Stray city by chelsey johnson7/2/2023 My new boyfriend was much more of an activist than my old girlfriend had been, but this didn’t matter. My queer friends felt betrayed by this new development and stopped inviting me to queer events, queer organizing meetings. That guy in my program regarded my “new guy” with suspicion, touching only the tips of his fingers when he offered a handshake, as if he were a bomb that might detonate. I understood his confusion, yet it was not the confusion that struck me so much as the other feelings: the fear, the animus. And? “I thought you were a, you know,” he said, tugging at his collar button, “gay.” When I eventually brought around a new beau, one of the guys in my program wiggled his eyebrows. She held my hand at the kickoff barbecue and accompanied me to the welcome drinks gathering, but after an appropriate amount of strife and struggle, we split up. When I moved to Virginia to begin my MFA, I had a girlfriend as handsome as a star. Sign up for our newsletter to get submission announcements and stay on top of our best work.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |