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selkie at 07:12pm on 18/10/2004
selkie at 07:12pm on 18/10/2004...Okay, of all things. Thoughts on being gay.
Selk has thoughts, you ask?
Yes, yes I do.
Now, I live in the Northeast, and I plan to live in the Northeast all my days, assuming I never emigrate. It's easy to become complacent about being gay here. No one wants you dead, I mean, within wisdom and reason. No one's really going to cuss at you for a PDA on the street. Progressive, right?
Then why do I have to jump through so many documentary hoops before my girlfriend is my domestic partner is my wife?
I mean, Jesus, have you seen this paperwork?
[Well. Jesus probably hasn't. But.]
You have to plan a year out for this stuff.
And while you're planning and crying and juggling and praying and tearing out your white-streaked hair, some friends support you, and some friends fall by the wayside muttering you're insane, and even the ones who were okay when the two of you were 'together' balk at you wanting to do it the same way the straight people do.
I'm just wondering why, is all. Ceteris parabus, you fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You share joint responsibility for a home. Your home burns down, G-d avert. Who has just as much right to have their walls, their furniture and their treasures carefully reinstated by the insurance company?
Your spouse.
You fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You share the car. You're in a wreck, G-d forbid. Both of you are hurt, but one of you severely enough that you cannot make your own medical decisions. Who decides, in the real crunch of the moment, when the living will can't be found and you can't speak for yourself? [To test this theory, have a heart attack sometime. Well, don't, please. But this one I've done.]
Your spouse.
You fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You have beautiful and beloved children. You die. Who assumes custody and responsibility for your children, when you've gone?
Your spouse.
...It's not even something that gets a second thought, is it, if you're straight?
Well.
Try it when you're a woman who loves a woman, and you discover that you may have no right to what you thought was yours and granted.
Selk has thoughts, you ask?
Yes, yes I do.
Now, I live in the Northeast, and I plan to live in the Northeast all my days, assuming I never emigrate. It's easy to become complacent about being gay here. No one wants you dead, I mean, within wisdom and reason. No one's really going to cuss at you for a PDA on the street. Progressive, right?
Then why do I have to jump through so many documentary hoops before my girlfriend is my domestic partner is my wife?
I mean, Jesus, have you seen this paperwork?
[Well. Jesus probably hasn't. But.]
You have to plan a year out for this stuff.
And while you're planning and crying and juggling and praying and tearing out your white-streaked hair, some friends support you, and some friends fall by the wayside muttering you're insane, and even the ones who were okay when the two of you were 'together' balk at you wanting to do it the same way the straight people do.
I'm just wondering why, is all. Ceteris parabus, you fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You share joint responsibility for a home. Your home burns down, G-d avert. Who has just as much right to have their walls, their furniture and their treasures carefully reinstated by the insurance company?
Your spouse.
You fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You share the car. You're in a wreck, G-d forbid. Both of you are hurt, but one of you severely enough that you cannot make your own medical decisions. Who decides, in the real crunch of the moment, when the living will can't be found and you can't speak for yourself? [To test this theory, have a heart attack sometime. Well, don't, please. But this one I've done.]
Your spouse.
You fall in love. You marry. You cohabitate. You have beautiful and beloved children. You die. Who assumes custody and responsibility for your children, when you've gone?
Your spouse.
...It's not even something that gets a second thought, is it, if you're straight?
Well.
Try it when you're a woman who loves a woman, and you discover that you may have no right to what you thought was yours and granted.
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