Baby queer chronicles

Gay awakenings must happen all the time to big queers... or maybe not. I had many gay awakenings, but I fear to call her that no, she wasn't just my gay awakening. She was my gay confirmation. Something so simple left me awestruck. Gay panic.

The first time I saw her in a ponytail I was taken aback. She looked so professional, so corporate girly, so Pinteresty. Hair softly slicked back, her ears adorned with jewels, her fingers laid with rings, a soft confirmation to any queer. So pretty, I thought. As I said my goodbye, I spoke softly to the universe "please let me see her like that again."

Weeks passed. Baby gay panic happened like breaths. Then it was the last day. The last day I saw her, she looked gorgeous her face lightly done. I panicked. So pretty. If she had looked at me she'd see my eyes soften, my shoulders drop, a soft exhale. No man has ever brought such a feeling. I watched her, feeling satisfied just being in her orbit, seeing her move.

Her hands ran through her hair, softly gathering it up. My heart didn't skip a beat. no, it felt more like excitement through my body, like every cell lit up knowing what was happening. I sat up straighter... well, as straight as a baby queer can. The universe heard me? It heard me and made sure to wreck me in the process.

I sit here after a months, still awestruck by... a ponytail. I look for it in every ponytail, but it's not the same. I don't think they will ever compare to my first ponytail. No doubt I'm queer, because a ponytail made me cry, not from pain, but from this bizarre new feeling I feel for women.

How could someone not love women? To love them feels like loving the world. ❤️

— Baby Queer K