That’s one of my favorite lines from “Angels in America,” part of which I rewatched last night.

I have neglected the blog terribly the past while, for some good and not-so-good reasons.There are always going to be reasons to not find the time to write – work, yard projects, etc. But I’ve also been second-guessing myself a bit, as far as what I’m writing here and what, if anything, it accomplishes.

I had a conversation with someone a few weeks ago that has stopped me in my tracks a bit. It was an opportunity to share some very personal moments from my coming out journey, and I did it in good faith that the person I shared them with would at least acknowledge their importance to me. I’ve held onto this idea that even people who don’t agree with my decision to accept myself might develop a little bit of understanding if they knew the whole story. But it didn’t work out that way, and along with being incredibly hurtful and disappointing, the experience has caused me to re-evaluate a few things.

So, I’m being purposefully vague, because the person I had this conversation with is a dear loved one and I don’t want to “out” him, for want of a better word, because the conversation was intended to be private.

But the long and short of it is, I felt like I really put myself out there and shared some very personal and sacred experiences that have led to me this place where I feel with all of my heart that I am living the life God would have me live. And although the other person probably felt like he put himself out there as well, after listening to me, came back to me with what felt like the standard Mormon response: “But this is what the prophet said…”

Here’s the thing I hope I learned though – my mistake in going into this conversation with the level of expectation I did was that I was asking him to do the same thing he was asking me to do, which is question my own set of beliefs and my relationship with God. For him, this is a black and white issue and to allow even a little bit of compassion for my circumstances is akin to denying his testimony of the prophets.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, and how it might have gone differently, but in reality, I’m not sure there was any other outcome. Either I have to change what I firmly believe or he has to – and neither of those things is likely to happen. But that’s a very sad thing for both of us.

So. What now? I’m not sure. I’m not sure if I’ll be as willing to share my experiences as readily as I did this time if someone else inquires down the road. I’d like to think I can, but it’s very hurtful to have those experiences rejected outright.

I am hoping/planning to start posting more often here – although I hope I can change the tone a bit. I had been using the blog as a place to vent about things that get to me – in addition to sharing some of my coming out experiences and current experiences. But I think I’ve let the venting take center stage, and I feel it ends up mis-representing my life. It’s seemed like a safe place to blow off steam where people can come and choose to read it or not. No one is required to stick around if they disagree, and that’s the beauty of blogging in general. But I don’t like to think that someone, whether they know me personally or not, would come across this blog and let the feelings expressed here confirm a preconceived notion that gay people are angry and unhappy people. Because that is far from true.

For today, I leave you with one last quote from “Angels in America”:

Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least, I think that’s so.