21
Diversity Rules Magazine
April 2017
hurt the economy any more than normal people will.
When he sits on my bed, the mattress sinks a little.
Even when I sit on his lap, I still must look up at his
voice to face him.
We start off by talking about our dating accounts. As
we talk, we realize that we may not like each other in
the slightest, but we are both in the same boat. We
are lonely outcasts in our own gaggle of brothers who
want a lot of things like; for example, love, marriage
rights, and someone who's true to who they are. I wish
they knew how to say all they want is someone who
you can have sex with and never look back. As we talk,
we become even more heartbroken and emotional and
worried.
His arms shake as his voice trembles with the desperate
cry for answers that I am sure we all asked ourselves at
some point, "is there someone out there for me?"
"I have no freaking idea," I say and hug him back.
We hold each other, and we wish the world was better
about being honest. We argue about what honesty is.
We argue about other gay men. Even though we are
not getting along, we need each other, just for tonight.
I take his face in my hands and gaze up at his heavy
breathing. We continue to hold each other until, fi-
nally, his annoying voice and loving embrace steps to-
wards my apartment door. Before he leaves, though, I
grab his arm to say a final goodbye. Something weird
blurts out of my mouth instead.
"We just can't give up," I say. I tell him that there's
someone out there for everybody, even weirdoes like
us.
"I hope you're right." He says.
"I hope so too," I answer. I don't know how loudly
our weirdly colored hearts are beating at this moment,
but I'd like to hope that someone, somewhere, notices
they exist.
