I Wish You All the Best

by Mason Deaver

Like, what do you do when your parents kick you out of your house? When your entire life is upheaved, all because you wanted to come out, to be respected and seen, to be called the right pronouns?

If you’re queer, your life has the potential to become one long coming-out moment. If I ever want to be called the right pronouns, I’ll have to correct people and put myself out there first and who knows what could happen.

“Can’t spell ‘subtext’ without ‘butt sex.’”

Boys aren’t supposed to wear dresses. Even if I’m not a boy, even if clothing shouldn’t be gendered. Whenever anyone looks at me, that’s all they’ll see.

But the more I stare at my body, the more I hate it. It’s the same feelings I had before I realized I’m nonbinary. Things just aren’t where they’re supposed to be, and I feel like I’m larger and smaller than myself at the same time. Like nothing adds up.

“Not really. Labels can help people find common ground, can help them connect, with themselves and other people.”

“Whatever happens”—his grip tightens a little—“I wish you all the best, Benjamin De Backer.” He says it with a smile. “You deserve it.”

He doesn’t react at first, then slowly but surely, his mouth spreads into that all-too-familiar grin that I think I’ve fallen in love with. I never want him to stop smiling.

“Don’t ignore the problems,” he says. “Learn from them. But also, don’t knock what you get right. Every success deserves a celebration.”

The way he looks at me, it’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. “That’s not what’s going to happen. Why would you think I’d want to lose you like that?”

“I wish you all the best, Benjamin De Backer.”

They aren’t the same words, but I know exactly what he means. “I love you too.”