There's a scene in the movie <em>The Exorcist</em> where the two priests talk about why the devil would choose to possess Linda Blair's character out of all the other people in the world. Max Von Sydow's character responds, "I think the point is to make us despair. To see ourselves as... animal and ugly. To make us reject the possibility that God could love us."

And that's the basis for all of my anguish and despair. All of my questions, my doubts, and my fears all boil down to this one fear: that God might not love me.

It happened in high school and college when I would cut myself on a regular basis.

It happened when I was engaged to Amy and couldn't be the man her family wanted me to be.

And it's been happening this week with my bisexuality. <em>How can God possibly love a faggot like me?</em>

Of course, it doesn't help that I've had people send me messages on Facebook telling me to turn away from sin and follow Jesus. I would love to, except that my bisexuality isn't just a behavior. It's who I am. Yes, I am more than just who I'm attracted to. I'm a writer, a Christian, a big brother, a son, a boyfriend, etc. But you see, my bisexuality isn't just some perverted fetish I can force myself to ignore. Believe me, I tried that, and it didn't work.

I hope this doesn't freak anybody out, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't been eying the razor blade this past week.

Last night before I went to bed I prayed that God would show me what to do. This morning I woke up to an encouraging Facebook message from a friend. As I read it I realized that I have to be myself. I can't pretend to be some one I'm not. If God tells me I need to change, then so be it. But for now, in this moment I'm proud to say that I am both queer and beloved. And if you can't love me and accept me for that, then don't let the door hit you on the way out. 