We were, and still are, soaked in it. We marinate in it and are pickled by it. It brutalizes us. And that brutalization brittles and breaks us. We spent, and still spend, so much effort, so much time, so many resources, trying to match or maybe just perform the hyper-rigid heterosexuality we were socialized to aspire to, for fear of being seen as soft. And we used, and still use, gay men as proxies instead of people; as adaptable poltergeists for our egos and personal political narratives.
