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SIATSIA Excerpt 4

April 16, 2013

oh geeze… May 31, 2009

i’m starting with the happy stuff first…

So, someone help me… is there, like, an “overheard while tripping” site like there is “overheard in New York?” ‘Cause, snap, i’ve got something to add!

We stayed at this dinky (but sufficient) motel in Erie, El Patio or something, and we had a bunch of adjoining rooms in an otherwise pretty empty wing. Leo decides we should all drop acid, which of course B. has done before, so Lacey and i end up being the n00bs. As it turns out, i actually really like Lacey (i didn’t used to), and she had me cracking up pretty much all night straight through breakfast (excepting some private time with our respective SOs). At breakfast, i nearly peed my pants. She was, like, staring at a piece of toast, and out of the blue goes, “My god, Dave, by like, 7am, I was just done. Micah’s totally passed out, and I’m just, like, clinging to his back hair, praying for the hallucinations to stop. You know?” And everyone just STOPS and STARES at her and waits for a second, like, ‘What?!’

“Dude, Micah. God. You should get that shit WAXED.” (That was Drew.)

*Ridiculously girly giggle* (THAT was [uncharacteristically] Bryan, which cracked me up all over again.)

“Well, it’s TRUE.” (That was Lacey.)

“This is why you’re not allowed to take your shirt off on stage, Micah.” (Leo.)

And so on…

Lacey got lost in her toast again; Drew, Leo, and Micah debated adding a few keyboard tracks to what they’re working on; and Bryan shuffled things around on his plate, smiling to himself about god knows what little nugget of tripped-out goodness.

When we got back today, Bryan and i decided to drive to a park in the city, and we found this great spot with sun AND shade AND no one around. i was laying with my head in B.’s lap, kinda dozing, and he’s laying back, randomly playing with my hair, and then he starts sighing.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I just want things to always be like this.”

“They will be. i can’t imagine ever being anything but happy with you.”

“Oh, well, yeah, of course. But I meant, like, not hiding. I don’t want to hide anymore.” He sat up all of the sudden and stared down at me, all seriousness. “David (i knew i was doomed, as usual), I want you to hold my hand in school.”

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen: the end of a perfectly good weekend shattered in just seconds. My boyfriend wants to be the season finale of some after school tv special. Great.

“B., that’s, um, not a good idea.”

“Why NOT? You’re out. Me coming out isn’t up to you.”

“i know, but my god, B., you know how bad Paul scares me. i don’t want to give him any more ammo. Can’t we just stay like this for a while longer? i mean, the way things are when we’re away from home and school?”

“Um, have you LOOKED at North’s MySpace lately?”

“Er. No…” i shoot a guilty look up at him, kind of ducking down further into his lap. “i mean, you’re not on my BLOG every day, so…”

“Ugh, I don’t care. That’s not the point. It’s just… babe, it doesn’t matter whether it’s here or Reading or Philly or Erie – my days in the closet are seriously numbered, whether I like it or not: Someone at the Reading show commented on (he does this little air quote thing) ‘how cute i am with my boyfriend’ and ‘how friggin’ adorable my bf is when he dances’…way to go, hot stuff. We’re cute and adorable and shit.”

“Okay, so delete the comments.”

“No. Hell no. Don’t you get it, David?! I don’t WANT to delete the comments like that. I. Don’t. Care. So why should YOU?”

“Oh, gee, maybe because i don’t like the odds of us getting our asses beat from here clear into next week???”

He waited for just a second, and then just snapped. “What the fuck should you care? You’re the one cutting.”

Annnnnnnnnnnnd… yeah. That was the official tipping point. i didn’t respond. i sat up. i moved away. i REALLY didn’t want him to see me cry, but goddamn, that stung like nothing else.

“Oh… FUCK. David. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It was a low blow and I really didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I was mad and it just slipped out and I’m so sorry…” He grabbed my hand, and i pulled away. I actually think i might have growled at him, which would be funny in hindsight if my blood weren’t boiling all over again just trying to write this down.

“Don’t you fucking TOUCH me. This isn’t ABOUT me. Did it EVER occur to you that i’m not worried about ME here?! i don’t want YOU to get hurt.” And then i just started bawling (real mature) and told him about my dream from the other night. i told him every last name that Paul or anyone else has ever called me, told him a story about Jochen getting beaten by his own father because he put on eyeliner once, not even because he came out (of course he didn’t). So i begged Bryan again not to come out to his parents.

“Dave, please know that I love you. Please. But I can’t let you tell me not to come out in the face of all these horror stories when YOU are out. That’s incredibly hypocritical.

i reminded him he had a CHOICE, whereas i just kind of stumbled into it and that it never occurred to me to be in the closet.

He reminded me that i had a CHOICE when i moved to Pittsburgh.

i called him an ass, and then i refused to say another word about it.

i left the issue entirely unresolved, which is a horrible way to end an argument. All it means is that it’s not over, that it will creep back up for discussion (read: more yelling) at another perfectly inopportune time.

So, Jinny, now what can we say about personal freedoms? Now that Bryan’s freedoms are something for me to be concerned about, now what? i certainly can’t take away his freedom of choice here, but if he has his way, if i hold his hand in school, isn’t that letting him take away mine?

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From → fiction, SIATSIA

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