1989

"Purple rain"

New York City is a whirlwind of noise and energy, but under the stars and great universe that I admired, I found a sanctuary. For me, the stars have always been more than just twinkling lights; they've been my lifeline. As a closeted lesbian in a time when hiding my truth was a necessity, to stare at the night sky and feel as though your minuscule issues are of no importance, is strangely comforting. As a college student studying astronomy I would imagine the stars shined for each loving relationship that blossoms, which is something I longed for in my own life, for within fantasies of my mind lay the only place where my desires could be laid bare without fear. It's not fun to be a fag in 1989...

The beauty of the universe is my only comfort, to look upon them helps me cope with the harsh reality of my time. What if it was 10 years later would everything be accepted, what about 20 years or even 30? How long do I have to wait before I can build a life with a woman I love. Gay marriage isn't legalized even in a accepting state like New York, how long do I have to be dehumanized before I can call a woman my wife...

Hangouts at coffee-shops each Sunday tend to also tend to mellow out the madness of my inner monologue. It's gives me an opportunity to get some work done, as well as partaking in my weekly gossip sessions with my best friend. That's practically all I live for, there's only have two reasons my obituary hasn't been written yet...and it's so fucking pathetic.

Michelle has the best gossip though, it's always been this way since we became friends in the 10th grade. She always knew who was fucking who and who was smoking in the bathrooms. In fear of our friendship fizzling out we decided to rendezvous at the same coffee shop once a week. It's been a weekly tradition for the last 3 years. We'd just gossip and catch up, no surprise she started writing for the news paper, I'm happy for her at least her talent for talking shit didn't completely go to waste. However I know she would never gossip about me, she was the first person I came out to, actually the only person. When I told her, she didn't judge, make a snarky remark...anything. She just sat me down and comforted me, since immediately after I told her I broke down crying, heartbroken by the possibility of dying alone or dying because of who I love in a hate filled attack.

In this week's session of gossip with Jess and Michelle, I was talking about how I'm over just staring at the sky and I have nothing to bring color to my life anymore. "Dude I got the solution to your situation. MUSIC." she professed with a shimmer in her voice. "Do you want me to make music?! You know I can't sing bitch." I said confused. "No bitchhhh, you need to listen to music. Go to a vynil shop and browse a bit, maybe you'll find yourself a hottie." she said with a wink. "Can you shushhh, do you want my ass to get beat. Also why a record shop?!" I questioned. "Cause that shit is cool." she stated.

She yanked out a pen from her purse and a napkin from the table and jotted something down. "Here go find yourself a girl." she whispered with a wink. I love her supportiveness but sometimes she needs a filter I love her though. "Um this is quite kind but all the record stores I go to only have men who work there and if they see I'm wearing a shirt from a band it leads to a game of trivia. Also do you know any girls who collect vinyls. How am I gonna find a love interest in a record store of all places?" I rambled on. "Just read the name of the fucking shop. It's 'Mrs Vinyl' it's a woman owned shop and only ladies work there so it's a safe haven for women. I'm not stupid Jess." she reassured. " NOW GO FORTH, go before they close." she commanded like an old wizard from a movie. "Okay!" I replied as I grabbed my rollerblades and skated to the address.

Luckily the vinyl store wasn't too far away, I reached the store in 10 minutes and stood before the intimidating glass doors. They were closed so I assumed that I was too late, however when I peeked through the glass of the doors. There was a lady, she looked about my age restocking the shelves of the store. She was beyond gorgeous! She had the most gorgeous, curled hair, and prettiest bronze coloured skin. When she turned around to look at who was standing at the glass doors, I could see her perfect face. The girl had gorgeous eyes, her pupils looked almost completely blacked out, that wasn't the case. If you looked closely, you could admire the rust-coloured undertone of her eyes accompanied by a gold highlight, only visible when the light shined at the perfect angle. She wore the most badass clothes. She had on a Metallica shirt; you could notice she cropped it herself; I thought it was admirable. She also wore black jeans and a pair of all stars. She was breathtaking to say the least, however staring at a girl from outside her work while she restocks, is something that will earn you a restraining order and time in prison for stalking. Also, it's just creepy. So, I decided I'm going to man up a bit, stop being a pussy and walk into the store.