My wife has, once again, reduced me to complete and utter speechlessness as I marvel at her way with the written word. But it's not just that. In writing about why she and I are so supportive of gay rights, she has somehow managed to approximate my own feelings as well. It's harder for me to speak them than it is for her. God only knows why, but it is. Perhaps it's a guy thing, perhaps it's a trying to save face thing. Whatever it is, it's part of me, and there it is. As much as I try to push beyond the comfort zone that traditional masculinity has surrounded me in, I am and will always be male. I don't know that I am even capable of writing about such naked emotions in a public forum.
But seriously, read this post. Everybody. I am so seriously proud of her. There are days that we don't always see eye to eye, and I may never learn to pick up my dirty clothes and put them in the basket two inches away from where I dropped them, but damn, I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be married to someone who dares to feel like that.
We would all be wise to try to feel even 1% of that. It's a scary thing, this feeling thing. As Judd Hirsch's character said in Ordinary People, "one thing about feeling - don't always expect it to tickle."
And it so rarely does.
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