Standing but a few feet away from y’all, listening to the sounds of joy escaping from your mouths. A medley of loving hums, much like a sweet summer song you heard as a teenager. Breaking the silence in the room and inside of your mind, I see a love like yours and I honestly wonder what that’s like.

Consistent.Constant.Concerted.

There are many words to describe what I see, but this is what I offer to you in these trying and troubled times. For us queers, we always hear this talk of love. Love that conquers all, love that endures oppression, love that is transformative and healing.

Love that wins.

What exactly does it mean to win in this day and age? To appear victorious in the face of so much sadness. To find someone, or someones, to engage in the beauty of life with. To commit to a set of ideas with the ultimate goal of making yourself and others happy. Blissful whirlwinds of heated air knocking you off your feet time and time again. Watching the sky change colors much like watching your love adapt and evolve.

Day in and day out.

I can honestly say I want a love like yours. Something still so unfamiliar after nearly three decades of life. In this desert the sky bears down cruelly on my person, bleaching my hair and burning my skin. However, no matter how unrecognizable I become during this drought, I believe the rain will someday wash over me.

Taking some of the pain and isolation, whisking them down the stream.

Big haired #Leo who writes about existing as a Queer POC in America. Louisiana Creole. New Orleans. I’m the dramatic southern belle your parents love!