Don’t you get tired of being asked, well, when did you know? I don’t know. Or, I always knew. When did you know?
You know how it goes. If I knew then what I know now would I have done what I did? Or would I have done it sooner?
When I knew was when I knew enough to know that I didn’t want to know.
When I knew was when I noticed that my eyes were drawn to seeing men and that women were just walking by.
When I knew was when I began to see those men when they weren’t around.
When I knew was when I began to see those men when my eyes were closed.
When I knew was when I was out with a date and she gazed longingly at me while I was thinking: I should go.
When I knew was when I saw men ballet dancers doing beautiful things with their beautiful bodies. Swaying, leaping, turning, lunging.
When I knew was when I saw a picture in the newspaper of men mourning the passage of a referendum rescinding a civil rights ordinance in St. Paul, Minnesota. I wanted to be with them.
When I knew was when I said to myself: I am goddam sick of being alone.
When I knew was when I walked up to the booth for Gay Rights at the Ohio state fair and said, I’m with you.
When I knew was when I knew I wanted to love those men.
When I knew was when I knew I wanted to be loved by those men.
When I knew was when a friend, soon to be a boyfriend, held me in his arms and got me naked. I’ve been naked ever since.
When I knew was when I a stranger walked into a Dignity meeting and said: God, I’m home.
That’s when I knew
© 2 April 2018
© 2 April 2018
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