Broken Butterflies

       

         If only I had my camera cued and ready in time for the two middle aged, grown ass men riding an authentic double seater tandem bike through Central Park today. They pedal slowly and perfectly in sync as they lean and push into harmonious turns as one. Its borderline killing me actually. Damn it, the gazellesssssssssssss got away from me this time and a priceless visual can only be recorded with words unfortunately. The sheer gayness of two dudes sharing a tandem bike is somehow way too much for even me to bare. In fact nothing makes me softer. The only two men that should ever be sharing a double bike are Tim Gunn and Carson Kressley from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy maybe. The one guy riding the rear and spooning the back seat might as well be twirling a pink lace parasol and humming Garland. I'm glad that the freedom that comes with our civil liberties in this day an age opens up the flood gates for every little twink to go parading freely up and down Provincetown's main "drag" with angel wings, throwing glitter on strangers and passing out fliers for after hours parties on roller blades. Shows like Will and Grace, Ellen's canceled sitcom, and Modern Family make it uncool to not have a gay friend in your life at this point. We've come a long way because of political activists like Harvey Milk and the freedom fighters that fought back and raised a burning, living hell at the Stonewall riots down on Christopher street all those years ago. And that was just the beginning. Unfortunately young teens today are killing themselves as though it was 1950 not almost 2012. It's a heartbreaking scenario to portray but one I know all too well and very personally. The teasing and bullying and hateful middle-school torture has the same emotional sting for young kids today being verbally and publicly hate crimed on Facebook and Twitter that it did for me when I was getting lockers slammed in my face by red neck country cunts named Misty (probably preggers with her own baby sister).

     I definitely contemplated suicide as a young closet case in a non supportive Christian environment so structured and cookie cutter that I never saw a way out. I had a choice, to either change my DNA somehow or survive until I moved out. So I did the later. When I looked at the years and years of scary public school in East Tennessee stretching before me like a long Mississippi road I could see no escape for me nor could I see how great it would be to come out fully and start living the life I was born into genetically. Sevierville was everything its name lived up to. Sevier. It kills me that sweet little 14 year old boys are offing themselves almost monthly because of the ugliness embedded in the insecure hearts of pimple-ridden tweens in the throngs of an angry puberty. I could never do it again; childhood that is.

These little boys will never experience a first kiss or grow up to be held by a loving man and know the other side of a caring masculine relationship. If you can make it over the main hump of teenage angst and avoid the boiling pot of name calling and insults you're almost homo free. That was my daily lunchroom delima. Where the fuck do I sit in a room icier than any freezing skating rink and about as deserted and unfriendly as the wild west? It was a mid day nightmare that showed no mercy for a little queer and my painful shyness contributed greatly to my vulnerability come the inevitable lunch bell. No friends = no shield. The popular table wouldn't have me because they couldn't risk the bad publicity and the alternative kids turned their backs to me because I didn't exclusively wear black or experiment with drugs. Sixth grade was a deeply scarring year and I almost didn't make it out alive. The smaller sub groups of lesser popular clicks would loose any coolness cred they already had if they were seen with a fag so the distance was kept like a strict, unspoken restraining order. It broke me to be shunned at an age where approval is everything and I'm sure it contributes to some of my adult issues with people in my present day life as well. To this day I have the hardest time holding a guys hand in public or drawing attention to myself. In some ways I'm the same little kid. With no welcoming seats available that left only the Bible study group and the band, the final dagger in my social life never to be resuscitated. Which ever one I chose would be a disaster and would muddy the waters even more. I tucked my non Christian tail under and walked up to the table of ten or so busted bible believers and sat down quietly and started eating my carrots and laughing half heartedly at a joke I didn't even hear. Huge mistake because as soon as I was noticed this gang of ten or so kids all stood up as one, collected their treys and back packs, and moved away from me as a group! I'll never ever forget the feeling of total exposure and abandonment by god's chosen ones. The leader of the little pre-first period bible study gang was a kid named Chris. He was about six-one and freakishly over sized for a twelve year old with a thick mat of chest hair and a five o'clock shadow. He said to me as he passed by, "We don't sit with faggots!"


      I love being gay....now....because we aren't bound by the stereotypical baby agenda and marriage at gun point and parents are not looking to us to pop out a parade of grand babies. As a joke I wanted to start an "It gets so much Worse" campaign but things like that can never be joked about on any level really because serious situations and sarcasm are a dangerous thing to mix and would never be worth the risk.

           

With all that's going on in the world today I'm grateful that I'm not a woman wrapped from head to toe, being held hostage in her own house in some horrible middle eastern country totally terrorized by religion, fear, and probably her own husband. It's like modern day legal slavery. There are no rights for women in that culture and the inequality has no measure. I feel lucky to be a free man. And yes (I cant believe I'm even saying this) but I feel blessed to be a free gay man in American. Too soon? Too late?