I cuddle under a blanket on the couch with my cat, take the paper out of my bra, and spread it out on a couch cushion. We don’t fall, so we don’t have to get up. I fold it carefully into fours and slide it into the cup of my bra-the safest place for anything really, next to a hot, beating, wanting heart. Whatever writing was at the bottom is no longer legible, washed out by the hail. I pull the sign off the pole, and it rips in my hands. Dancing cheek to cheek, lined up at the bar, staring into the camera. An underground, forbidden world of butches in beautiful suits and tuxes, femmes in elegant dresses and stacked heels. There are black-and-white photos from the era. “Le Monocle,” it reads, like the disappearing Lex ad. On a corner, taped to a street lamp, I see a sign, wet from melting hail. The sky is pearly white, like the inside of an oyster shell, and I wonder if there will be a rainbow. I turn onto A and eventually into the bike lane on Third. I fiddle for a long time with the lock, basket, and bag of groceries, trying to arrange everything for optimum balance, and then I push off and into the bike lane. I talk to her because who else is there but me and my bike in this hailpocalypse? It’s my first time buying groceries with Lana. I’m afraid to ride in the hail, but I need to get home. Late spring and little white balls hit the pavement. We haven’t had raspberries in almost two months. I don’t buy much, but enough to make me feel better, to feel fed. I find shampoo and conditioner, which I’ve been out of for a couple days. The cashiers are behind two layers of plexiglass. There’s beef that’s not about to expire, and everyone is fully masked. Inside I wander the aisles, marveling at the fresh produce and gluten-free cookies I haven’t seen in weeks. Later I ride Lana to a far away, nicer grocery store on A and Houston. We show our lips and nose once as a tease, but we are well-behaved, we keep our distance and our masks on. We are cold on a bench, but the conversation is easy. He is just as cute in person as he is in his photos, and he’s smart too, older than me, and established. A willingness to bend and shift with me.īeemer asks for a socially distanced walk, and rides into Manhattan to see me. ![]() What I want, she cannot give me: Partnership. I love her, but like all my relationships since I came out, something is off. Gina and I have been fighting about availability for most of our relationship. I want to go toward energy, toward yes, not no. “I haven’t figured out much and I am lonely.” It’s an okay situation but not great for the long haul.” He writes, “What did you figure out about pods and risk and such? My pod is my kid’s mother and her bf. There’s a second message on Lex from the Germ Bubbler. I have to buy it myself, but I’ll be reimbursed. This time, they say I can have the dictation software. ![]() I should have accepted the wheelchair so I could have given it to someone who needed it. I was so angry I wrote something nasty back, and deleted the whole thread. Instead the office offered me a wheelchair. Last year I asked for my classes to be closer together on campus because it’s hard for me to walk longer distances in short periods of time. I am told there is no mechanism for employees to register, but I can ask for the things I need. Last year I tried to register my disability with the Office of Equal Opportunity. My dean says they will buy me dictation software. “You always say that like I don’t know, like I’m an idiot, like I’m not a parent too.” You have a straight relationship and still think straight.” Your ex has all the power and I have none. ![]() “It’s fine she said no, but I don’t even get to be part of the conversation. I take my solitude hard, like I’m at a middle school dance and left alone against the padded gym wall, unworthy-not quarantine material. Before the lockdown I made two possible bubbles for myself-one with Gina, one with Guapo and his girlfriend. What can I expect from casual? What can I ask for? ![]() As if no is the only option and maybe it is.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |