Today in my university cafeteria, I witnessed something that I'm sad to say I don't see a lot of.
I looked over to my left as I was putting my plate away and I saw two boys, both around the same height and about the same age as me (late teens, early twenties). Both were pretty good looking if I'm any judge, both had lightened hair (though on was blonde and one was grey). Both were looking at the other slightly shyly, as though afraid that the other might disappear. Both wore pants that, quite frankly, I think were too tight, but you can't win them all.
But the pants are not the important part of this story!
The important part was the look. I knew that look. I'd seen so many couples share that look that I can probably break it down into it's component emotions: Happiness, hope and a small amount of fear that this wasn't actually real. And then I grinned inwardly as the blond boy put out his hand and laced fingers with the grey boy.
My inner child started cheering in my head that they were brave enough to do that – I had witnessed so much homophobia in my last school, despite the GSA's best efforts. And then, with blondie shyly looking around the hall and grey's eyes firmly set forward, both smiling, they set out of the doors.
Blondie made eye contact with me a couple of times – the first time I grinned widely at him and the second time I think he wasn't certain if I was really smiling at him. I may have come across as a little creepy, but judging from the looks he was giving the room I think he needed the smile.
I was on my way out too, so I ended up following them out of the stairwell. Our stairwell opened to the outside, and that was when I witnessed something saddening: they both let go once they got outside. It looked to be a mutual decision, and one used his phone as a cover up of the reason he'd let go. The cellphone might have worked on me, if I hadn't seen that he was using one hand to browse it. They could have held hands, there was no reason for them to let go that quickly. Yes, it could have been sweaty palms, but in my limited experience it takes a bit before hands get sweaty. They let go too quicky for boys that had been looking to each other the way that I had just seen.
After that, they walked away together. I don't know where they went. I really wanted to follow them, but I decided not to risk a restraining order. They walked close together, perhaps close enough to betray the affection between them, but they made no move to hold the other's hand again.
I'm straight and in a relationship. I relish being able to hold his hand in public – it's such a simple act of affection, but it always makes me smile inside.
Watching blondie and grey in front of me made me wonder if they really were just that uncomfortable being in public. Though, when I think about it, I can imagine some of the reasons why.
I can imagine some of the looks – I received a few of those when I held my sister's hand in a shopping mall in America. We're only two years apart, so it's not as if it's necessary for me to help her navigate sidewalks. As my sister doesn't hug, this is the form of affection that we've reverted to. I was expecting my sister to hold my hand when I held it out to her, but what I wasn't expecting was the looks of hatred we received. My home country, Canada, is better. I can only remember one glare from a Canadian when I held my sister's hand in public. I can imagine that idiots glaring at you constantly would get tiring after a while.
When I was in high school, an acquaintance of mine (let's call him Tee) came out. One day, his boyfriend visited him at school and they sat in the commons holding hands. That was when I learned how low of a tolerance a lot of people have for anyone gay. A group of younger boys threw trash at them, called them names and describing how disgusting they thought it was that gay people existed. Three feet behind them, a heterosexual couple were practically humping each other against a wall, and yet no names were called, no one called them disgusting, no one threw trash at them. All Tee and his boyfriend were doing were holding hands, and apparently it was awful enough that these younger boys felt they had the right to criticize and make fun of the couple.
I am a coward, and I know that the introduction of either of these two things into a relationship would make me either reconsider the relationship or it would make me begin to hate everyone, become a recluse and continue the relationship in secret. I really can only imagine what these guys have to go through everyday, though before today it never really hit home. Something that I take for granted is a source of discomfort to other couples, simply because of people that can't fit anything fabulous in to their narrow world view.
As an atheist, I truly tire of people with narrow world views. However, I have to physically tell people that I don't believe in god, which means that I have to know you to be able to tell you. This wonderful system means few glares for me, though I've had one person stop talking to me, two try to save me and a fourth ask me why I don't go around killing people.
The reason I do not murder is this: because the idea of murder is unappealing and because I value human life, though there are occasionally a few people who are exceptions to the rule. Among them: people who cannot get it into their heads that there is a difference between being an atheist and a satanist, and people who cannot seem to accept that there might be more than one way of living.
Homophobes, I challenge you! If I can resist murdering the next person who asks me why I want to go to hell, then surely you can resist being such an obnoxious arsehole to people who really don't deserve it.
