Ten Top Things of Two Thousand Ten

(1) Bradley Cooper

(2) Performing in the SCERA's production of "Funny Girl"

(3) Getting a really good job

(4) Robert Pattinson

(5) Learning a how to budget--a little

(6) Making mistakes

(7) Jake Gyllenhal

(8) Going to New York City

(9) Getting accepted into the Theatre Education Major at BYU-Provo

(10) Watching my niece grow up

The "Life After" posts will continue as normal soon.

The Life After--Part Five--Jonathan and Friends Part 1

After my freshman year of college concluded, I saw that it was needful for me to obtain another place of residence.

My best girl friends both lived in a singles complex next to Gold's Gym. I loved hanging out with them and I thought that it would be great if I moved closer to them--since we were spending every single day and night together. We were all inseparable--and to this day, I love those two girlfriends more than anything in the world.

I moved into my new apartment and I was excited to get to know my new roommates. As I was walking down the hall to my room carrying an armful of clothes and other sundries, I bumped into Jonathan.

"Hey!" He shouted. "I'm Jon."

I was a little caught off-guard. He was pretty friendly.

"Hey," I said and tried to free my hand to shake his.

"Oh, don't worry about it. We can get to know each other later."

Jon turned and walked down the hall and out the front door.

Strange, I thought. He was friendly. Maybe a little too friendly. I distinctly remember the "Twilight Zone" theme start to play. However, Jon seemed like he was a smart and happy guy. He was tall, lean and had a great smile.

"Meh," I said and continued to unpack. "It's probably nothing. I mean, what are the chances of living with a gay guy, right?"

Later that night, as I was just finishing up my move, I heard a loud commotion coming from the living room. It sounded as if there was Frat party going on. There were shouts, screams, and...giggles of delight?

I ran/walked to the front room to be greeted by about 7 shirtless guys. Jonathan was in the middle of them and they were all just hanging out.

"Andy!" Jon exclaimed,"What to go swimming with us?"

I blushed. "Oh," I stammered. "I...can't. I don't have a swimsuit."

One of the guys perked up. "Well, you don't need one, do you?"

They all laughed.

"Well," Jon continued. "If you want to come and join us, you are more than welcome."

"Okay," I quickly replied. "Have fun!"

With that, the Shirtless Seven dashed out the door and to the complex swimming pool. As they did, I crossed to the balcony window to watch them run with glee and jump into the warm waters. Were they all gay? They seemed like it. But, I mean...don't straight guys play together in the pool? I laughed out loud. No, straight guys don't "play" in the pool together at all.

Later that night, I learned a little more about the friends that Jon invited over and who Jonathan was. It wouldn't be until a few months later that Jonathan became more than just a roommate or good friend to me. He would become something much more...

~End Part 5

The Life After--Part Four--A Matis Fireside

The Nerf gun fight quickly ended.

The next Monday, Nate had invited me to go to a Matis Fireside. For those of you who don't know what they are, they are firesides for Mormon Homosexuals--Moho's. They are held in Lehi at the Stake Center every second Sunday of every month.

Nate would already be in Lehi, so I had to get a ride from someone else. Luckily, Ty was available and he said that he would be able to give me ride to the fireside. We headed to Lehi. Since he was a prominent figure at the fireside, he told me that he wouldn't be able to stay by my side. I told him that that was fine.

We drove up to the chapel and went inside. I looked for Nate, but he wasn't there. So, I had to sit alone. Which was fine; I got a chance to scope out who came to these kinds of meetings.

It was interesting. I saw men with their wives, I saw some men holding hands together, I saw a lot of hugging, I saw some younger men about my age and I saw some women as well. It was an eclectic group of people; a group that I had not expected. Brian was there, too. But he was sitting with a group of friends and I didn't want to bother him.

So, I sat alone and watched the fireside.

When it was over, we all headed over to the Matis's home for some refreshments.

I was hugged. A lot.

To tell you the truth, I was very overwhelmed. It was the first time in my life that I had been around so many other guys who liked other guys. I was afraid that there would be those who would try to "hook-up" with me. I was afraid that there would be those who would want to get to know me better. I honestly wasn't ready for the experience.

I wanted to go home.

Luckily for me, Brian had to leave early and offered me a ride. I was nervous to ride home with him because (1) I didn't know him (2) He was--gasp!--gay and (3) I thought he was really attractive.

When he dropped me off at my apartment, I leaned over to give him a hug. Since I had been around so much hugging at the Matis fireside, I just assumed that hugging was how gay LDS guys greeting and said goodbye to each other.

He stopped me.

"We don't have to hug," he said and extended his hand.

I shook it and walked into my apartment.

Oddly enough, that one simple line of "We don't have to hug" prevented me from going to any more Matis firesides for three years. I love contact with other people--especially guys. I didn't think that there would be anything wrong with trying to hug a fellow MoHo. Sadly, his "rejection" of my offer to hug him really hurt me. I don't know why...it just did.

I do not blame Brian, but I blame myself. I thought I was being too forward. I thought that he thought I was weird. I thought that, because he didn't want to hug, that no one other gay Mormon would want to hang out with me.

Thankfully, I got over it. But, it took a very long time.

During those three years, however, I would come to learn more about myself, roommates, more about the secret MoHo world, and the detrimental affects of alcohol.

~End Part Four

The Life After--Part Three--The Underground

I thought that I would never see Nate again. I knew that he had an interesting time on our last "date" by simply seeing that I wasn't ready to be in the real world.

However, Nate was kind enough to let me "lay low" for about two weeks. We still emailed and spoke on Facebook. During that time, I started my BYU Freshman experience--as a 21 year-old.

Regardless of being in all classes with freshman, I had a good time. I met some nice people, but, none of them had my type of humor or attitude. I needed some good, solid, theatre friends to hang out with. But that's another story. Let's focus on the Utah Valley Moho Underground.

