I’m visiting Chicago for the weekend. And this afternoon I spent a few hours exploring the streets of Boystown, Chicago’s official (& the nation’s oldest officially-recognized) “gay quarter”.
I probably should have gone on a different day — I hadn’t realized there was an event going on which led lots of people to visit this part of town to tour many of the venues tasting the food & drinks & vibes, so it was crowded and felt “touristy”.
Still, I was able to enjoy it to some extent and satisfy my curiosity at least partly. But, as I often do in similar places/occasions, I also felt sad and lonely. I see all these queer people, mostly gay men, and wish I were really one of them, integrated into a friends group of gay guys all going out together for fun. I see these groups of gay men out together and I long to be one of them and I feel the clear, sharp pain that I’m not.
When it comes to gay men, I’m still the outsider, and I’m afraid I always will be, and this is terribly painful for me.
The Little Prince and the Fox 