and brave men.

"This man says that like the American soldiers, your group has been working tirelessly for these women whom you've never met. He is ashamed that this community did not do this project themselves after all that these women have done here. But you Americans came and worked, even in the face of tragic news, you did not stop working for them. Your forefathers did not stop fighting for Austria, even when they lost comrades. He says to tell you that your country will always be an example and a beacon of hope for the rest of the world and his heart is broken for you all today."

I gave that old fella the hug of a lifetime. Here I was, a stranger in a strange land, not knowing what was going on at home and worrying about whether we were under an attack or when I could return home, and this kind man took the time to comfort me in my distress. Although I knew that my country has so very many problems and we are not perfect, this mans words of comfort were healing to my heart.

Several days later, when they began allowing flights again, we arrived at the airport in Vienna. The people of Vienna were showing up in droves with drinks, snacks and flowers for all of the people in line to go back to the United States. I felt so much love from the Austrian people.

Arriving in Washington D.C. to see a giant American flag hanging from the tower, we all cheered and cried to be home. All the way back home, I saw flag after flag - the love and patriotism that my country had for one another was a thing of beauty. Although I will never know what it was like to be here in the states when the tragedy struck, I had an even more unique opportunity to find out what we mean to people across the globe. Thank you, Austrians, for the love that you showed.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 13:27:00 +0000

Another conversation that makes me worry about myself. I had this one just 30 minutes ago with Melissa.

Melissa: Where are we going today, Baybee?

Me: To my cousin's office to pick up 5 laptops that I am going to try to sell.

Melissa: What kind of profit are you trying to make?

Me: Any profit would be nice but he is going to fill me in on the details when we get there. That's why I want you to come along and listen with me. I don't want to miss anything. Two ears are better than one.

Melissa: Yeah. And four ears are better than two.

What If I Don't Fit In?

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 13:01:00 +0000

Yesterday, I had this conversation with my 15 year old daughter, Lindsey:
.
Lindsey: What did you do today, Mom?
.
Me: I got registered for my classes for college next month.
.
Lindsey: Yay! What are you taking?
.
Me: Marketing, Introduction to Microcomputers and Accounting 101.
.
Lindsey: You don't sound very excited, Mom.
.
Me: Well, it's been a long, long time since I've been in school. I'm a little nervous.
.
Lindsey: Are you afraid the other kids won't like you?
.
Me: Well, I'm 40 and they are all going to be a lot younger than me. What if we don't have much in common?
.
Lindsey: You won't. But here's a tip: Don't talk about Bon Jovi. Just mention Coldplay and maybe you might seem like you belong there.
.
Me: But I don't really like Coldplay all that much...
.
Lindsey: It doesn't matter! Just don't be yourself - and you'll be fine.

Facing Fears

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 23:06:00 +0000

Shit, I hate werewolves!

All of my life, I have had a fear of them. Not just them, but any big, hairy thing with lots of teeth. There is nothing more terrifying than a gigantic, howling creature that is capable of moving at lightning speed, killing you at the drop of a hat and the possibility of you turning into one as well.

I remember the most traumatic times in my life were watching wolfy things on TV. The first time I remember seeing one was a bigfoot. I saw him on my favorite TV show, The Six Million Dollar Man. Later, when Captain & Tenille were on an episode of Fantasy Island, the Captain was a wolf-man that scared the ever-living hell out of me when he first showed his face. I also had nightmares for a month when someone allowed me to watch a made for tv movie called the Abominable Snowman.

What are you afraid of? What fears do you have that you know are irrational yet you still have the fear? And how do you get over it? How do you face that fear so that you can laugh at it and move on? I want to go through life without having any fear... just face whatever comes and know that it has no power over me. I'm working on it.

Bear Warning

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 02:52:00 +0000

Trading Up

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 11:32:00 +0000

It's nothing personal, I just haven't felt like I had much to say about what was going on in life lately. It's just been a boring holding pattern of trying to get into school - I haven't been in over 20 years and it's been hard trying to decide where to go and how am I going to pay for it. I've been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember and it's a bit daunting to try to start over at 40. Still, I'm excited about the new things happening in my life now.
.
New Thing #1:

For as long as I can remember, my son has been wanting Scuba lessons. His 18th birthday is coming up in October and he is about to become an Eagle Scout. Those are 2 occasions that call for a kick ass gift. The problem? As my dearly departed Grandma would say, I don't have a pot to piss in nor a window to throw it out. So I did what any mom who adores her son would do: I wrote to every scuba lesson venue in the metro Atlanta area asking if I can work for lessons.
.
One very, very nice man got back in touch with me. He was impressed with my ability to "think outside the box" (he has no idea, has he?) so he agreed to allow me to work for the $700 lessons. Not only that, but he also offered to let me take them with him at no additional charge. So now, I get to take the lessons with my son! How cool is that?
.
New Thing #2: I got into a school! I didn't have any SATs so I took their own entrance exam. I scored well above that I needed to to get in and it was sweet relief since I felt like math would be the thing that might keep me out. I got into a 2 year marketing program. Best news: I also got a grant from Uncle Sam to pay for it. I start in late September. Watch me go, people!
.
I am excited to start a new chapter of my life. I have 2 amazing teens, 2 amazing parents (Papa & Gigi - I love you both, thanks for your love & support) and the best girlfriend in the world. Watch me go.

