The Only Light Left Burning

I think the reason it’s called “heartbreak” is because it really does feel as if your chest has split open and everything has fallen out. And then all that’s left is numbness.

Authoritarianism doesn’t go away on its own. A few brave people need to push back, tell everyone who will listen what the future will look like if things continue.

“I miss the rainy days at my computer. A cup of tea and a steamy open-door scene at the ready. You know how many different ways I had to think of to say erect penis?”

“Please tell me all of them,” I say as she stands. “I need a new way to make Andrew blush.”

Rocky Horror even said it—being queer is inherently dangerous, but so is the world now. For everyone. Is this how our lives are going to be now? Tiny moments of joy and then awfulness the rest of the time?

Because if it is, yes, I do need my defense mechanism. I need to be a cynical bitch who can laugh because otherwise I’ll go insane.

We’re all learning how to fight back. And maybe that’s what we need to do. I’ll always fight for Andrew; we just need to find other people who are willing to fight for us, too.

Morally, yes, we are absolutely doing the right thing. But morality is a construct of civilized society, which doesn’t exist anymore. Now we shoot each other over supplies or out of revenge.

In the cabin, it was easy to pretend we were still playing under the original moral rules of society. Then the people came—Howard and Raven and the group of others who showed up and demanded our supplies.

It wasn’t until the apocalypse that I realized exactly how many stars were out there. With zero light pollution left in the world, it’s pretty awesome. Awesome meaning evoking awe, not plain old cool. That’s a word that should be reclaimed in the apocalypse. Awesome. But only to be used in truly awesome situations.

“Both of you, on your knees,” Hickey says.

Sure, Hickey, but let’s see how many innuendos I can make. “Buy us dinner first.” I expect Jamie to scold me, but when I glance over at him he’s smirking as he drops to his knees.

“Then the next time you two are alone, tell him. I mean, not right away—you can ask how his day went, and please get some privacy. And you can be nervous about it, but be nervous together. The point is, if you’re with someone you love or connect with, port tasting is almost always great. Like pizza. God, I’m hungry. And I would love a drink. Even port, the real stuff, which, like, port is not like pizza. Let’s kill the metaphors because I think I’m starting to confuse myself.”

“You have no style or sense of fashion.” I’m setting him up for a joke I know he’s going to hit without a pause, and it’s nice to have this silly banter again. To be able to joke around and quote movies—movies I’ve never seen, of course, only heard him tell. But it feels normal, being on the road. And right now it’s just the two of us.

Andrew takes the cue. “I think that depends on—”

“No, no. That wasn’t a question.”

It’s tragic that these kids will never get to see the real Lilo & Stitch, because it has to be the best animated movie ever made. But I am proud that it’s my most requested movie retelling.

Though I’m certain that comes from the fact that we’re all our own little fucked-up ‘ohana.

“Of course. But try and eavesdrop a little more on that lady who thinks her husband is sleeping with the rabbi.” It’s nice to know other people in the Keys still have their own relationship dramas despite the devastation from the hurricane. It adds an illusion of normalcy.

Amy joins us. “RH, if you weren’t a gay man I’d marry you.”

“If we’re both single in our fifties, you can make a semi-honest man of me. We’ll have a marriage of convenience.”

It wasn’t until we got here, until he started talking to strangers, getting to know neighbors and making friends, that I realized he was trying to find the right people. The people he could make a family with again.

I know he’d leave this place behind in a second if it became unsafe. But I can tell how much it’s going to break his heart to do it. He would never admit it, but he was looking for family a long time before he met me.

“When my mom came home after a particularly bad day at the hospital, she’d call me down to the kitchen. And we’d sit at the kitchen table and go back and forth naming one thing we were happy to have in our lives. It was never the days when the ER was just busy. It was the days when she lost more patients than she knew how to handle. This was all before the superflu, I mean. When that hit, the game stopped working.”

“Repressing our emotions doesn’t feel very healthy.”

“It depends how long we repress them. If we do it for only one day, then it’s just taking a break from the more intense emotions. Giving us time to rest.”