Hate on Both Sides
I hate it.
I hate knowing that one day I may go out in public, and I may hold hands with a girl, and that will be dangerous. That will be taking a chance. That could get me killed.
When we're children, a message that's drilled into our brains is "be yourself."
"No matter what anyone says, you should be youself!"
"You're perfect the way you are!"
That, and "Don't hate others for being different!"
It obviously doesn't work, because they aren't talking about love. They're talking about dressing differently, or having a different hobby, or liking a different type of music. They aren't considering those little boys who look at the TV and see their favorite characters flirting with girls. They aren't considering the little girls who play house where there's always a mommy and a daddy, just like in the story books. They aren't considering the kids who grow up thinking they're wrong, scared because the way they feel is never shown in anything they ever have seen. It's different. It's wrong. They're different. They're wrong. Their feelings are wrong because their feelings are never shown.
I denied it for such a long time. I'm straight, of course I am. I don't hate gay people, but I'm straight. It hurt when I first talked to a girl at hotel breakfast and thought She's cute. I'd never see her again, we were both travelling away from home, so I dared have that thought and I dared hate myself for it. That's wrong.
It hit me like a bus when I first looked it up on the internet. That's me, I thought, there's other people like me. I'm not wrong.
It hit me like a bus when my mother asked why I had been looking these things up, and her voice was like ice, her expression was like knives.
When we're growing up, it's drilled into our brain that boys and girls love each other. They can't be friends, it will always end in a romantic relationship. They can't love others their gender, it is wrong. It's a sin. It's bad, and they're bad for feeling that way. They're bad for being that way, for being themselves.
"It's not like that anymore," people tell me. "Everyone's fine with gay people."
Tell that to 12 year old me, who was terrified of her feelings. Tell that to the kids that internalize it like I did because they're told it's wrong. Tell that to those who hate themselves for it and are bullied for being different. Tell that to those who are killed for loving other people.
They can act as if it's not a problem, but as soon as you look away they're talking about how all gay people are predatory, or how we're forcing our sexuality on them, or how good a TV show that condemns us is. They call themselves our allies then make passive aggressive comments against us. They say they're okay with gay people then get offended when we so much as love. They act as if we weren't killed for years, and as if our opinions are silly or unwarranted. Then they expect us to take it and not speak, because as long as we're silent we can act just like them. As long as we aren't different we can hang out with them. As long as we don't get angry at their hurtful jokes but instead laugh at something that makes fun of us we can exist.
I know that one day I could be killed for that. If I step out of line even once, I could be punished. So I'll hide a part of me until I'm sure I don't need to. I'll hide it from my parents and my peers. When I'm older, I'll hide it from coworkers and friends. It's a survival tactic.
And I hate it.
Platonic Love Stories
Number one was caring, with long hair and rosy cheeks.
Number two was like a sun, bright and gravitational.
Number three was quiet and kind, and reminded me of the moon.
Number four was as adventurous as a protagonist straight from a fairy tale.
Number five was similar to both a sharp-toothed kitten and a soft fawn.
Number six was adorned by eyes like cocoa and a personality sweetened with sugar.
Number seven was like a carefree river that always flowed north.
Number eight was attentive and had the heart and smile of gold.
Glass Walls and Hypocrites
Even if I’m untrusting
I wish you would believe
The things I say
Because I’m telling the truth
Even if I’m secretive
I wish you would reach out
To me and others
Because I want to help you
Even if I’m self-conscious
I wish you would see
How amazing you are
Because so many others can
Even if I’m unhappy
I wish you would smile
In a way that I didn’t doubt
Because I wish only the best for you
Even if I’m complicated
I wish you would explain
Things my simple mind doesn’t get
Because I’m trying my best
Even if I’m doubtful
I wish you would notice
That I love you so much
Because you are my friend
I write this hypocritical statements
These stones that I throw at glass walls
I am untrusting. I am secretive. I am self-conscious. I am unhappy. I am complicated. I am doubtful.
But I wish that you were not.
Wishes and Reality
Moondust and starlight
Emerge from the blue
If I fly like a comet
Then I'll fall like one, too
Those asteroids from galaxies
Light years away
Settle on constellations
And cause me to sway
Singing to the stars
Suspended in love
Is all I can do now
While I watch them above
One day I will travel
And they'll give me their words
But for now I will settle
With watching the birds