ginandjack:

inkskinned:

not to be fake deep but gay culture is having a complicated, flawed relationship with the people who were supposed to be there for you. the blood relatives you refuse to come out to, the ones you regret being honest with, the ones who give you that sharp, knifeblade smile like they know they’re supposed to be fine with you being gay but fuck they’re upset about it

gay culture is finding a new family. rewriting the one that you lost. the sliding sideways glance of two people in a room “i got you”. replacing the bits of you that fell out and finding – oh, oh, this is what love was supposed to be, isn’t it, where i open my heart and the teeth don’t come out. where you can say “i need help” and a hand opens and not to take. a house, sometimes; more often just a series of shared spaces where cat-like you lounge with the weirdest people you’ve ever known, the most beautifully honest human beings who let you be weird too (they’re not actually weird, you realize one day, it’s just weird to you that they aren’t angry, and that idea makes you drop what you’re holding). no, we can’t talk honestly with our dads and don’t bother with our moms. we feel what is unsaid like a second person we carry with us, a hand over our mouths. it’s okay, and it’s not okay, and when it’s not okay, you say: i need a hug. and you get one, always.

I feel this deep in my queer, old soul.