Nate and I decided to hang out again. He picked me up at my new apartment and we drove to his place. He lived in a new development near the edge of the mountain in Southern Provo. As we were pulling up, he said, "Now, Andy. I didn't tell you this before, but I live with 4 other gay Mormon guys. So...just don't get weirded out."

"Okay..." I said.

He put the car in park and turned it off. As I got out of the car, Nate headed to the front steps of the condo--where there were apparently 4 other gay people living there. I was shocked, to say the least. I thought that all gay Mormon boys were trying to live a nice, celibate lifestyle. I was sure that to live with other gay people would spell trouble.

The condo was nice--very nice. Granite counter tops, vaulted ceilings, stainless steel appliances--and it was spotless. Of course 4 gay men lived here. It was meticulously decorated and smelled nice, too. Hmmm, I thought. Maybe this isn't so bad.

Nate showed me around the house and showed me his bedroom, which he shared with Brian*. Brian seemed like a nice guy.

He then showed me the living room. As I turned the corner, there sat the poster child of same-gender attraction for LDS men. It was Ty.

By this time, Brian and Nate were chatting it up about some new jean and looking through a magazine of GQ. Nate seemed like he was ignoring me. So, I sat down on the couch opposite Ty. He was watching Animal Planet.

"So...." I said, occasionally glancing back at Nate and Brian. "Do you live here, too?"

Ty laughed. "No, but I own the place. I'm down here for a conference."

"Oh, cool." I said, looking at the ground.

"How do you know Nate?" He asked.

"Um, we met online about two years ago on the message board for LDS SSA guys. I just got back home from my mission. We were in pretty good contact even though I was halfway across the world."

He wryly smiled. "Cool."

By this time, I could tell that Ty was more interested in the plants and animals on the screen, so I got up and went back to the kitchen where Nate and Brian and proceeded to find toy Nerf guns and start shooting them at one another.

I tried to join in, but...I was still trying to put together all the information of gay LDS guys living together that, and I wasn't really having fun.

"DUCK!" Shouted Nate.

"Where?" I asked.

FWOOM! A Nerf bullet smacked me in the head.

"Oh, it's on!" I shouted.

~End Part Three

My parents may be separating...

Long story short: My mom told me today that my dad and her had talked about separating for a while. I didn't know what to say to her so, I didn't say too much of anything.

This is coming as quite a shock to me. I never thought that my parents would have separated, ever.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think.

I wish I was back home in Provo so I could be held by one of you guys. I'm really scared.

A kind of Hellish Christmas...

Hey guys and gals,

I'll be posting more of my series later on this week. I'm with my family right now...and oh boy, is that fun.

There are two things that make me hate going home for Christmas with my family.

(1) My mother is in an eternal power struggle with my little sister. My mom tries to be the queen of the household, and my little sister tries to be the queen of the household and their personalities clash constantly. For me, its sad and breaks my heart. But, I know that as my little sister gets older (she's almost 18) and as my mother grows older and their relationship pulls apart that it will get more "normal". But, what is normal anyway?

(2) My parents, more importantly my mother, loves her grandchild. My older sister has a daughter with another child on the way. My mom makes things for my niece, spends times with her, etc.

I may never get to please my parents with grandchildren. If I stay single, I won't have any kids. If I get a partner and we adopt, I know my mom wouldn't want me over at the house, so...it's just kind of depressing.

Furthermore, I watched as my parents looked lovingly at my older sister and her husband cuddle on the couch with their daughter. I know I can never have that. It won't happen. Maybe...if I were to get a partner, that in 20 years, when my parents are on their deathbeds that they would come around to the idea. I just know that I wouldn't be accepted in my parents home. I know, because I've asked them and that's what they've told me.

Meh...anyway...I don't want to sound depressed on such a joyous day! I just want to me able to find my own happiness.

The Life After--Part Two--Meeting Nate

Throughout my entire mission, I had been in contact with a fellow Moho. His name was Nate*. We had met on an online support group about a year prior to my leaving the states. We emailed each other regularly. There was even one moment that we chatted on MySpace.

When I got home, he was one of the first people I got into contact with. He was my age, tall and had blonde hair. I shot him a quick email to let him know that I got home safely. Over that short week, we talked a little and chatted online some more. We eventually decided to go on a date when I got into Utah.

Since I was only home for one short week, I didn't unpack. We threw everything into the van and headed to Provo, UT.

It was a 12 hour trip. Just my mother and I.

I talked mainly about the mission: the joys, the heartache, the hardships, etc. I vaguely remember talking about homosexuality and where I stood. I did not tell my mother that I was planning on meeting up with Nate when we arrived at my Aunt's house.

When we finally got into town, I immediately ran to my cousin's computer to see if he had responded to my last email. I opened up my Hotmail account. Yes! He had written back!

"ANDY! Ok, i think I'm going to be in Provo tonight, if you want to hang out call my cell at 801.xxx.xxx after 7:30. I'll send this to you on facebook too, anyway.... yeah, call me if you can hang out. Or maybe we can hang out tomorrow if tonight doesn't work out."

I nearly peed. I was going to "hang out" with Nate! And...everyone knows that "hanging out" is the equivalent of going on a date.

I wrote back.

"Yeah, we can probably do something tonight. I don't know what we would do. There's not much to do on a Sunday. I am going to have some more family over here. How long are you staying up here?"

He responded.

"Up here? erm, I'm going to be going to spanish fork to check on my mom's cats in a couple. how about this afternoon? I can do anything from now until around 10ish. we can make some cookies or something at my house. anywyay. give me a call when you can get away."

I was free that night. I gave him a quick call and he picked me up at my Aunt's house. It was the first time we had ever met in real life. As I walked to his car, my heart was pounding. I had always been attracted to him--even it was online. But, I was an awkward returned missionary. How could he ever find me attractive?

