Openly Straight

by Bill Konigsberg

“It’s hard to be different,” Scarborough said. “And perhaps the best answer is not to tolerate differences, not even to accept them. But to celebrate them. Maybe then those who are different would feel more loved, and less, well, tolerated.”

I looked over at him, and it was like I could see inside him, inside his rib cage, all the intricate muscles and veins and bone and the same heart that everyone else had. Was it twisting in there? I felt sorry for him.

“That’s beautiful,” I said. You’re beautiful, I thought, but I didn’t say it.

Nothing that comes from love could ever be wrong.”

I wanted to say, I love you, I’m in love with you, let’s stay in love no matter what after this conversation.

The hole in my heart, I can’t even begin to describe. It’s hard when you open your heart and let someone in and then suddenly they’re not in it anymore.

“Whenever the rest of the world won’t, I’ll be happy to look at you,” I said. “Anytime.”