I once thought of myself as a boy who could…. would never again find the light of love that he knew in his most secret moments. That lie found its origins deep in an autumn  swamp in the cruelty that haunted my sleep for most of my youth. In the broken metal, shattered and scattered on that dark pavement one August night … yesterday… no, more than 35 years since. My love hidden, broken, impossible and then just ether. A promise kept, another haunting pain to keep deep inside so that the Others would never find… me.

           Eleven lustrum passed until the boy sought the light once more. His hands trembled but his heart gave him the words and he lowered his shield and he spoke once more. First to those who would listen, and love him more…

           And then, to the Others.

           It has been almost a year. What did he find, that little boy who lived in the shadows with the words all around, echoing in the darkness until they bled forth onto paper and then found their strength in honesty ?

            Truth. Sharp and cutting. Meting out its damage from the darkness that lived in those who he once loved with all of his heart.  Impossible anger . Churlish theories laced with shame and rejection. Religious bigotry of the worst kind, imposed in thinly veiled code that cut him until his face gave away the battle within and his hands, big and strong now, trembled without reason.

            It has been an impossible year.


                 I once thought of myself as a soldier, saved from the depths of that emerald lake for a reason too mysterious to contemplate. One that I must accept without question.  I was born in that light as the water gushed forth from the little boy on the sandy shore who cried for those he could not tell. Those who would never understand what he left in that light.

                 There is noone on this earth who can or ever will destroy the understanding I was blessed with that day. If the monsters of my youth and 45 years of constant torment failed, no mortal will ever change who I am or will become.

                  I have waited long enough. Now, once again, I move foward. Reinventing myself. Better for the pain and clearer in my understanding of the corruption around me.

                  As Easter approaches once again, I have taken steps that will change everything that once held me silent.

                  At the suggestion of a very dear friend, I have offered my services and the bounty of my love to an organization that mentors disenfranchised gay and lesbian youth. Endangered kids. There, I will try to make a difference, but this time, as a proud gay man, unashamed and unbent.

                   I will dearly miss those taken from my life so cruelly , and look foward to the day of their emancipation. Until then, I will do my best to speak for the other little boy who hides his light from the Others, so that some day, EVERY boy and girl who’s only difference is the way they love, will be safe and the darkness will be banished to places no child should ever see.

                   To all those who have read my postings the past three years, I extend this challenge-  Go out and make a difference! Do not go quietly into the night! Unsheathe  the sword of truth and honesty, and join me in the battle that MUST be fought. For the child who has no voice. For whom this day may never come… without you.

                   A happy and blessed Easter to all….   tman

Lest we forget…   Happy Easter, boys!

[19 Feb 1945- 26 March 1945]