Tuesday, April 20

Are we sticking with the idea that gay love is noble? I ask. We are lying in bed with the thunder shuddering the walls and clamping my heart, forcing it to jump jump a beat, but I pretend like it's not happening.

He gives me a look (I must've winced), but he doesn't say anything about it. "In some circles it's starting to be cool."

In most it's not.


Quiet, for a long time.

"So, why do you pick guys who have to make a choice between their life and a life with you? To make it noble?"

Versus what? I ask. What else would I choose? (Lately, bashing has been heavy on my mind. I've remembered, suddenly and inexplicably, what it feels like to be small in front of a group of bigger boys who want to hurt you.)

He doesn't smile. "Me."

We stare at the ceiling as it starts to rain.


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