all of my relationships are so intense and hard-won that i spend what others have insinuated is an unusual amount of time considering whether i would have been friends with my friends at other points in my life. (so queer, as usual.) theres only a very few people where the answer is definitely yes.
I got turned on to trans politics in the classroom. I went to Smith College (for Ladies and Contingent Inverts). It’s a strangely conservative place. Gender is policed in Women’s Studies classes and the dining hall, and it’s hard to get laid if you’re not wearing cargo pants. It wasn’t exactly my scene, but I did get lucky in class. Not like that (well, maybe once, and a few times in the library). The classroom, after all, is a dense site of eros, thick with half-formed thoughts and intellectual desires. It’s experimental and disorienting. I did my best monster terrorist femme (as Jasbir Puar calls it) in the classroom, though I’ve since embraced another form of feminist role play in critical boredom.
My girlfriend passed away three years ago. It was drawn out and messy but you do crazy stuff when you love someone. It’s so cliche but a bit of me went away when she died and no matter what I do I can’t get it back. Am I just pathetic?
no, you’re not pathetic. not at all.
but you won’t get it back. you’ll create something else in its place. you can’t get it back because the part of you that went away was the part that could only exist in a world where the person you loved in that specific way hadn’t left yet.
you’ll make new parts. they’ll go away too. you’ll just keep making new parts. like a starfish.
“‘I feel fine,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.’” —
Ernest Hemingway, Hills Like White Elephants