white gays have it easier.
well the suburban teen white gays do.
you know the ones i’m fontin’ about.
the ones who live in the big nice houses in some small town.
a place where everyone knows everyone.
you can’t take a shit without everyone knowing.
in the big nice house,
they eat breakfast as a family and actually converse.
he picks his friends up every morning and they go get coffee.
they meet and eat together at lunch.
in my head,
as a black fox from the hood,
whose growing up was different,
it seems like they have it easier.
some can come out to those same parents with ease.
we gotta wonder if we come out,
will we ever see our parents again.
so i watched “love, simon” tonight.
a fav foxholer in my dms recommended it to me.
it left me feeling all warm and fuzzy in the end…
…but that’s the story of the white suburban gay.
as much as it was a beautiful love story,
i can’t relate to that too tough.
it’s a fantasy that often looks good on paper.
in this case,
“white teen suburban gay comes out,
his parents and everyone in the town support him,
he ended up meeting the wolf of his dreams,
and they kiss on a ferris wheel.”
not to mention,
he’s still friends with the jackal who outed him.
it was pure fan fiction.
the movie gave hope to all the cute teen suburban white gays,
but i had to wonder…
What did it give the teen blacks gays who watched it?
even as an adult,
i had questions.
some of us weren’t lucky to have a close knit family.
ones who would support us after such an announcement.
we don’t always get love,
our bedrooms don’t look like a studio apartment,
and i don’t even know what a “winter festival” looks like.
as much as i enjoyed “love, simon”,
i realize that was/will never be my life.
it’s fun to live in the fantasy sometimes tho.