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“Queer people are not taught to think about our future. We spend so much of our lives digging up our history, focused on the legal and sexual economy of the present.
In this time of plague, climate and economic crisis, when making plans feels futile and overwhelming, remember this:
Imagining your Queer future is a form of prayer.”
-Leo Herrera
“What do you want our future to look like?”
“What?” Charlie asks, taken aback by his boyfriend’s unusually deep question.
They’re both home from uni for the summer, and they’re lying on a hill near their old secondary school looking up at the stars.
“Being here, it’s just making me think about our past. How we started, the shit we survived. And it’s kind of a miracle that we’re still here, you know? Everything working against us, but we just kept going.”
“You mean like, my mental health stuff?” Charlie says quietly, looking over to see Nick’s thoughtful face bathed in moonbeams and light pollution.
“Yeah, but my stuff too. Coming out, David, my dad… moving so far away for uni, having to adjust to all that. Even just like, I don’t know, holding your hand as we walk down the street. The looks we get sometimes.” Nick shifts his body, rolling onto his side to face Charlie. “Overall, I know we’ve been really lucky. So many queer kids get kicked out of their homes, or worse… but sometimes it just feels like, I don’t know… it just feels like existing as queer is really hard. Like the world makes it hard.”
Charlie nods. “It’s like people are scared of seeing queer people happy, because it means that the arbitrary rules that they live by don’t actually matter. Like we’re always told that the key to happiness is to grow up, get good grades, find a nice opposite-sex partner to marry and settle down with and have two kids and a nice house and a garden. And we’re never supposed to make waves, never deviate from the path, never ask questions or try anything new or seek above our station. And it’s bullshit.”
“Growing up, I obviously knew that gay people existed, but I sort of thought it was just a different way of being straight.” Nick smiles, laughing lightly as his past naivety. “Like okay it’s two men or two women, but it’s basically the same, you know? You still do all the same things, still follow the same path.”
“Homonormativity,” Charlie provides, giving Nick the language for what he’s trying to describe. “Slotting a same sex couple into an otherwise heteronormative script.”
Nick pokes one of Charlie’s dimples and Charlie crinkles his nose.
“You’re a proper little nerd, you know that?” Nick teases.
Charlie shrugs. “Putting that uni education to work,” he says with a grin.
Nick reaches over to take Charlie’s hand, pulling it up to his lips to give it a kiss. “When we’re alone together, just you and me, our love feels so normal. So natural. Loving you is as easy as breathing.”
The younger man feels his eyes get a bit misty. He’s used to his boyfriend being a sap, but by god. Warn a guy.
“But when we’re out together, I still get a lump in my throat sometimes reaching out to hold your hand. It’s like my body wants to touch you, always, instinctively… but my brain says stop, wait, look around, check for risk. I never want my love for you to be the reason that anything bad happens.”
Now it’s Charlie’s turn to reach out, moving his free hand up to his boyfriend’s face to gently stroke his cheek. Nick leans into the touch, nuzzling into Charlie’s palm.
“Is this because of that thing that happened? The attack?”
Nick nods, and Charlie feels his heart shatter all over again. There had been an assault a few towns over; a young queer couple had ended up in hospital. The physical injuries were all repairable, but the trauma had rippled out like a stone thrown in a pond, impacting rainbow communities across the country.
“Look at me,” Charlie murmurs, and Nick complies. “Your love… nothing bad could ever come from your love. It’s too good.”
Nick sniffles. “Their love was good too.”
“You’re damn right it was. Is. It wasn’t their love that caused this. It was other people’s hate,” Charlie tsks, shuffling closer so that their bodies curl together on the grass. “If anyone ever sees our love and thinks anything bad, that’s on them. That’s their problem. Our love is fucking magic.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah it is, baby,” Charlie whispers, pressing his lips onto Nick’s forehead. Nick sighs, and Charlie feels some of the tension melt out of his boyfriend’s body. “Would planning our future make you feel better?”
Nick nods.
Charlie hums. “Okay, darling. Well, I do actually want to get married. Not because I need the Crown to legitimise our relationship or whatever, but because I want to say fuck you to everyone who ever tried to keep that right away from us.”
“Feisty,” Nick chuckles.
“What do you want for our future?”
“Hmm,” Nick considers. “I want kids. Or at least one kid. I know it’ll be more expensive and like… more of a process for us. But I feel like we have so much love to give, and the world needs more people who were raised in homes full of love and laughter. And magic,” he tags on with a wink.
Charlie smiles. “Surrogacy, foster care, or adoption? Or do you care?”
“I think I’d be open to any of them, but… nevermind, it’s silly.”
“Tell me,” Charlie says softly, raking his fingers through Nick’s hair.
“I kind of feel like…a pull… towards fostering older kids. Like, queer teens who are no longer welcome in their own homes any more,” Nick admits.
“Why on earth would that ever be silly?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it sound a bit idealistic? I wouldn’t want to have the attitude of like, trying to save them or whatever. Just be a safe harbour in the storm, you know?”
Charlie leans over to kiss his boyfriend, trying to communicate the swell of affection and admiration and love that he finds himself unable to put into words.
“You’re really good at being a safe harbour during a storm,” Charlie murmurs against Nick’s lips when they finally break apart.
“So are you, mon amour,” Nick whispers in response. “Your love changed my life. Changed my whole world.”
“Your love is my home.”
“Revolutionary.”