I opened the car door, and sat down. I turned to look at Nate.

"Welcome home, Elder Artaxerxes."

I laughed. "Thanks."

He reached over and gave me a quick hug.

"So," he said. "What do you want to do?"

He, with his blonde hair and blue eyes, looked back. He smiled.

I was so nervous that I couldn't really speak.

He chuckled a bit. "How about we just go for a drive?"

"Yeah," I said without paying attention, "...a drive sounds...nice."

He started the car and we went for a drive.

Honestly, I cannot remember a single thing that we talked about. Internally, I was waging a huge battle between all the thoughts of still "being a missionary" and what my body and mind were wanting, and what the church wanted, and what my parents would think, and if someone found out I went on a date with a guy, and--

"Andy?" Nate asked, pulling me out of the battlefield. "Are you okay?"

I had to be honest. "I...just...don't know what I want right now."

He smiled a small smile. "Well, you did just get off the mission, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I replied.

He sighed. "Well. I don't want to make any of this harder than it needs to be. I'll take you back."

He turned around. I took a deep breath. I didn't know what to do. At every street corner we passed, the light cast a wonderful glow on his hair. He was just...great. But, I knew that my parents would be very disappointed in me if they knew I was on a date with another guy.

When we reached my Aunt's house, I simply said, "Thanks for the drive. It was great to finally get to meet you."

I could tell he was a little disappointed.

"Yeah, it was..."

I shut the door.

I thought that that experience with Nate was going to be last one with him. But, I was wrong. I saw him again the next week, and learned much more about myself and the secret underground gay Provo scene.

The Life After--Part One--Customer Service

My mission ended as quick as it had begun--or, so it felt.

The last night before leaving the mission was one of the strangest nights I've ever experienced. I lay awake in my bed, shaking uncontrollably. I was shaking for fear of the future, the excitement of going home, the opportunities that lay ahead, the friends I would hope to make, and the life that would finally be mine to live.

I remember sitting on the plane going from Lisboa to London, and watching my home for the last 2 years, slowly shrink away. I shed a few tears of sadness, but, they were quickly ebbed as I thought again of the new life that I was given.

Immediately upon returning home, my parents took me to Chili's. I had never actually been to Chili's before, so it was exciting for two reasons: (1) Because I had never been there before and (2) I was so ready to eat a classic All-American cheeseburger and fries.

When we got entered the restaurant, I was shocked by how clean it was. The floor was shiny, the air smelled great, and there were absolutely zero flies. It was nice. Sitting down, our waitress came to the table. I was still in missionary attire, and my little brothers and sisters kept on asking me hundreds of questions. The waitress was taking our drink order.

When she finally was ready to take my order I asked, "How much are re-fills of Diet Coke?"

She looked back at me with a blank stare.

"Ummm...re-fills are free."

I was shocked. "Really? Wow. Okay, great! I'll have a Diet Coke, then."

She smirked a little and went off to go get our drinks. My family burst out in laughter.

I was a little confused. "What's so funny?"

My little brother, Alex, chimed in. "Re-fills are free, dummy."

I had completely forgotten! We're in America now, dumbass! I thought. The "land of the free" and the "home of the free re-fills"! Our waitress came back with our drink and set it down. As quick as I could, I chugged the entire drink before she had finished setting down the drinks.

She looked at me as if I has some strange soda fetish.

"I-I'll get you another one," she said, crossing the restaurant.

My family was staring at me.

"What? I have to get my money's worth."

They laughed again. The entire night was filled with questions from my little brothers and sisters, some side stories of what happened--minus the homo-erotic ones--and just good, all-around Artaxerxes fun.

When we left, I asked my dad to give the waitress a substantial tip.

"Why?"

"Because she was amazing."

My older sister rebutted. "She wasn't that good, Andy."

Again, the shock came. "Are you serious? I mean, come on! She gave us drinks and stuff..."

I thought for a moment. I guess my older sister was right.

I just wasn't used to good customer service. In Portugal, you're lucky to get a full can of soda when you eat at a restaurant. In Portugal, people don't really say please and thank you. And, they never tip. Ever. It's a cultural thing. I remember when I tried to give a sandwich lady a tip. She looked at the Euro in my hand like it was carrying the black plague. She refused it.

Anyway, we left Chili's and we headed to the hotel to stay the night.

After my first night in a real bed, we headed home and I was released from being a missionary. I started watching all the movies I missed out on, reading all the books that I missed, catching up on TV shows, and eating too much American food.

One short week after returning home, I was shipped off again to BYU.

And that, my friends, is when everything changed.

~End Part One 

Getting ready for the new series...

Hey guys and gals,

Cover page of my research paper.

Thank you for the overwhelming response to my recent blog posts! I am glad you enjoyed reading about my mission as much as I did writing it. It was a little painful to bring up some old wounds and some stories I thought I would never share...but it was cathartic and worth it.


Now, I'd like to share with you my research paper. I'm not going to post it in sequential segments, but to find a PDF version of the paper, click here. 


Starting later today or early tomorrow morning, there will be a new series. It will be interesting, strange and steamy--to say the least. So, stay tuned.


Have a super happy Tuesday! Merry Chrismashanakwansa!

My Mission--Part 12--Telling the President

After that memorable bus ride, I had made up my mind that I would tell my mission president as soon as I can.

Like stated previously, my district leader had suggested that I talk to my mission president about the rough time with Elder Van Ackerman when he came down for the District Conference. Since we had the training on a Friday, my mission president was coming down the next day and Sunday.

On Saturday, I wrote the following in my journal:

"Tomorrow, I have an interview with presidente terry about my struggles. I do not know what the outcome should be. I have not been very open with him, but I feel as if he needs to know. In the pamphlet [God Loveth His Children] it said that we need to confide in our ecclesiastical leaders. I have not been doing that. I am afraid that I will get sent home. But, if I get sent home, it will be the will of the Lord, for president terry is His chosen leader here in the mission. I personally feel as if I shall not be sent home, but it is possible. I just don't think so because even though a member struggles with SSA, he or she can still serve in the church and receive callings.

