[DRAFT] Holding Hands
March 05, 2017
Oh the tears. When holding hands with my love went from a simple thing we thought nothing of, to an act of defiance, playing hide and seek in a world of hate. Hands once joined now held apart in fear. We are the same pair back then and now, I shed my old skin and was born anew but now we hold hands in secret, tell ourselves stories like we are an old couple now we don’t need to be constantly holding hands. But not expressing this simple thing wears the soul and it hurts in a way that these people that hate take righteous pride. Holding hands will we be yelled at? Beaten? Shot? I grew up in a house where one sentiment expressed burned its way into my psyche. That gay people should be lined up against a wall and shot. Statements made offhand, out of ignorance, whether held with conviction or not, the image in my young mind burns even now. So we don’t hold hands, my love and I, and it hurts not only us but the world in which we live. The media narrative on love, polished cisgender and heteronormative, having become so many peoples window to the world outside their televisions and computers, is not true, and occasionally we catch a glimpse like this, or what I know will be an outpouring of support on this post, on this Facebook where that corporation has chosen to assemble your feed to happen to see my words, and you, the humans on the other side of their keyboards will pour your humanity in.