A I Michael was born & raised in Austin, Texas. A I will be attending the University of Texas at Austin in the Fall of 2022.

I Asked For Space To Write To You About Love

I asked for space to write to you about love.

The restriction of any of my rights is nothing new to me. It doesn’t matter that I’m not out (except to a few very close friends) because I feel it when I walk down the street (subtle or otherwise, in coded language, or billboard) that my life is under threat constantly because I should not exist.

Perhaps you live somewhere that you feel relative comfort in being who you really are but the reality is that none of us feel completely secure (or should be) as long as one of us is made to feel like their life is in jeopardy for simply speaking & living their truth.

Ask yourself if you have the privilege to be who you are without inhibition or restraint in the place where you live & few of us can make that claim.  

So do I need to present to you a case about fighting for my rights because it would be you next or do you understand that the constant threat I face means you are not free?

(If I approach my life with these stakes in my heart, would you?)

I asked for space to write to you about love because I should have that freedom.

Imagine a weight not upon your shoulders but placed inside of your body, at the top of your heart.

So that when you feel deeply for something or someone (like you were in love) it causes not a romantic pain but a kind of dread that sinks you.

Imagine every desire you experience possessing or possessed by fear. To want is to be terrified of that want, don’t you dare fall in love.

I am expected to write about identity, always.

The editors that I speak with quietly expect me to be writing about struggle, but the struggle is nothing without love, let me write about that.

Why is it I feel like I am not allowed to speak about how I can love when I feel my words should tell you that I am capable of loving so well but I have to speak about laws & legislations & bathrooms & pronouns. What about my desires? Is the act of loving not defiance? Isn’t this how we become free?

I live in a suburb of a major Texas metropolis.

You already have your presumptions about where I live, so I’m not going to correct any your misconceptions (However rooted in some reality, your place is simply a little more polite about their bigotry & prefers to stab you in the back rather than the front)

You are well aware of the attacks the State is making upon trans people & how it is not safe here for any of us.

US.

Our cruelty is our honor. This State was built by & for cruelty.

Do you want me to be surprised? Do you want me to make pleas for us to be saved? Are you the kind of person who thinks first that I should move somewhere else? (Where? Where is somewhere safer? Do you believe in this illusion of safety?)

I asked for space to write to you about love. But all I have right now is anger & fear & I am so desperate to remember what it’s like to hold a hand or to be kissed by another mouth & not have to be afraid of it (& I can’t even tell you the specifics of how I love for fear that the wrong person will see & out me before I am ready)

(& I am not ready)

(& in Texas & where you are reading this, I am not allowed)

AI

Other excerpts from the Anthology (click on an individual’s name to read more)

Dior Rouge by Leigh González

The First Kiss in a New Body by jo pereira

The Vans Half Cab Legend of Pasadena Heights by Josée Angel Ramirez