I am, every day, getting to a new point in my life. I am learning how to accept who I am and accept the will of the Lord."

After the district conference, I had to wait a while before the members had all spoken with President Terry. By the time he had finished with all of them, he was tired and ready to head back to his home in the capitol--5 hours away.

I entered into the small room in the chapel where he was holding "interviews".

"Elder Artaxerxes," he said calmly. "How are you?"

By this time, I was a 21 year old missionary--seasoned and honest. I knew I shouldn't beat around the bush with something like this.

So, I took a deep breath. I quickly told him the horrible--yet satisfying--transfer I had with Elder Van Ackerman. I then paused for one moment and then said,

"I also struggle with same-gender attraction."

His face went blank and his eyes went wide. Then, a warm spirit pervaded the room. A sort of "sad" smile crossed his face.

"Elder Artaxerxes," he said. "Thank you for telling me. I know how hard this must have been for you to come to me to divulge information such as this. I am sorry that you have to deal with this while serving a mission. However, I know that through the Atonement of Christ, you can continue on with your Earthly journey and be accepted by God and by others."

I wanted to shout, "WHAT?! Really? That's it?"

Instead, I calmly said, "Thanks, Presidente Terry. I needed that."

It was true. I did need to hear what he said. God was accepting of me? What? And others? Did he somehow know that I had told other elders? I mean, wow. This was not the reaction I was expecting.

I left the interview feeling elated. I was on Cloud 9. I was so happy to be told that God loved me. I was glad to hear that I wasn't broken, diseased, or wrong. Most importantly, I was ecstatic that I wasn't being sent home!

The next transfer, I was moved from Faro to Lisbon and ended my mission there.

One of my last journal entries beautifully tied together all the emotions that I was feeling.

"It is so strange, realizing that it is all over. For the past 2 years the mission has been the only thing on my mind. I have eaten, slept, and drunk the gospel for 2 years. And now, it's over and I actually have to start living my life...I am excited and ready to go home. I thought that I would be sadder to leave, but I am not. True, I will miss Portugal and the people I have met here, but I believe that God has prepared me to go back home. I feel the same way I did when I left for the mission: excited and ready to start a new phase of life."

~ End of Series

What should I write about next?

What should I write about next?

The LDS Church Inviting Gays to Concerts?

Yes. That is right. 


The LDS Church invited Dustin Lance Black, Bruce Bastian, and other GLBT activists to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert tonight. 


Dustin Lance Black is the screenwriter who won an Oscar for his film, "MILK". 


Bruce Bastian was married in the LDS temple, served a mission, and after coming out, decided to leave the Church. He is now a social activist for the rights of GLBT people everywhere. 


This is pretty cool that the Church invited them to the annual Christmas program. 


Is the Church making progress? Was this a publicity stunt?


What do you guys think? 

My Mission--Part 11--The Bus Ride That Changed My Life

The companionship/relationship between Elder Van Ackerman and I moved slowly. There were still days that we fought. Change takes a long time. However, Elder Van Ackerman tried his hardest to be the best he could.

We talked about life and school and my attraction to men. He even introduced me to "God Loveth His Children"--which surprised me.

One week, however, it seemed as everything good that happened to us was for naught. We fought every day that week. On that Friday, we had a special Zone Leader training in the capitol--5 hours away by bus.

We sat next to each other in the bus, but not in the seats next to each other. I was livid. I was stressed. I was nervous. I couldn't focus. Earlier that week, I had planned on telling my mission president of my attractions to guys, and how crappy this one transfer had been with Elder Van Ackerman. I was scared that I would be sent home from the mission--so soon to ending.

We had the training, and I felt horrible the entire time. No one was talking to me. I feared that "my secret" had reached all ears by then. I felt as if they were avoiding me--even elders that I knew from the MTC weren't speaking with me. I found myself alone at one point in the chapel, and just feeling like shiz.

The training ended.

Elder Van Ackerman took his precious little time hanging out with the other elders before we had to catch our train to the bus station.

"Elder," I said interrupting his conversation. "We're going to be late."

"Just a few more minutes," he said.

"Elder. We'll miss our train."

He turned and exasperatingly said, "Just wait."

I was furious! We were going to miss our train, making us miss our bus, which would make us get home at around 3:00 AM.

So, I decided to put this all on his shoulders and I spitefully waited.

When he was finally done, he said to me, "Now, come on--let's hurry." He started to run to the train station. I walked. If he was making me late earlier, I was going to make him late.

Long story short--we missed our train by an hour. We had to catch the 9:00 PM train to the bus station. When we finally got to the bus station at 10:00, I was fuming and very close to a breakdown. I tried to not speak; I knew that if I did, only tears and words of frustration would come out.

I was frustrated with my companion. I was frustrated with myself--I felt like a failure, that no one liked me. I felt far away from the Savior and God. I felt worthless.

Elder Van Ackerman could tell that something was up. Duh.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," was all I could muster.

We entered the bus. There was only one other person headed to Faro that evening...plus the bus driver.

I headed to the back of the bus and sat down. This time, Elder Van Ackerman sat next to me. We were both silent for about one hour. Thoughts of being sent home rattled through my mind. My palms were sweating. I couldn't stop thinking how bad that would be; for myself, my family. I also couldn't stop thinking about how horrible this transfer had been. What a waste of time it had been. I felt so...broken.

Elder Van Ackerman nudged my shoulder. "Please talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it."

"It wasn't all you," I replied. "It was a combination of you, my attractions, my fears of telling Presidente Terry...and the whole training experience."

"What happened there?"

"Well, I just feel as if I have no more friends in the mission."