Seriously: Get Off My Lawn

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 12:29:00 +0000

Why I'm a Lesbian #486

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 21:29:00 +0000

Happy Birthday Grandma

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 11:25:00 +0000

Today, my precious Grandma would've been 80 years old. She passed away last September of Leukemia and I miss her more than I can say. Here is a video tribute that I made for her this last Christmas:
.

.
Grandma, I love you and I miss you and my life will never be as rich as when I had you in it. I can't wait to see you again.

Killing Love Softly

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 19:08:00 +0000

I was talking to a woman the other day. She was telling me how she wasn't liking herself much at the moment because she felt like she had grown cold towards her husband. He had spent almost all of their marriage acting like a spoiled child. He would berate this woman when she asked questions that he considered stupid, speak to her disrespectfully, and yell at her for making the slightest mistakes. Even when it was him who was clearly in the wrong and she confronted him, he would sulk and pout and try to change the subject from his error to something that he didn't like about her.
.
Over the years, the routine of acting horrible to begin with followed by anger at her for even being upset by his behavior, followed by his insincere apology and promises to change, followed by the bad behaviour again - that cycle repeating over and over - had left this woman feeling cold towards him. It wasn't her normal nature and she wondered why she was so slow to put the most recent infraction behind her and have their relationship return to normal.
.
I told her that it sounded me like the well of love that had once been full was now very low. He had been taking buckets of it out over the years and nothing was being replaced. It was now nearly empty and she was too exhausted and cynical to do much to stir the embers of passion that might still be there inside of her for him.
.
It was sad to hear because I've been there. I've been with someone who took and took but was so reluctant to give. And when they did give, they did it because they had to, not because they wanted to. I've been with someone who let me know about each and every little thing that I did wrong but rarely thanked me for what I did right. I've been with someone who felt the need to assign blame for every disappointment. It just chips away the love - slowly and over time.
.
In relationships like this where there's clearly a giver and clearly a taker, they start out great. But after the taker starts complaining and taking the giver for granted, the passion wanes. Then, there is strain. Then, there is a turning point when you begin to think of them differently and begin to ponder what life would be like without them. If nothing changes, the love is eventually gone and nothing that person can think of to do will change the fact that the love is gone for good.
.
My dad reminded me recently of a framed saying that he has in his cabin:

When the satisfaction and security of another person becomes as important as your own satisfaction and security, the state of love exists.

I have learned some lessons along the way about love and I am going to try hard not to kill any love that Melissa has for me. I am going to try to tell her why I love her and what she does that pleases me. I never want to tell her that disappointed me if my only reason for doing so is to make her feel like a failure. I hope she sees my love in each meal I cook, in each folded shirt, in each kiss, in each cleaned toilet, in each "I love you" that I say to her. I hope she sees my love in how the things that are important to her are also important to me.
.
I also hope that the husband of this woman will wake up and realize that it's time for him to start giving back the love that has been consistently showered upon him so that he can experience how much better it feels to be a giver than it does to be a taker.

I Love SmartAsses!

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 13:02:00 +0000

Middle of the Night, I Wanna Break Up

noreply@blogger.com (Sinnerviewer) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 07:44:00 +0000

Dear Middle of the Night:

When I was young, you held such allure for me. You meant that I was having a sleepover and staying up way past my bedtime. You meant fun or a special occasion. You meant that I was thinking that I heard Santa on the roof.

As a teen, being with you meant that I had successfully snuck out of the house to party with my friends or else I was camping out for Motley Crue tickets. You meant experimentation with life and love.

As a young adult, spending time with you meant I was finally old enough to get into a bar! My friends and I could bask in your moonlight without the contraints of parental repression. That light was so much sweeter because it was the light of freedom.

As a new mother, being with you was sweet during the times that I nursed my babies at 2am. It was just you, me and the baby. Sometimes, the baby had an ear infection and I didn't want to be there with either of you. But mothers do what they have to do. Still, there were times that I wasn't enjoying you as much and we began to grow apart.

We took a long break from each other when the children were old enough to sleep through the night. I hardly ever saw you because I was sleeping while you were awake. I didn't seem to ever think about you or miss you and I really forgot about you all together.

Lately, though, things have started to change and I am seeing you again, allbeit, against my will. Sometimes, it's because the slightest thing wakes me up shortly after I fell asleep and I am trapped in your lair. Sometimes, my body is complaining about food, aches or a full bladder. When I get up to remedy the situation, there you are, mocking me.

Sometimes, it's just my cares. Those babies are now almost adults and I worry about them. I worry about Sweet Melissa and her worries. Tonight, I lay in my bed until 2am thinking about the injustice that goes on in this world before I just gave up trying to sleep. I heard a very sad story today and I am worried about the stranger in that story and I wish I could call him now at 4am and tell him that I am praying for him. But he's sleeping, just like I wish I was.

Middle of the Night, I am none too happy to be in your presence under these conditions. I don't want to see you anymore. I can't listen to your silence anymore. I no longer want to feel the lonliness of being the only one with you, who are no fit companion. I am just plain sick and tired of stumbling down a dark hallway looking for my Tylenol and feeling like the only woman on the planet with achy knees at 3am.

I guess what I want to say is this: I want to break up.

It's not you, Middle of the Night. It's me. I've changed. I don't love you the way that I did when I was younger. I saw you in a different way then and I can never go back to those feelings. I have different needs now. Mainly sleep. I wish you all the love in the world, Middle of the Night, but I think it's best if we never see each other again.

Cordially,

Sinnerviewer