She stands across the table writing in her secret language, that only she and others from the same planet have the privilege of knowing. Outsiders like myself may be imprisoned, and fed only worms for food, and the juice of worms for drink, if said language by divulged to us in any way.
Her thoughts seem to scatter in a cloud above her, no one too enticing to pull out of the lot. Until a moment later, just before it vanishes she sees that dangerously bright one and snatches it out. ‘Are you sure your going out with a girl?’ ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ ‘Well, are you sure, sure? Because you know some boys, they have long hair.’ (I chuckled to myself) ‘Yes, I am 100% sure. I believe all of those boxes have been checked.’ ‘O.K.’
She has the gift of seeing beauty in all things. Shes not too shy to tell a woman they are beautiful, displaying an almost revelatory glimpse into the adolescent queer. And yet she gives me that all too familiar side ways look when I tell her I am taking a beautiful woman on a date. Her nurture, not by her parents, but by the media and the television that festers with lies and false propaganda, is in direct quarrel with her nature. It is so painstakingly obvious, and I nearly become angry.
I gather myself for a moment. Then I ask the most basic question. ‘Why did you give me that look?’ ‘Because you can’t go on a date date with a girl’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I don’t know, because your only supposed to go on date dates, with boys’ ‘Says who?’ ‘I don’t know’ ‘Well, there are no rules as to who you can go on date dates with. You can date whomever you like. Ok?’ ‘Alright’
Is my good deed done for the day? Who knows. I am not on a mission to correct the misconceptions of every child, or person for that matter. Shes just my BFF, and BFF’s don’t keep secrets.
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