He sighed, "I feel that way too. Sometimes--"

Interjecting, I said, "But...it's different for me. You can have friends, and you don't have to worry about being attracted to them. It's so hard. I hate feeling like this. I hate feeling all alone."

"You're not alone, Elder. You have the Lord."

"He's not with me."

Elder Van Ackerman sat back and thought. I could tell he was gathering ideas on how to respond to my dejected spirit.

He began. "Remember that one time Presidente Terry spoke about feeling the arms of the Lord around as we we're working?"

I nodded.

"Well, I don't beleive that He is strictly there for our protection in bad areas. We can feel the arms of the Savior whenever we need them."

I took a deep breath. Feeling the warm embrace of the Spirit, or being held physically by a man was something that I yearned for. "If I could feel the arms of the Lord around me just once, I would die a happy man."

I started to weep. It was as if a floodgate of tears, shame, and emotions had just been opened.

Elder Van Ackerman lovingly wrapped his arms around me in a sweet embrace. He held me tightly as I cried onto his shoulder like a small child. I sobbed and sobbed. He held me for what seemed like hours. He just kept whispering, "It's alright, it's alright," as he rubbed my back. It felt so good to be held like that.

"Thank you," I said, sniffling.

"It's alright, Elder. It happens."

"You're a good man," I said. "Oh, I made your arm all wet." I started wiping the tears away.

"Don't worry about it."

I smiled and laid back in my chair. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

We didn't get home until 3:15 AM that morning. But, the entire trip was worth it. I was able to purge those emotions through weeping. I was able to feel the arms of love around me. I felt refreshed. I felt new again. I was reborn--our relationship was reborn.

I was ready to tell Presidente Terry.

My Mission--Part 10--A Change of Heart?

Okay, I lied. This whole mission series is going to be a few more posts than 10. Sorry.

I never wanted to wake up any more. I wanted to sleep all day. I didn't want to fight anymore.

Our fights started when we woke up in the morning and until we went to bed at night.

They would range from me leaving soap in the sink after washing the dishes, to me listening to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" soundtrack, to me not washing my hands after leaving the restroom, to me not repeating word for word my phone conversations. Basically, this elder was a control freak and wanted me to do everything his way. It was like living in Hell.

One day, it all accumulated into the worst fight we'd ever had.

We were calmly discussing what we could do to stop fighting. We had tried fasting, we had tried doing divisions, we had tried eating better, we tried everything...but, nothing was working.

I then had an idea.

I took a breath. "When I first heard that I was going to serve with you, I was so excited. I had heard nothing of good things. I thought you were going to be my best friend." I paused. "What did you hear about me?"

He hesitated.

"Elder."

"Well," he started to say. "I just heard...bad things. Honestly, Elder Artaxerxes, when I heard that you were going to be my companion, I never prayed so hard in my life. Out of all the elders in the mission, you were the one who I didn't want to serve with."

How ironic, I thought. He was the one who I wanted to serve with the most, and I was the one he didn't want to serve with.

"Well, it seems to me as if you had a bad attitude from the start."

He stopped me. "Elder Artaxerxes. I never wanted to serve with you because of the things that I heard."

"What did you hear?"

"I don't want to say." He paused.

I sat silently, waiting for him to answer.

"I just knew that I didn't want to serve with you, and so far, my assumptions have been correct. For that, I don't love you as a companion. I could never love you. Ever."

I was stunned. I had never been told that someone couldn't even love me with...simple, Christlike love. In that moment, I gave up. I stopped trying. I stopped trying to love him. I stopped trying to serve with him. It was over. I was done. I was through.

That night, I called my district leader and told him what was going on. He expressed love to me and encouraged me to talk with Presidente Terry when he would be down in our zone the next Sunday for a District Conference.

Over the course of the following days, I didn't speak with my companion voluntarily. We stayed in the house or the chapel most days as we were too offensive with each other to even go out and knock a single door.

One morning, after personal study time, Elder Van Ackerman pulled up his chair next to mine.

Oh, great. I thought. What now?

He handed me a folded up slip of paper. I opened it. It simply said, I'm sorry for hurting you. With love, Elder Van Ackerman.

I turned to him. He had tears in his eyes.

I struggled to speak.

He continued. "I'm so sorry. You've been so...good to me..and I was blind to it. I...just...wanted to say sorry. Please forgive me."

"Elder Van Ackerman," I stated simply. "When you told me that you could never love me, that hurt. It tore me up inside. For me, if someone tells me...especially a guy...that they don't love me...well, that really hurt."

He choked back a sob. "Why?"

This was it, I told myself. Here we go again. By now, I had become very comfortable with my sexuality. I had told some more elders on my mission and they were all okay with.

"Well, to put it bluntly, I experience same-gender attraction, and...I really need some good, solid healthy 'man-love' in my life."

He stopped. I was nervous for his reaction.

"Oh," he said in between sniffles. "Is that all?"

I sighed. "Yup."

He wheeled his chair over and wrapped his arms around me. "You're a good man, Elder Artaxerxes."

I struggled not to cry. What the hellsies was happening? Was the demon that possessed him on a coffee break or something?

He broke the hug and went back to his studying.

What had caused this mighty change of heart? I struggled to find out the answer--but couldn't.

I slowly started to gain respect for this elder again.

The next week, however, would bring a new conflict that would strengthen my testimony and solidify and repair our broken companionship forever.

My Mission--Part 9--Coming Out Cont'd (and a Taste of Hell)

After I told one of my best friends from the mission, my life got easier. I was no longer burdened with the weight of my sexual identity. And, every day was so much fun!

In my mission--and in most missions--the elders would play a game. Traditionally, if you saw a hot girl, you would rate her by number, saying something between 1-10, 10 being the highest. Now, after telling my companion that I was attracted to guys, he would whisper, "Number?", when we would pass an attractive guy. I would give the number and we would move on. He would rate the girls and I would rate the guys. It was pretty funny.

