Why We Fight (At First Sight 4)

“Ready?” Jeremy asked as he lifted my hand to kiss the back of it.

I nodded as I watched the others walk in the opposite direction. I thought my heart was going to burst.

There are moments in this life that stick with us for the rest of our days. They are profound and sharp, both good and bad. It’s the people we meet, the experiences we have. Finding out that your parents gave you up because they couldn’t deal is one. Staring in a mirror and realizing it was fractured though no one else could see it is another. Meeting a drag queen who can both threaten and love in a single breath is a third.

I saw a boy on a college campus who looked like he couldn’t breathe, and I sat with him until he realized I would never leave him again.

I made the decision to leave a place where I’d made something of myself to return to a desert that had caused me so much pain.

I watched as a Queen found her Homo Jock King, even though they were both fucking idiots about it and went about it in a way that should have blown up in their faces but somehow managed to work. I don’t even know.

I stood witness as two men vowed to love each other for the rest of their days, and then one of them tackled the other one and started macking in front of everyone with an inordinate amount of tongues and teeth that was both hot and disgusting at the same time. Seriously. It was still something I tried not to think about.

And now, here, was another moment.

So sharp. So profound.

An ending.

My ending.

I grinned at Jeremy. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go home.”