Rich man's Hell, Poor man's Heaven

ENTRY THREE

ENTRY THREE

It's time to change the method of my logging. Using the previously entered logs, the point of entry I will be writing from will be starting from two years ago.

Two years ago, in '21, I had no confidence in my future or my purpose. After my mother passed away in '19 I went down a downward spiral. Prior to her death, I was living with my godparents, who have been caring for me for about four years, maybe three, and a few months. As I was living with my godparents, I had become progressively firm in my belief that my same-sex attraction was never something I chose, but rather something I experienced. My godparents once were open to that possibly being accurate but had changed their minds and have become firm on the opposing belief.

Furthermore, I had been experiencing seasons of depression, in short bursts, a week each month. I believe the trigger of this depression was the lack of confidence that I held, regarding a purpose or a strength to live for. I made my goal in life marriage, but I wanted that marriage to be homosexual. I stood on the belief that marriage could be between two men, or two women because I focused on the physical action as evidence, rather than the foundation of marriage. I was in active pursuit of achieving this goal, but that meant I would have to go through rigorous social obstacles to meet a man who had a mutual goal and attraction to me.

I went to college with the goal to meet the man for me, I was going to get a basic bachelor's degree, simply in case that failed. I didn't want my time invested in vain. I used this to produce gradual stability in my personal life, in hopes it would attract a man who found this individuality appealing and would want to build a mutual interdependency with me. I began to work on my weight, and the type of style I believed would best stand for me, while also being somewhat appealing to a potential suitor, etc. In short, everything I did from the age of 16 onward was dedicated to finding a man, and if not that, getting to know the God who loves me.

I shut out anything that disagreed with my belief that homosexuality was innate in me and that I was not as valuable as my hetero or non-homosexual peers. I already struggled to believe I held any purpose or value, in response to my lack of raw talent, skills, knowledge, or charm, so to be even more repulsive to people because of the sex I wanted to get closer to intimately seemed to be too much for me to accept. Every time I seemed to hook a man's interest, my desperation to be approved as valuable by that man and thus worthy of taking care of would disturb them, and thus lead to the relationship sinking.

Men who were interested in me were either not men I found physically appealing or were not interested in how dedicated I was to marriage. Given my age, ranging from middle school all the way to 21 years old, I had the desire to have a romantic male partner, but 16 was when my desperation became overwhelming. I now know what may have been the key reasons for this desperation and drive, but at the time I believed I was merely serious about marriage and determined to see my success in achieving that goal.

I wanted the marriage to lead into evangelical ministry, to produce the confidence in me to become a missionary and to stand in persecution with my partner until we finished the race of faith. I truly believed that if I stood under every other biblical command regarding marriage appropriately, I would receive the blessing of God the Father. Although I believed my intentions were good, I had a very hard time finding a man who had mutual interests, beliefs, and desires. My mother's passing only hardened the blow of hopelessness I felt.

My mother and I were starting to rekindle our relationship when I was 18, finally starting to build boundaries that made it somewhat safe to interact with her again. I had it in my mind that we would get together in the middle of April and converse over what has been on our minds. I saw, in my daydreams, my mother being at my wedding and having a dance with me. I saw a happy and long life with a man hidden in mystery, one who my mother would love. I had so much hope that maybe our talk would help me to feel confident in my goal, but her death blew up my hope.

I can't remember what happened throughout '19, but I do know that I met a boy later that year, in college. He was the most interesting boy I ever spoke to, personally. I remember him being very gentle, and captivating, but also like a midnight snowstorm. I don't know if it was desperation or genuine admiration, but I did not find my connection to him easy to get over. He was the first ever boy I met face-to-face, who I got to kiss and flirt with. The first one I found physically attractive, and intellectually attractive.

He was the only boy who held soft masculinity that did not deter me from being interested, as usual, I wanted my spouse to be a natural leader who would be traditionally masculine. He was by far the weirdest normal, strangest introvert I ever met, yet he had my attention as if I was hypnotized. We had a mutual interest, but my lack of experience and gentle character ended his interest quickly. I knew him for about two weeks, if not only one week, and yet his effect on me was dangerous.

Now, he was into the occult, black magic, and witchcraft. He wanted dark power and may have already produced some results, such as me being captivated. I didn't allow that to push me away, because I believed God would protect me from the darkness, and that if that boy grew to like me, he may also come to desire a relationship with God too. After we ended our connection, I fell into a soft depression for about 6 months. I believe this was caused by him being my first physical encounter yet being rejected in person. He was the closest I ever got to my goal, despite our goals being completely different. My delusions got the best of me.

After this happened, I refused to let this failed attempt stop me from continuing my mission, but the experience left me with a trail of questions and ponderings that were incredibly hard to disregard. I met another boy, and he and I decided we were romantic partners after about a month or so. We both wanted a life-long partner and agreed on many things, but I had more desires for my faith than he did. He was willing to do whatever he could to keep me around, but I lacked a strong physical attraction to him.

This eventually killed our relationship, and his hope for a second try killed our friendship. Once again, a man I was not in complete agreement with. My failed attempts with these guys, my mother's death, and my doubt in the scriptures as completely reliable led me to conclude that in order for me to trust scripture, and thus God, I would have to leave my godparents' house and venture somewhere without the limitations I had there, such as not bringing a guy I was interested in over, going on dates, and potentially having a male romantic partner. I had to see if I truly could not have what I wanted while also doing everything else God asked of me.

I decided to run away, thinking that I could pursue my desire to get married without being stuck behind the rules of my godparents because I didn't want to disrespect their house in that regard, but I also didn't want to give up my dream. Also, because of the weight of the rejection I received from the first guy, I was not motivated to graduate from my classes, and ultimately, resigned the semester I was in. I thought I'd come back the following semester, but I never went back. I had a friend from high school who allowed me to live with her for some time, and so this is where my journey took a wild turn.

As I lived with her, I gradually became more like her. We agreed in a lot of ways with each other, but my desire to still walk with God was clearer, for a little while. She smoked a lot of marijuana, and always offered to share it with me. I found it hard to refuse because I started to hate the sober feeling of not having my goal closer to completion. I used to resist smoking with her in the past, more in regard to my parents and their distaste for me engaging in that, and less because of my relationship with God. Well, the longer I stayed with my friend, the more I smoked.

Not only that, but we had a trio with another friend, who liked to drink and socialize, so those things became normal activities for me. We drank and drank a lot. I was usually the most functioning but equally influenced by the liquor. I struggle with porn especially while living with my friend. She knew about my problem, but we didn't treat porn like a problem. It was just a way to relieve tension in our bodies. She would always have a male to get her sexual favors from and even lingering associations with some.

I on the other hand would usually recede into porn and flirting online. It perverted my mind so badly that I could barely look at a man I found remotely attractive without seeing pornographic imagery in my mind.