That companion and I were only together for one transfer.

I then continued my mission as normal. Life went on. I went to different areas, met new people, had amazing experiences, and loved every second of it.

When my mission was coming to an end, I new that I would be "promoted" to Zone Leader. Each time there are transfers, elders try to guess who's going to what area. Most of the elders in my zone and district all placed their bets on me being transfered to Faro, the farthest south you could go on the mission.

On the day of transfers, I got a call from my mission president. They were right.

I was being transferred to Faro to be a Zone Leader.

My mission president continued, "You'll also be serving with Elder Van Ackerman."

"What?!" I exclaimed with joy. "Are you serious?"

I had thought he had left the mission already. He was a great guy. I had only heard good things about him.

President chuckled, "Well, I'm glad that you like him already. You two should work very well with each other."

"Obrigado, Presidente!"

The next day, I packed up my bags and took the 5 hour bus and train ride to Faro, Portugal. Since I was serving up north, I wasn't ready for such a humid and hot climate. Stepping out of the train, the heat hit me like a ton of bricks. I immediately started sweating, even though I was just standing there.

I looked around to see if my companions was waiting for me. I didn't see any tall German-American with a white shirt and tie anywhere. So, I sat down and waited.

And waited....

And waited some more...

I finally went to a payphone and called the mission office to see if they could give my companion a call.

About one hour later, my companion walks up with two other elders.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Elder Van Ackerman!"

He ran over and gave me a big hug.

"How's it going, Artaxerxes?"

"Great! I've just got here, so...you're right on time!" (lying never hurt anyone)

"Well, let's head back to the apartment, unpack, and then we've gotta go; we have some appointments tonight."

I was stunned.

"We...have...investigators here?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Why wouldn't we?"

I was so excited to be serving in an area with real-life investigators! I guess they weren't fiction after all!

We trudged back to our apartment; all the other elders carrying my bags for me. Wow! I thought. These are all great missionaries. I am going to love it here.

Walking up four flights of stairs and entering our apartment, I was shocked of its size. We had three bedrooms--one for sleeping, one for studying, and one for exercising. We had a full kitchen and a full bathroom. It was nice.

I unpacked my things and we headed off to teach.

We were a bit ahead of schedule, so Elder Van Ackerman decided to give me a tour of the Church meeting house.

I nearly peed when I saw it.

"You mean..." I gasped, "...you mean...it's a real chapel!? Not...a basement apartment converted into one?!"

"Yes, sir," he said.

I started laughing. This was great!

"Now," he stopped, opening the door. "There's just one thing that I need to do here and then we'll go."

We went to a back room. It was dark and kinda scary.

"Ummm...you're not going to rape me are you?" I jokingly said, trying to ease the mood.

He stopped. "Elder. That is not missionary language."

"Oh. Sorry."

We entered a room. It looked like the family history library.

He turned on a computer and sat down. I pulled up a chair next to him.

He took a breath and said, "We've got a very special project we're working on for Presidente and Irma Terry. We're making a photo book with pictures of all the areas in the mission, all the elders and sisters, and everything else. It's a pretty big surprise and a secret. And...we're the ones in charge of putting it all together."

He opened Microsoft Word and started adding more images, text, etc.

I watched him throw everything together. It seemed haphazard and it honestly didn't look good at all.

I sighed.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked.

"Well...I just think...that...um...that picture should go over there and not there, " I said pointing to screen.

He scoffed. "How about no?"

"Okay, well, this is your project, not mine. I just wanted to give some insight."

He scoffed again. "Well, I don't need it Elder Artaxerxes. You can just go read your scriptures or something while I do this."

I was shocked. "Wow. Our first fight." I pretended to whimper.

He turned to look at me. His face was stone cold. "It won't be our last," he whispered. "Now, go read."

I couldn't believe it! All the great things that I had heard about this elder were false! What the hellsies was going on? Maybe he's just having a bad day, right? People are entitled to those.

I just didn't know in that moment, that this elder was going to have a bad day every day. Every single day of the week. At all times. All moments.

I had a little taste of Hell.

How did I know that this elder would become the only person I've ever hated--yet respected so much?

The next installment will cover my coming-out story to Elder Van Ackerman and our countless fights. In an up-coming post, I will go over what my mission president had to say about me being gay. Yup. I even came out to my president. Stay tuned.

My Mission--Part 8--Coming Out

Many of you may find the idea of coming out on the mission an interesting one. To me, however, it was necessary.

The first elder I told was a companion who grew very close to me in only one transfer. We were both going through a tough time--we hadn't seen any success in the field, our area religiously staunch, and we were both experiencing feelings of guilt and shame for not producing any fruits in what seemed a barren wasteland.

We had recently moved into a members home (they had moved back to Brazil). Since they were traveling by plane, they left their TV, DVD collection, CD collection and more. Me and my companion, as frustrated as we were with the unsuccessful area, turned to modern technology to alleviate us from our pain.

We would tract the majority of the day to slammed doors and spit on our backs, to come home to a world and people we were familiar with: Harry Potter, Jack Sparrow and Frodo awaited us on the television.

Through this time of rest and relaxation, I got to know this elder very well. Our thoughts were on ourselves and working the best we could in our circumstances. We talked about home, life, future jobs and goals. I learned who this elder was as a person and not as a missionary. We became close friends in such a short period of time.

One night, we were lying awake in our room, talking about something insignificant. The burden of homosexuality weighed heavily on my shoulders. I needed to tell someone who would understand and not judge me. Who better than a new friend who may have known me better than myself?

"Elder?" I asked. "Are you asleep yet?"

He yawned. "Not yet. "

"Um, I've been meaning to tell you something."

"What's up?"

"Ummm....it's kind of hard to put into words."

He laughed. "Do you want to sing it, then?"

