Solar System of Relationships, Part I

It's so weird how life seems to tug you and those close to you in different directions at times. Like planets revolving around a sun, we move in different orbits at different speeds. At one point we are at our closest distance, and at another point we are at our furthest distance.

But sometimes, a comet, meteor, or some other enormous celestial body crashes into us; so powerful that we are pushed out of our natural orbits -- moving further and further away from each other. As I ponder and soul search, this is what I feel has happened to some of my friendships that have endured the ages. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but has been a concern for quite some time.

These catastrophic impacts have taken many names and forms. Marriage/romantic relationships; a souring economy; even the simple truth had a hand in watering down some of my most cherished friendships. Of course, it's obvious that when people enter relationships, they must reallocate their devotion, dedication, and other emotional resources to nourish a flowering union of two souls. It's also obvious that when the economy is not at its best, our wallets and purses are somewhat dried up -- and more work/less play is inevitable. But, one day, I realized that something else has crashed into some of my relationships and pushed their orbits a bit further apart -- and that's a comet known as "Truth".

Back during my "coming out" days, my single biggest fear was losing friends and family. I cherish and love them all... unconditionally. We'd piss each other off at times. We'd pick each other up when we were down. We'd share in all the good times and bad times. We'd even open up our hearts and expose our weaknesses in an attempt to form stronger bonds with each other. But in the back of my mind, I knew that revealing the fact that I'm gay to someone could take all of that which was built over decades and destroy it within seconds. Those closest to you can never see you the exact same way again, and you can never know the sheer terror and difficulty of revealing this truth unless, well, you are the one that has to do it.

Some people start with the planet that had the closest orbit. I didn't - my mother was the planet with the closest orbit to me, but she certainly wasn't the first one that was told. Yet, I knew she was the most important person in my life -- and I wanted to savor the moment before she exploded. It's such a weird vibe, because most gay/lesbian people have a sixth sense that someone close to them actually knows the truth -- but they are somehow caught in limbo and waiting for you to pull them out. The unknown factor is, how would they react once you did.

"You are still my son, and I still love you."
-My Mother

Revealing this most inner and intimate detail to her had unexpected results. You see, we never really did have mother-son talks that much. She doesn't wear her emotions on her sleeve, and most of the time, internalizes her thoughts, experiences, and emotions. That stuff was closed off to the world until that memorable spring day she called me and talked to me about it. Since then, her orbit was actually bumped closer to me, and we've been a lot more like brother and sister since.