The last Pride I went to was the only one I'd attended with my ex-wife. We went with her friends, some of which I wasn't sure how I felt. They seemed out and proud, but destructively. They could only justify getting away with what they did because they were white, cis men. It was the end of a long and odd day. I wasn't drunk or happy like I thought I'd be. I was annoyed with myself because I felt like I hadn't made my ex happy with how I behaved. Not that I'd done anything wrong - but it was one of those "did I do anything right either, or?" I remember not feeling happy before the thing that caused the public argument, but I can't put my finger on why.

We're getting ready to leave for home because she's tired, and I am too. A friend of mine came up from the suburbs to pregame before we left for the parade, and I take my phone out to text her that we were heading home and drop my ex's hand to do so. I'm distracted and didn't see or hear her greet her two gay male friends that'd we also took the train to the parade. I didn't understand how or why they were making out when I looked up from my phone, but they were.

It was weird to see my (then) girlfriend of (maybe?) six months making out with a boy I'd only met hours before. A boy who was the boyfriend of my girlfriend's friend. Fuck. It's hard to tell stories and not use names because I get a little confused when writing it out. I'm not a fan of using names because I don't like making fake ones up, and god forbid my ex ever read this - the last thing I need is for her ego to be stroked by reading her name.

We got into it, she and I, and public arguments are not my thing. I'd much rather be quiet about it and talk it through in a private setting. I grew up seeing too many blowups and blowouts between my mom and partners to want to repeat that shit. But, my ex had an issue with me being upset at what I saw.

"But Jen, he's gay, and I'm gay, so what does it matter?"

"You're both dating other people!!!" I turned and yelled. I actually yelled in the street like the daughter of my mother. Spitting image. Dolly would be so proud.

That's what my mistake was. I shouldn't have yelled back at my ex. I'd been walking quickly through the crowd of drunken, sweaty bodies listening to her call after me but being too angry and shocked to be able to stand still or look at her. We'd never discussed any kind of openness to our relationship. We were monogamous, and she broke my trust openly.

After I turned around and said what I said, things get blurry. We move off onto some sidestreet to continue our conversation. She apologizes and gets upset when I don't forgive her.

It was the first time she broke my trust, but certainly not the last.

There were so many signs telling me to leave; I can't look back and honestly understand why I didn't. Not from the current mindset that I have. I still hold compassion for the person who did what she thought was best and am happy she's evolved into me.

I'm proud of myself.

I didn't attend any events during Pride Month, and I feel okay with that because I still somehow feel fulfilled in my queerness. Even more so than I ever have before. Isn't that fucking beautiful?

i remember the spring that turned to summer

that time we spent like every night together

you painted my nails the same way you did yours

often a little drunk and playful, you were always patient with me

holding my hand so softly

kissing the backs of them before applying a coat

you never did me wrong, even when i thought you did

i just wasn’t in the best state

you tried to take it slow

but i burn so quickly sometimes

here we are again

and i want to do it better

slow down

stop time

with you