In continuing to believe, that it is good for me to suppress the truth that I am gay, I feel that my body physically carries a railway sleeper attached to my shoulders everyday of my life.

I know that to be open with the world, that is with my family and friends, would be to reduce my burden, even if I never experienced what it is like, to express myself physically and emotionally with another man.

This seems strange, but I am approaching the start of my old age, the remaining harvests of my life are few and yet I procrastinate, I wobble, I mourn, I grieve, I suffer because I have agreed to remain hidden to save my marriage.

Dolor, dolor, dolor.

So where is the “y gloria?”

I have been robbed of my faith because I feel abandoned, I practise my faith and sometimes when the flame flickers, I hope and I pray that I am seen and that I will be liberated from my prison.

I have moments when I can still grasp at a belief in an after-llife and a heaven, but this earth has been for me a living hell and I don’t understand why, because I am a good boy, really I am.

dolor

y

gloria

Pain and Glory. Earth and Heaven, Lies and Truth.

Please God, liberate my soul from this angusih:

• have you not seen my pain?,
• must I wait to see you in heaven, before your glory is revealed?

My pain, is a self-infliction, it is a slave to fear, it has at its core a willingness to sacrifice self, for the needs of someone else who wants me parcelled as purchased all those years ago.

Why does such incredible strength , feel like such incredible weakness?

Perhaps it is because, whatever I have done in my life has been achieved despite the unbearable burden, its weight is invisible because it has been assumed into my body and my mind and it has become my pain and my glory, my sacrifice of truth, for the hope of peace.

William Defoe