My therapist asked my goals and I said to be back with my wife in an intact relationship – back home. Afterwards I realized I had lied – to him and me. I had confused hopes and goals. My hope: to be in this house, at this desk, the noise of the TV coming from the next room, wife and kids finishing their show. But a hope is not a goal.
Carrie listens to my hopes and she sits there looking sad in a wistful way. She tells me – she always tells me – you cannot change who you are. She believes that my gay side will win out – oh that sad, wistful look. I am not as sure. But she is right on one count: what the goal must be.
My goal for this year is to understand who I am, why I am, and to find a level of comfort with myself. I need to come to my land of hopes and dreams, wherever that land may lie. And I still have my hopes.