21st Century Problems: My Gay FTM Transgendered Boyfriend (#10) (Louis Toliver Jr

21st Century Problems: My Gay FTM Transgendered Boyfriend (#10) (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

It’s 2:45 PM on Monday. I always have lunch on MWF with my boyfriend who actually is a biological female who feels like a guy on the inside, which means I am dating a preop FTM transgendered American citizen also meaning she is "he" who is my boyfriend. This also means that technically I am gay because I am in love with a female that really is internally a male. It’s a lot to wrap your head around I know. I was hopping it Picadilly (our favorite laidback place. No drama here always.) to meet Terry, my boyfriend. After I sat down, with him after getting my Super Dilly, I was met with, “I have something to tell you.” I had barely sweetened my ice tea with one artificial blue and pink sweetener. “I’m straight,” he said with a straight face. I stared at my baked chicken which looked confused as I did. Terry (Terri when he was she) looked at me, he was casually dressed like an alternative Rockband player. I pondered my sexuality for a bit. You know sexuality seems easier in high school when you just have straight and gay and no between. However, sexuality in the real world was like a calculus problem, complex as hell. “So, you are telling me…that you are a female…that feels like a male…who realized that he was gay…but now you are telling me that you are a male who has realized he is straight,” I should have gotten a regular Dilly. “Yes, so I have to break up with you. I am in love with a woman,” Terry grabbed my hand that was holding my fork and asked, “We can still friends?” I looked at Terry and then at my food. “Friends let friends enjoy their Dillys at Picadilly,” I thought.

Comments

Come Hither (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)

I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.

Let That Fucker Burn (John Chenvert - Napoleonville, LA)

Let that fucker burn. Let the fire crackle like the whips once did— like bone meeting leather, like screams swallowed by the trees. Let the white columns crumble to ash. Not as tragedy— but as truth, unearthing itself from beneath generations of silence. Nottoway is not a mansion. It’s a mausoleum. A lie carved in stone to honor the hands that held the whip, not the backs that bore it. They called it the “White Castle.” A place of beauty. A place for weddings, for photo ops, for pretending that horror can be made elegant if the curtains match the guilt. But no paint can cover what happened there. Blood doesn’t wash out with white linens. And pain doesn’t forget just because you renamed it history. I’m not Black. And I won’t pretend to carry that weight. But I also won’t ignore it. My people—the Guanches—were taken too. Our language silenced. Our land stolen. Our names nearly erased. So yes, I know colonization. Yes, I know what it means to be disappeared. But I also know this— my skin ...

Lunatic (Lily Lechler - New Orleans, LA)

“Lunacy” comes from the moon, Who cycles through brilliance and darkness Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed Opposites not so well harnessed Who cycles through brilliance and darkness? The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Opposites. Not so well harnessed As she thought, her brain gives reason the slip The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Her body, depressed, her thoughts manic. As she thought, her brain gave reason the slip And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic. Her body depressed her thoughts. Manic Lunacy comes from the moon And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed

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