Chuckling, I responded. "No. It's just...I'm afraid of what you'll think about me. I'd rather you guess than I tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Ahh, that's your job," I said. "Guess."

He sighed. "Alright." He thought for a moment. "You're pregnant!"

"Come on, be serious."

"Okay, okay," he thought again. "Are you..."

"Yes?" My heart was beating against the walls of my chest. I thought it might explode.

He cleared his throat. "Are you...gay?"

"Wow. On the second try? You're good."

He laughed, "Thanks."

"So, you're not surprised?"

He sat up in bed. "Are you serious? Hmmm...let me think: no! You don't have a girlfriend, you do theatre, you like to sing, you hate sports, you love 'chick-flicks', and you're too nice. I just put two and two together. It was pretty easy, actually."

"Seriously?!" I cried. "How long have you...'known'?"

"Meh," he said, "it was kind of obvious when you told me you've never even liked a girl to even try to kiss her."

"Oh, yeah!" I exclaimed, remembering when I told him that. "You're right!"

"Of course I am. "

"So, you don't think I'm...weird or anything?"

"Why would I think that? You're still Elder Artaxerxes, right? Why would this change anything?"

That simple statement floored me. Why would this change anything? He was right. I was still the same kind, caring and loving person. Just because I was attracted to men didn't make me less of a person.

"Elder," I said. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me."

"Don't sweat it. Just don't...start perving on me or anything."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that."

"What?!" He cried. "Am I not attractive? Am I...too fugly for you?!" He then commenced to throw himself on his bed and pretend to sob.

"Knock it off, you dork. You're just not my type."

He stopped immediately. "Oh, that's cool. Then, what is your type?"

I laughed. "We're not discussing this."

"Oh, come on!"

"Nope. Not gonna."

"Elder Artaxerxes!"

"My lips are sealed."

"Fine," he said. "Then I hate you forever."

"Good."

He laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You thought that I didn't know about you."

"Shut up."

Laying there in the darkness, I felt a weight being slowly lifted off of my shoulders. The experience was so easy, so care-free, and so...liberating.

As my thoughts started to die down, I took a deep breath and thanked the good Lord for my companion and the experiences we were sharing together. It was just what I needed.

Right before I fell asleep, I turned again to my companion and said, "Good night."

He jokingly replied.

"Good night...faggot."

I started laughing uncontrollably.

We didn't fall asleep until 3:30 that morning.

~End of Part 8

The next post will continue my coming out process in the mission field--to other companions, members, and my mission president. Stay tuned.

My Mission--Part 7--Philipe 2

Once the elders left to give the tour, I got to know Philipe pretty well. Over the next 6 months, we went from perfect strangers to best friends.

We called each other every night.

We saw each other every single day.

We hung out and went to visit castles, museums, etc, every single P-day. We even talked about living together after my mission--he, like myself, just got accepted to BYU.

We were inseparable.

I had always wondered if he was gay. He was friendly, outgoing, nice, and we were becoming something more than the standard relationship of elder/member...but...I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

One night, it was about 10:45 pm--15 minutes before we were to go to bed (elders in Portugal had a schedule from 7:00 AM to 11:00 PM). Our cell-phone starting ringing.

"I'll get it!" I shouted to my companion.

I ran to the phone and answered.

"Hey! How's it going?"

Philipe laughed. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else calls this late? Besides...caller ID. "

"Oh, right," he said.

"What's up?" I asked.

He paused. A heavy silence was on the other line.

"Philipe?...What's wrong?"

He breathed deep and sighed. "Well, there's this guy I know, and he works for me in my same department, and he's great and all, and everyone really likes him, and he...he came to me and...told me he liked me."

I took a deep breath. What was his reaction?

He paused and said, "I mean...I don't care if he's gay, you know...gay people don't bother me--"

"I know, right?" I interrupted him. "I mean, what's so wrong with them?"

"Nothing!" He laughed. "I think they're pretty cool, actually."

"Me too."

I had to stop. Over the past few months, we had been growing very close. I wanted to say I liked him. He didn't seem to mind gay people...did that mean he was gay?

"Philipe...there's something...that I...nevermind," I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

Philipe continued for me. "There's something that I want to tell you, too."

I took a sharp intake of breath. "What?"

It seemed like hours.

"Andy," he said, as was he custom of always calling me by my first name, "I...really, really like--"

The door opened behind me.

"Elder Artaxerxes? It's time for bed."

I turned to my companion. "Okay, okay...I'll be there in a minute."

"Now, Artaxerxes. Come on."

"Dude, Philipe, I...gotta go."

"Yeah...sure...I understand."

I hung up the phone.

After our companionship prayer, I lay silently in my bed, wondering what Philipe wanted to say to me. I know what I wanted to say to him, but I just couldn't bring myself to believe that he had feelings for me.

The next Thursday, I was transferred and didn't have contact with Philipe for a very long and painful time.

Leaving that area, I cried a little. I thought to myself, "There goes a good friend. A very good friend..."

*****
Two weeks when I got home from my mission, I found him on Facebook. His most recent status was, "I'm the happiest I've ever been."

I sent him a quick email, asking him how he'd been, why he was so happy, etc.

He responded, "Artaxerxes! It's been so long! Yeah, man, I'm super happy. I moved to San Francisco to go to school and got a boyfriend and everything..."

As happy as I was for him, I was deeply saddened for myself. "There went another option..."

I still talk to him occasionally. He left the Church, removed his name willingly, and is going to school in San Francisco still. I've often wanted to go visit, but secretly, I'm afraid of what old sparks will fly.

I think it best to let those sparks smolder and burn out.

~End Part 7

My Mission--Part 6--Philipe 1

Fast forward another few transfers.

I was in a new area, with a new companion. It was a large populated part of the city with many doors, two wards, and an area book chock-full of prospective investigators. I was excited and ready to start a new phase of my mission.

