10 1/2 Weeks Full Moon
And I refuse to go to bed. I have been enjoying these last 10 1/2 weeks getting to know a wonderful man. It's a full moon so I suppose strange things happen. Maybe that's what all the fuss about gay marriage in New York is about in Albany.
I wonder in particular about the folks who feel that legalizing the relationship I'm enjoying is a slippery slope to incest, bestiality and pedophilia. It hurts when I read those ideas that are strong and expressed with such certainty.
I'm Black too and I'm reading thoughts about the abnormality of mixed relationships and mine is a mixed relationship.
I want to believe that there's a minority opinion that's cemented in feeling rational about denying my humanity: my tall, Black, Gay, HIV+ humanity. It scares me. I wake with the fear, I live with it, and now it's hard to just go to bed since tomorrow I face it all over again. I see it in the disapproving glances of people who think I just take up too much room, the White women who clutch themselves tighter since the Black man might hurt them, the Black women who wince to see the way I carry myself "gay," the Black men who want to hit me because I'm ruining their status as virile straight men, the Gays who feel I'm destroying their status as fashion-forward, ripped abs, totally fah-bulous because I just want to be a decent, kind, compassionate human being.
And yet today, I refuse to be anything else than who I am. I let go my own residual and any anger that comes at me. The world is indeed beautiful. I am in love, and one day I hope to live with and marry the man who has come into my life and has begun to feel as if he is family to me. I imagine it must be akin to what a man and a woman feel sometimes when they settle down to become as one.
I wonder in particular about the folks who feel that legalizing the relationship I'm enjoying is a slippery slope to incest, bestiality and pedophilia. It hurts when I read those ideas that are strong and expressed with such certainty.
I'm Black too and I'm reading thoughts about the abnormality of mixed relationships and mine is a mixed relationship.
I want to believe that there's a minority opinion that's cemented in feeling rational about denying my humanity: my tall, Black, Gay, HIV+ humanity. It scares me. I wake with the fear, I live with it, and now it's hard to just go to bed since tomorrow I face it all over again. I see it in the disapproving glances of people who think I just take up too much room, the White women who clutch themselves tighter since the Black man might hurt them, the Black women who wince to see the way I carry myself "gay," the Black men who want to hit me because I'm ruining their status as virile straight men, the Gays who feel I'm destroying their status as fashion-forward, ripped abs, totally fah-bulous because I just want to be a decent, kind, compassionate human being.
And yet today, I refuse to be anything else than who I am. I let go my own residual and any anger that comes at me. The world is indeed beautiful. I am in love, and one day I hope to live with and marry the man who has come into my life and has begun to feel as if he is family to me. I imagine it must be akin to what a man and a woman feel sometimes when they settle down to become as one.
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