3k, lestappen, part 1 of auroras and sad prose
max and charles meet in florence at the turn of the century – the 15th/16th century that is
excerpt:
Max turns around, scanning the room for a servant passing by with a tray of crystal glasses, when he hears laughter again, but not of the squeaking-hinges-variety, no, this time it’s a clear, dazzling laugh, bright as a bell, ringing around the room and Max’s gaze instinctively jumps over the people gathered around to find the source of it. When his eyes find the culprit, he has to lean back in awe against the balcony railing for a moment.
Imagine being a man who’s only ever been with women. You even have a son with one of them. You’re in your thirties and you begin to question some things about your sexuality. It’s terrifying and confusing, but most of all it’s lonely.
You keep second guessing yourself, minimising your own emotions, rejecting yourself, avoiding all situations and conversations about dating and romance and sex, making silly jokes, keeping quiet and still and vague as much as possible.
Wanting to be invisible.
And imagine that you have one person in your life that you would like to talk to about all of this. You want him to help you make sense of it, to let you say these things out loud, to make you feel not so completely alone with it.
You long for him to see you and accept you.
However, for reasons you don’t get, he can’t seem to shut up about how straight you are, and each time he brings it up, it makes it even more difficult for you to talk to him.
So you say nothing, and keep going.
