Tiny Love Stories: ‘I never saw my parents kiss’
Blink with love
Growing up in the ’50s, I never saw my parents kiss, hug, or say “I love you.” Instead, like my childhood, their marriage was steeped in sarcasm and silence. After my father’s winter death, my mother asked for a copy of the messages on their answering machine – still flashing from when he was alive. When I dubbed the original tape, I heard them whisper, “Sweetie,” “Honey,” “Dear.” Their promises were interspersed with kisses that smacked into the air. Their longest message contained the memory of them necking in the backseat of their old white Pontiac Bonneville, their love steaming up the windows. — Margaret Mariam Rosenthal
Why not?
One night in a goth club in Tokyo changed my life. I met Yukiro, a six-foot-tall Swedish drag queen who dressed like Frankenstein’s bride and cackled “O-ho-ho-ho!” After we broke up the dance floor, I asked Yukiro if he wanted to hang out again. He replied with his catchphrase, “Why not?” A decade later, we’ve cackled and laughed in nightclubs in a dozen countries. Yukiro opened my eyes to countless others who share his fierce courage, from the Lebanese trans artists to the Indian hijra (third gender). When outsiders ask why a drag queen is my best “creepy friend,” I answer, “Why not?” — La Carmina
Refuse to meet her gaze
Sometimes with strange love, you don’t realize it’s love until it’s gone. The last time I saw her was almost a year ago at our finals. She was a few rows in front of me. Through the corner of my eye I kept seeing her gaze in my direction, maybe unintentionally, maybe not. When she got up to join the procession of graduates, this time she looked directly at me. I refused to look at her. Now that we’re states apart and lost all contact, I can’t shake the nagging feeling of a missed opportunity. — Grace delVecchio
Never their stepmother
The first time we met, all four young faces stared at me with great uncertainty. My boyfriend’s kids ranged in age from 2 to 12. Over time, the kids and I weren’t strangers anymore. Finally they accepted me. Soon I started to love them. It is now 13 years since their father and I separated, but my relationship with them has not been broken. On the contrary, it has become stronger. I’ve been invited to a wedding and many graduations, and I’m always happy to be there. I was never their stepmother, but I am their family, just as they are mine. — Conny Minsky