The other day I ran up a set of stairs and I almost died.
Well, that’s how I felt at least. No one ever told me I’d get so old so young.
That isn’t the point. When I got to the top of the stairs my date was waiting there for me, laughing and holding the door open as I tumbled into the train car. And for a moment I wanted to throw myself into his arms and thank my lucky stars that I didn’t break a hip or have a heart attack or something. And then, because my brain is a strange and non-romantic place, this popped into my head instead.
A moment I would stare at without realizing I was staring and thinking things like ‘straight people just…do straight things…and everybody’s just okay with it’ and they would pretend not to notice me staring. Then I’d see something shiny and we’d both forget it ever happened.
i’m okay with straight people as long as they act gay in public
‘straight people just…do straight things…and everybody’s just okay with it’
I thought about how easy it would be to throw myself into his arms, how in a few weeks when he’s more entrenched in my life maybe I’ll really want to do that… often. How maybe I’ll want to do it so badly I’ll hardly be able to stop myself. How hard it must be to feel that way and always have to stop yourself.
And so instead of throwing myself into his arms I tried to steady my heartbeat and catch my breath and I got really sad. I got really sad at the depravity of the world we live in. A world where every day people can have that overwhelming need to throw themselves at their loved ones and then recognize that same need in others and deny it to them. It seems I get really sad on the subway a lot lately.