“Oh what a queer child you are!”

I smile politely. Such an innocent statement with so much more implied than the poor old lady meant. She’s not wrong of course, both in the way she meant, and the way she doesn’t think of. Small town with straight road people, only they would stay. There’s more to experience, to learn about in the bigger parts of the world for the rest. You learn how to really relate to people, how to figure things out about others, how to hide things about yourself. . . You know, fun things! Like how to pretend to fit in, what’s worth faking or what isn’t, and find a place you really do fit in, though that last one is always harder than people say.

Live as yourself, live in the moment people say. But thinking about it now maybe they’re not trying to tell me this but tell themselves. Those that really do live in the moment know they can’t always live as themselves, they have to live as the moment demands. Those who live as themselves know they can’t live in the moment, they have to make sure they can be themselves in the future. Those who live as neither are miserable. Those who live as both are lying.

Different situations, same story, same situations different story, where do I fit in? How do I live? So many questions with so few answers and no one who can give the right answer and . . .

Ah, I almost took to long to respond, her smile will fade if I don’t say something now. Remember to be polite, remember to agree, remember not lie, remember not to say the full truth, remember . .  remember . . No that’s it. Now speak.

“I hear that a lot!”(smile, make sure it reaches your eyes)

 “I’m a strange person I guess.” (mutter, because you want to pretend you said something just this once, but quietly so she can’t hear, because you can’t be sure you’re safe.)

“And I’m certainly not straight.”