Monday, August 01, 2011

When Do *I* Get To Be Affectionate?

Today, we're talking about PDA.  You know, those nauseatingly ridiculous public displays of affection that couples who are newly in love (and sometimes oldly in love) demonstrate for us poor innocent bystanders.

*Alert: hypocrisy forthcoming!*

Let me let you in on a little secret:  I detest PDA!  Other people's PDA, that is.  I'm that guy that screams in derision "get a room, for God's sake!" to the unsuspecting exhibitionists.  Let me let you in on another secret: I love PDA!  My own, that is.  I love walking down the street holding my husband's hand.  I love being able to give him a quick peck as we part, him off to the Apple store, me off to (the now bankrupt) Borders.  I even love other gay couples' PDA.  It's sweet.  It's adorable. It makes me smile and feel *warm fuzzies* all over.

The other day, I was on the last leg of my final flight back up to Vermont (at last, J will be coming home soon, and we will drive back home on Wednesday!)  There was a guy on the plane that for some reason annoyed me.  I didn't know why.  Have you ever just looked at someone and thought "geez, his face just irks me for some reason!"  I blamed it on sleep deprivation and general grumpiness.

Later during the flight though, it dawned on me as he incessantly leaned over to kiss his significant other: it was the PDA.  The thoughts running through my head ran something like this:

"Oh God.  What is that, the 3rd time he's leaned in for a kiss?  Now the 4th?  Jesus!  How the hell is she allowing this to happen to her?  Is she not peeved by his neediness?!  This is disgusting!"

And then it hit me.  I was jealous.  I was jealous that this young guy was able to so freely show natural affection and love to his lady, and vice versa.  But every time I do it, I have to wonder if I'll turn around to meet a fist to my face, or a bullet to my head.

Straight people have no idea how lucky they are to be able to express themselves without fear of reproach or violence.  They have no idea what it feels like to put up artificial walls with the ones they love so as to appear merely acquaintances when in fact you are lovers.

I hate that my society still forces me to pretend to be other than I am.  And I want to know...when do *I* get to be affectionate, dammit?!