Pathetic! says my devil.
Matt sees himself with me
in a hypothetical future,
when he’s ready to come out.
Years from now when he’s out
of his parents’ house
at a faraway university.
That may be Matt’s story,
but it’s not mine.
My devil takes hold,
and my rage jumps out:
“Fuck off, Matt!
You’re not doing this to me.”
“What do you mean?”
Matt asks as he sits up.
He shuffles back on the bed.
“You’re not gonna dangle
some fantasy in front of me
of us being together,
years into the future,
when you’re ready to come out.”
“Kai, please wait,” he says.
He puts a hand on my left leg.
“You haven’t let me finish.
Just let me finish.”
He squeezes gently.
He looks doe-eyed,
like he’s gonna cry again.
I feel safe with Matt
holding me like this.
