Why I Write On Days I Don’t Feel Like Writing
Posted: March 19, 2012 Filed under: Uncategorized 15 Comments »Because I didn’t know why I was so mad that night until my fingers hit the keyboard the next morning. Because I don’t ever want to forget how his kiss made my skin tingle in the car that day. Because when we jumped in the river, the water crawled into our hair and made us shiver. Because I almost got married and need to know how. Because saying, “I’m sorry,” out loud sounded cheap. Because seventh grade was awkward for us all. Because I need to know which stories are important. Because my mind would get too cluttered otherwise. Because it makes me a more honest person. Because some days it’s all I have. Because it keeps me hopeful. Because it makes my parents proud. Because it makes me proud. Because Dean thinks I’m good at it, and I have the email to prove it. Because I never thought I could, and neither did she. Because Taylor told me to, and I promised I would.
Because they said if I shared my story I’d lose my job. Because I had to share it anyway. Because he called in December to tell me gay people don’t belong. Because that’s called injustice. Because I was afraid of myself for so many years and I’m not anymore and that matters a hell of a lot. Because no one whispered into my twelve-year-old ear to tell me that it’s totally normal for boys to like other boys. Because he wrote me a letter promising he wouldn’t kill himself after he read that one I wrote about the way my dad hugged me when I told him everything. Because it really is normal. Because when I was in fourth grade, my dad spray painted rocks and scattered them across our back yard when the gold rush at school didn’t go as well as I’d liked. Because he also helped me pay for counseling when I had sex for the first time at twenty-one and it was way scarier for me than I thought it’d be. Because more dads should be hugging their sons.
Because no one should have to walk through life without good, loving friends. Because a lot of people do. Because I know what it means to feel so lonely you want to vomit.
Because it takes practice. Because I can’t help it. Because it teaches me that failure is fine. Because it’s worth waiting for the right metaphor. Because, “metaphor,” really means, “person.” Because time can only smell like buttermilk biscuits on paper, and my arms aren’t actually fifteen-years long, and it’s weird to tell people the color green sounds like home over coffee. Because, like most worthwhile things, it’s difficult. Because it makes me feel brave.
Because some words are too thick for air.
It’s not often we consider ourself worthy.
It’s not often we face who we are, in our vulnerability. Let ourselves be deeply seen.
It’s not often we let people see our courage- tell the story of who we are with our whole hearts.
It’s not often we realize that story is what makes us beautiful or that it makes a difference in those who listen.
Good words- very inspiring.
He is back and awesome as ever!
That is what I am heading it! Everywhere I send it!. HE’s BACK! and we’ve missed him so.
I love this, Todd.
I love this, Todd. Thanks for putting words to truth
Because I never fail to get emotional when I read anything you write. Because reading your musings helps me to better understand and deal with my own. Because you give me hope.
… Luff.
Merely excellent.
Could I just hold you?…Mainly ’cause I need to be held…& God knows you’ve got the Love….xoxo
You forgot, “Because deep down inside, I just want a lot of people making that ugly crying face.”
I’m so glad for all of this. I’m glad Taylor told you to, and I’m glad you kept your promise. I’m glad your dad hugs you, and continues to do so in such a rich way. I am so glad that you share. I miss you, Todd!
You are teaching me so much, Son. I love you and AM proud of you.
Mom
Nancy, I have three gay adult children, and your son is helping me gain a deeper understanding about the daily struggles and
joys they experience.
Some of the posts take my breath away.
Thanks Todd! You Rock! xxoo
This honestly almost brought me to tears. Not only was the use of anaphora brilliant…YOU are brilliant.
Keep writing even when you don’t feel like it because you’re inspiring!
Phenomenal. Thank you. You Rock. Your Parents Rock.
TODD. I just found this during my normal evening interneting-to-avoid-doing-important-things-like-writing and I am so thankful: thankful for your words, thankful that you share them, thankful that we’re somehow vaguely connected through a long string of friends-of-friends, and thankful that I found this. It’s amazing how often I–who am a writer! who carries a notebook in my purse when I go to the grocery store!–need to be reminded that this is a really, really important thing we’re doing. Thanks, again!
-Lindsay, you know, Annie’s friend