Page 164 of I Can't Even Think Straight

---

He looks like a grown man.

He looks like a dad.

It’s so beautiful it hurts.

“Put them down,” I say, and he obeys.

I thought seeing Matt in his church clothes

in Vass’s bedroom full of LGBTQ+ rainbows

would feel like a contradiction,

but it’s more like an expansion

of everything I’ve been thinking.

By learning to accept Matt’s contradictions,

there’s more possibility,

and less binary thinking.

“How was church?” I ask him.

Followed by, “Did you say a little prayer for me?”

“I did, actually,” Matt says gently.

Followed by: “For a quick recovery.”

I want to get back

to laughing and joking with Matt.

He looks at me

like I’m a fragile little bird

with broken wings.

I look at him

like he might also have hollow bird bones

and I could lift him with one arm.

He is as delicate a creature as me.

“Did you pray for my soul as well?” I smirk.

“I think it’s a bit late for that,” he jokes back.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

We sit in silence for a while.

I feel as comfortable as I can,

---