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Quarter-Light -- ©Brenda Carter  Her lifetime of saying no is propped up by such pathetic excuses . Looking to our lovers to make up for our early pain; isn't that just the nature of human beings, of love, of loneliness? Only if you believe in "God's plan" does it make sense to look into every dyke's background for the tragic flaw that derailed her from the hetero track.
As for "gender confusion," I'm a lot more worried about how painfully constricting gender certainty can be. Besides, some of the bravest people I know have pitched their tents in a backcountry where the boundaries between male and female are enforced laxly, if at all. For once, I'm not flinching at my anger. I resent the way Sandy has forced me to examine my love for Rin, and for the improbable assortment of women now moving into the street. Somehow, I feel I've been manipulated into searching us all out in order to confirm that her sad theory isn't true. Not that I have any doubts about my conclusions, but the act of questioning dishonors what I hold dear. I pull a tuft of grass out of the dirt, stop myself from doing it again. All this self-righteousness is fine as far as it goes, but I also know that I am, as Jonelle is so fond of saying, "Looking for logic in all the wrong places." Sandy's absence tonight isn't about the strength of arguments; it's about untenable choices and implacable consequences and more than one kind of desire. I remember Sandy's friend who set off my gaydar in Ojai and let myself feel how strong the pull must be for Sandy at times, how great the threat of chaos that keeps her tethered to her doctrine, that keeps her pushing me away.
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