The Truth Is

by NoNieqa Ramos

I am not asking for fairytale happiness either. I just want to sit in the cafeteria and have lunch with—a friend? a crush?—and not on a toilet.

Is happiness just bait to lure you through life? Can happiness have longevity? Or is it like bubble gum? You chew on it, suck all the sweetness out. Someone bursts your bubble, or you blow too big a bubble and end up with it stuck all over your face.

“You know why all them philosophers in those pictures is wearing sheets? Because they can’t afford no clothes, mija!”)

I am obsessed with the concept of change . . . #irony.

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed. It transforms from one state to another.”

“People always talk about hate being an inverse of love. You know, light is love and dark is hate. But that’s colonial bullshit. Hate stands in its own category. Its own genus. Hate is not an inverse of love. It’s an absence.”

“I think all teenagers are shapeshifters. This is but one of mine.”

Quietly Danny says, “Every day I walk out into the world, my heart is on my sleeve. A target.”

I wish I were the squirrel. The squirrel can’t be anything but a squirrel. It can’t be a giraffe. It doesn’t want to be a damn giraffe.

Change is the only thing that stays the same. But what is change?

she chose white like a bride, and I told her Blanca, you’ll have slushie stains on that in five minutes, white picks up everything . . . That’s my life. A white dress.

They shout, “Dykes!” Me: “End tables!” That’s when Danny almost falls. He is dying laughing. “Out of all the things you could have said . . . I love your brain.”

I think about the Holy Trinity, the statues of saints back at the cemetery. God is a hundred billion things but humans are expected to be one.

I have my books and my poetry to protect me.

Light has its limits but dark reaches everybody and everything.

“As in, I’m not cisgender. Not binary. Not a figment or a fraction. Whole.” The atmosphere is toxic with cigarettes. “Not a robot.” “Not a sin. Not going to your hell.”

“Thing is, Verdad, maybe it isn’t us who is changing. Maybe we’re just more ourselves. Less of everybody else. And maybe the people we thought we knew are less the selves we thought they were.”

So who am I? What is this body? Just packaging? A container? Because the only thing that matters in love is the heart, the brain, the soul.

I grab my pen and make a list on my leg where there is still space left to write. Things I am: A girl. A Boricua. A fucking genius. A seer. A mystic. An insomniac. An Underdog? An astroNOT. Queer. Pan like Baldwin said?

Blanca and I always imagined a formal church wedding, her to Chadwick Boseman, me to whomever. I never imagined myself having to worry about whether I’d even be allowed to get married. I am no longer a VIP, one of God’s chosen people, guaranteed a first-class ticket to paradise. I am officially on the highway to hell.

RIP

my brain does not cooperate. I stare at the cross, at the being who is 100 percent human and 100 percent divine at the same time. The being who is at least three things at once in the Holy Trinity. So all of us sitting here accept transubstantiation, but we can’t accept that a kid can be transgender?

Well, let me ease your mind. Thinking is not a sin. To think makes you human. To be human makes you part of the divine. By the way, to be a teenager is not a sin either.”

“Then I absolve you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Recite three Hail Mary’s and one Our Father and think about how you can make better decisions in the future. But also, remember you are not alone. No. Matter. What. God loves you. And I suspect your parents love you more than you know.”

“Love and acceptance are two different things.” People think they know what love is. They confuse it with conformity. “Peace, Padre.” I step out of the confessional.

“You book smart. But emotionally—challenged. I’ll pray for you, my child.” Nelly starts walking backwards. “And you’re welcome, but it’s not my job to change your world. It’s my job to change mine. Bye, Maquina.” “Verdad. It’s Verdad.” “Ain’t that the truth.”

“This is not a contest. I need to be who I am and feel what I need to feel, every bit as much as you do.”

I bury my face in his chest. “I want to kiss you.” I look up. “And punch you in the face.”

“I’m just saying—God loves you. God loves us. Don’t know who the hell everybody thinks they’re praying to.”

This👏🏻

I pray because everything I’ve ever understood about math—science—the universe—proves God exists. I don’t need faith.

“We are the WE in weird.”

we make the assumption that our courts deliver justice. But how can they when the people in power don’t represent the people they’re supposed to serve?”

Like Padre said, it all comes down to decisions. My mother decided to not trust my judgment. Decided who I should be and who I should love.

My mother decided I’m not good. Funny how homophobic people think being gay or transgender leads to misery but never consider that they’re the ones who cause it.

Never consider that they are the ones who separate God from their kids. Hell is now. Saying it ha...

love ain’t acceptance. Love on its own isn’t enough.

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.

We were supposed to be kids not soldiers. But Fate says, I could have told ya.

My moms and I haven’t exactly made up. I have can’ts of my own. The main one: I can’t be anyone but myself.

Who is myself? Myself is queer. Myself has mental illness and needs to take pills so I don’t rip out my hair. Myself can be a scientist and a poet. And the truth is, myself ain’t entirely myself yet. Why do I have to have myself figured out already?

The answer is I damn well don’t. And once I get myself figured my out, I’ma try something new and start all over again. Myself is also sort of talking to myself.

The truth is, loving myself is not a given. It’s hard work sometimes. And loving other people is hard work too—if you’re giving them the love they deserve. But love is something we all have to do for ourselves, and for each other. It’s the only thing worth fighting for.