Straight guys don’t sit beside each other in a dark theater.” I didn’t understand, so he clarified: “I’m not gay. I will never forget the day many years ago when we went to the movies and he said we had to leave an empty seat between us. He is one of the few friends I can call at any time, even if months have passed since we last spoke, and talk for hours. He would become the first person I ever came out to, and today he is one of my strongest allies. Since our school was tiny and our team terrible, we both made it.Īs freshmen, we were at the very bottom of the pecking order and tasked with duties no one else wanted (cleaning the bathrooms, carrying the water). One other boy in my class tried out with me. When I was a freshman in high school, I tried out for varsity football. As gay men, we are taught to fear public displays of affection from day one - because the little animated boy dog falls in love with a girl dog because Spider-Man swoops down to save Mary Jane, not John and because, in the first story I was ever told, God created Adam and Eve, not … well, you know the rest.Ībove: Real-life couple (and friends of the author) Norge (left) and Jeramy (right) consented to taking cute couple pictures at various locations across Atlanta, Ga. These words might seem academic and sing of protest, but they describe very real problems. The wrongness and unfairness I felt in that moment was heteronormativity and gay oppression. It seemed so effortless for them, so comfortable. Around me, straight couples were walking by, fingers interlocked. Almost immediately I felt angry at myself for being unable to last longer. My palms were sweating, and after a few minutes I let go. My first time holding a man’s hand was at a theme park, and I could hardly breathe. Other gay men spot it easily because we have all been there. This may be the first time they have ever held hands in public, and they are determined to do it, goddamn it - but they’re scared. Whenever I see one of these “joyless couples,” I feel like crying or cheering or screaming or some variation of the three. “Look at the joyless couple,” a friend and fellow homo said, nodding at one such couple the last time I was at Disney World. They almost seem like militants, cutting through the crowd, matching stride, never cracking a smile. You’ve probably seen it: two gay men holding hands at a theme park, walking briskly, with rigid arms and cold expressions.
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