But, I didn't know that I would meet one of the most influential people in my life--Philipe*.

We met after a district meeting on a Monday morning. I was about to leave the chapel when I heard the Zone Leaders joking around with someone in English. I couldn't believe it! Was there a new elder? Was there a member who could speak English? I turned the corner to see who it was.

There was the two Zone Leaders and Philipe sitting in one of the pews of the chapel, joking around. Elder Jones, one of the zone leaders said, "Oh, hey Elder Artaxerxes, Elder Morris. What's up?"

"Not much," I said, "just leaving District Meeting."

"Nice," said Elder Jones.

"Dude, I remember district meetings, they were so boring!" Philipe said in a perfect American accent.

I stopped. What was going on? Philipe had olive skin, dark hair, a nice build, and...obviously a Portuguese.

I had to say something. "Ummm...where are you from?"

Philipe laughed. "Here."

"How did you learn how to speak English so well?"

"Dude, I served a mission....why would I know about how boring district meetings were?"

I nervously laughed. "Oh, right."

Insert awkward silence.

"Well," I coughed, "we've gotta go knock some doors or something unproductive like that. See ya."

Me and my companion left and started knocking doors, but I couldn't stop thinking about Philipe. He was Portuguese, attractive, snarky and funny. I had to see him again. He seemed like a pretty cool guy and...normal in the world of abnormal missionaries.

I knew that Philipe spent a lot of time with the Zone Leaders since he lived in their area. I told my companion that we needed to see if Philipe could do some splits with us and the zone leaders. We headed over to their area to see what we could do.

The Zone Leaders were actually in the chapel and Philipe was hanging out with them. Luckily, a stranger walked in asking some questions about the Church. The Zone Leaders took him on a tour of the chapel, leaving my companion and I with Philipe.

How did I know that in that moment, I would have my life changed by one man?

*name changed.

My Mission--Part 5--A Sad Memory

This is a continuation of Part 4--Death.

One of the family members moved aside and my eyes fell on the dead body of the husband. His wife (girlfriend) was hunched over him, sobbing and grabbing onto his lifeless arms.

I was speechless.

My first thought was, "Was this her answer to her fast?" The thought seemed preposterous.

After a few moments of initial shock, I simply stated, "If you need a free place to hold the funeral, you can have it at our chapel. We will prepare everything and get all you need if you'd like. I am so sorry. I don't know what to say."

My little missionary mind was reeling.

I then mustered out, "May I offer a prayer of console?"

All the family members nodded and bowed their heads.

My prayer was short and consisted of mainly asking for a blessing and feeling of comfort to be with family members and friends in this horrific and tragic time. As the prayer ended, the family members continued to weep for the loss of the father, son, brother and friend. We stayed until we had to leave--missionaries played an integral role in the sacrament meeting in the ward we were serving in.

We left, and I immediately called our district leader and zone leaders. We decided to plan a dinner for our investigators family and prepare a lesson of the importance and purpose of life.

On Tuesday the funeral was held. It was one of the saddest moments I have ever experienced in my life.

The body was lain in a tomb-like Catholic mortuary. He lay on a slab in the center of a room. Candles were lit everywhere and people were sobbing and crying over his body. Flowers were strewn at his feet and everyone was dressed in black. Some women had their faces veiled and some men were tearing the sky apart with their hands.

The wife asked me to say a few words. I hastily put together a message about the purpose of life and the purpose of death. I focused on the resurrection and the power that Christ had over death which allows us all to one day--essentially--come back from the dead. I bore a powerful testimony of the reality of the Savior and I ended the message.

The tomb was eerily silent. But, a warm feeling pervaded every corner. The wife was smiling and the others had stopped crying.

About an hour later, the actual burial occurred. It was the last time I saw that man as his casket was lowered slowly into the ground. The family members took fistfuls of sand and threw them onto the wood.

I looked at the wife and gave her a hug. She needed it. She cried a little more and whispered into my ear, "Obrigada."

The funeral ended. She came to church the next week.

The week after, I was transferred.

I never heard from her again.

~End Part 5

My Mission--Part 4--Death

Fast forward one full year into my mission.

I was serving with Elder Michaels--a regional champion in swimming, built, good personality and a great desire to preach the gospel.

I wasn't feeling the desire to work anymore. I had yet to see anyone of my investigators enter into the waters of baptism, and I felt like a failure for it. However, in this new area with Elder Michaels, we had the perfect family of investigators.

They were Brazilian, of course, and the wife and daughters were soaking every bit of the gospel we could give them. The husband/boyfriend wasn't feeling it. He would leave the room when we entered and he would only go to Church if his wife and daughters went. All in all, they were a happy family and we were hopeful to see them make changes in their lives to become even happier.

However, good things sometimes never last.

The wife began to have serious doubts about what she was learning. They stopped coming to church after she had a strange experience with the paranormal that frightened her--and us. We invited her to do a fast which, strangely enough, she was familiar with from her past religion. We asked to her to fast for some sort of sign or way for her to accept the gospel. The fast happened on a Saturday morning and was to end the following morning--Sunday.

That morning, a hazy rain fell. Me and Elder Michaels headed to their apartment. We rang the buzzer and the bottom entrance and immediately, the door unlocked. We rode the elevator to the 7th floor and walked to their door. Their daughters answered.

"Come in," the older one said.

I was confused. We were here to just pick them up for Church. Why did we need to come inside?

They obviously could see that we were both confused.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

From the corner, a woman I never saw before turned and had tears streaming down her forlorn face.

"You...you don't know?"

I stopped.

"Know...what?" I hesitated to ask.

She motioned for us to go down the hallway. I turned the corner and saw about a dozen people gathered around a bed. I saw feet covered by a blanket hanging over the edge.

As I neared to see who was on the bed, I prayed silently to myself.

~End of Part 4