The [Un]Popular Vote

by Jasper Sanchez

Democracy, he said, is an elegant, elaborate distraction.

You can just stay at home, watch old seasons of Project Runway, and finish those Queer Eye recaps where you talk about, what was it—” “How Queer Eye imposes a homonormative model of LGBTQ identities that isn’t particularly ‘queer’ at all.” Nadia nudges her girlfriend, smiling as she turns to Benji. “Which you’re wrong about, by the way. Just because they’re focusing on trends—”

We can’t just stand idly by and shut our eyes and stick our fingers in our ears and pretend everything’s A-OK. That’s the Dan Savage model of political progress. Nothing gets better if we all just pray for the day we can get the fuck out of this place.

That’s the thing about denial. Once the damage is done, intentions don’t matter.

I want to reach up and cup his cheek with my hand. I want to wipe away the small battalion of tears that broke past his defenses. I want to feel his skin beneath mine, even if it’s clammy, even if it’s feverish. Instead, I drop my hand as if I’ve been electrocuted.

I’d forgotten what it felt like for family not to hurt.

When you’re queer in America, you have to learn to love your country for what it could be, or not at all. You’re always feeling forward, reaching, leaning toward a future that doesn’t yet exist. That might never exist.

my heart’s not in it. It’s just a sprained muscle, throbbing in my chest.

not everything is a debt. All we owe to each other is the best we have to give.”

Regret might as well be written on my forehead in permanent marker. Ralph’s smile disappears, and God. It hurts to lose the light of the sun.