Plot twist: my old roommate, whose opinion I trust about this stuff, agrees with the guy. And says, "I don't think he is calling you a bigot. You are turning this into a personal thing when it isn't." They all agree. Everyone has been sitting here watching me embarrass myself on this stupid mailing list. I can't decide if all of my friends are jerks, or I need to learn to deal with arguments better. Maybe the second one. My immature feeling about this is, "I never call you out on the stupid shit you do and say, so why can't you just leave me alone to hate myself in peace?"
I need to work on that meditating thing. I am having a lot of conversations lately that make me realize I have a deeply weird brain. And I think this friend has a deeply weird brain in an opposite way. He is a man with remarkable control of his self and his mind. I am not. I am one of those guys Keith and Ash don't like, who has trouble doing things.
The ironic thing is, ever since that Chicago Adventure I have felt a lot better about this kind of stuff. I suppose it was bound to wear off eventually. It was, frankly, a kind of life-changing realization when I came back and... none of my friends laughed at me, or told me I was stupid. My dad didn't say "I told you so." I did not feel humiliated and rejected. I felt proud, and like I wanted to tell people about this cool thing I did. The roommate I normally argue with a lot told me he was really impressed, because he didn't think I had it in me. My mom hugged me and told me about her worst breakup. No one thought I was a fuck-up.