That relatable gay dream of running away,
Wind blowing through what's left of your hair,
the first ties to be cut.

That relatable gay fear, questions you'd rather not asked and that subsequent relatable gay sorrow after the answers.

That relatable gay loneliness, all hollow spaces and devoted secrecy.
Bitten back tongues and hidden colors.

That relatable gay moment of finding love in your friends.
Not the kind that you kiss but the kind you hold dear in the night,
as tears drip from cheeks to shoulders.

That relatable gay plan of holidays with your other gay friends, a real family, the one who would love you no matter what.
Cheers and queers and all too far away.

That relatable gay longing for love-
true love-
Like the kind they never show in fairytales,
Real and supportive, never hidden away or forgotten.

That relatable gay anger,
Boiling from injustice always under the surface,
Waiting to erupt in pointless shouts of grief for a world that was not built for me.

That relatable gay exhaustion, hostile slurs and benignant apathy blending together into a reality of unending fights just to keep on existing.

So when someone asks me what makes you a community I show them all those relatable gay moments of anguish and loss, of solemn support and stolen minutes.

And I tell them of how terrible it is that they are so very relatable,
But how wonderful it is that we could at least live through them together.