And so there came a moment when I asked myself, “If I never speak to him again, will anything about me change? Will anything about my life be inherently better or worse?” And the answer, like the stable soliloquy of tv static was a resounding ‘No’. And just like that, I snuffed out any memory of him like a child excitedly blowing out a candle when the lights come on after dumsor. Let’s see what’s on TV.
“It’s not normal.” But it goes both ways.
It’s not normal for a man to love another man or a woman to love another woman. But it’s not normal to express that love before a certain prescribed time.
It’s not normal to be angry about anger towards women. But it’s not normal to be focused on the over-prevalence of that anger being directed at a specific subsect of women.
It’s not normal to expect that a woman will be the head of a household. But it’s not normal for her to value work over having and caring for children.
It’s not normal to be different. But it’s not normal to show any indifference.
Humanity, we have a lot of work to do.