It’s a historic day for
us
I refresh my Twitter feed again and again and it finally says
it’s done
I want to cry but I can’t
my mother sits a few feet away unaware
later when the TV is on, there’s silence
I walk past, determined not to show anything on my face
even as she looks at me from the side of her eyes
I want to cry but I can’t
because even if I don’t tell
it seeps out of me
and at some level they know
but they are better than me at denial
we share the same genes
we share the same tactics
but I can feel myself struggling
I let words slip out of my mouth sometimes
Torn between wanting everyone to know and hiding till I die
I talk about women and how beautiful they are
cautiously, as if I am jealous
I talk about how unfair it is
for them
to be denied the freedom to love
I congratulate others
while screaming inside
‘I AM ONE OF YOU’
but today
suddenly
impulsively
stupidly
I want to scream
YES I LIKE GIRLS
YES I DREAM ABOUT KISSING THEM
YES I USED TO BE IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND
I too want to sing songs about the girl who smiled at me the other day and made it all better
I too want to draw pictures of curly hair and bright smiles and hands that touch my cheeks gently
I too want to write poems about being heads over heels in love and gush about it to my friends
I want to celebrate too
but I can’t
I want to cry but I can’t
So I wait
and at night, under the covers, I finally cry
the brave people
braver than me
who have wy are tears of joy and they are tears of despair
I cry looking at the jubilant faces of people
brave orked for this
who have marched the streets wearing their colours
who have braved the disdain and violence
who have refused to let themselves die inside
It’s a historic day for
them
one day
I will celebrate
I will cry
and they will be tears of joy
only
About the author: ‘Fig Notaro’ is a big fan of cats, studio ghibli and writers who can describe food vividly.