Ah, To Be Young Again
Current mood: thoughtful
Category: Romance and Relationships
I rode the train downtown this morning with the cutest gay couple. They were probably about 20 years old. Neither was dressed particularly snazzy. They were both wearing jeans, one with converse tennis shoes and a plaid coat, the other with running shoes and a suede coat. They were cute, but wouldn't stand out in a crowd of your usual gay suspects, the over-dressed and primped.
I first noticed their conversation. One (the blonder of the two,) was explaining to the other the story of Thomas Mann's "Death in Venice" and its themes of homosexuality. The conversation ebbed and flowed through the history of the term "homosexual," on to the discussion of whether Abraham Lincoln's bedfellows were lovers or merely close friends. I marveled at two boys, probably students, carrying on an entire conversation that was so intellectual and so "un-gay," though it centered around homosexuality. Perhaps I'd forgotten that gay men can discuss something other than pop culture, television, booze, and fashion. I was further impressed by their unabashed display of affection for each other. One wrapped his arm around the others and they periodically and spontaneously leaned over to kiss each other on the forehead, or the neck, or the shoulder. The blonder boy then answered his phone and discussed with his mother where they would meet, how they would cross the Marathon lines, and what the mother had already seen of the runners. Is this really happening? Are two cute, smart boys kissing each other publicly on the CTA on their way to meet up with a family who accepts and welcomes their gay son's lover? Perhaps I truly have grown too cynical. Perhaps this sort of thing couldn't happen to me because I've stopped believing that this kind of sincerity exists. Perhaps, as my dad suggested to me last week, the people my age have all come out of a relationship or two already and are bitter, jaded, expecting the worst. His description of what's out there for me to choose from was frighteningly accurate, both as a description of others and as a description of me. Today, however, my hope got a little shot in the arm. The idealists are still out there. There are boys who want to discuss history and literature and hang out with lover and family together. There is hope of finding one of these people! Ah, to be young again, and to believe in all the good that the world has to offer. To believe that love can conquer all, and that your problems go away when you find that love.
I rode the train downtown this morning with the cutest gay couple. They were probably about 20 years old. Neither was dressed particularly snazzy. They were both wearing jeans, one with converse tennis shoes and a plaid coat, the other with running shoes and a suede coat. They were cute, but wouldn't stand out in a crowd of your usual gay suspects, the over-dressed and primped.
I first noticed their conversation. One (the blonder of the two,) was explaining to the other the story of Thomas Mann's "Death in Venice" and its themes of homosexuality. The conversation ebbed and flowed through the history of the term "homosexual," on to the discussion of whether Abraham Lincoln's bedfellows were lovers or merely close friends. I marveled at two boys, probably students, carrying on an entire conversation that was so intellectual and so "un-gay," though it centered around homosexuality. Perhaps I'd forgotten that gay men can discuss something other than pop culture, television, booze, and fashion. I was further impressed by their unabashed display of affection for each other. One wrapped his arm around the others and they periodically and spontaneously leaned over to kiss each other on the forehead, or the neck, or the shoulder. The blonder boy then answered his phone and discussed with his mother where they would meet, how they would cross the Marathon lines, and what the mother had already seen of the runners. Is this really happening? Are two cute, smart boys kissing each other publicly on the CTA on their way to meet up with a family who accepts and welcomes their gay son's lover? Perhaps I truly have grown too cynical. Perhaps this sort of thing couldn't happen to me because I've stopped believing that this kind of sincerity exists. Perhaps, as my dad suggested to me last week, the people my age have all come out of a relationship or two already and are bitter, jaded, expecting the worst. His description of what's out there for me to choose from was frighteningly accurate, both as a description of others and as a description of me. Today, however, my hope got a little shot in the arm. The idealists are still out there. There are boys who want to discuss history and literature and hang out with lover and family together. There is hope of finding one of these people! Ah, to be young again, and to believe in all the good that the world has to offer. To believe that love can conquer all, and that your problems go away when you find that love.
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