The answer is yes

“Does everything have to be gay?”

He asks me, plaintive,

Clearly trying to appeal to my sense of

Proportion, propriety.

“Yes,” I say flatly. “I’m sorry,

(I’m not)

But everything has to be ‘gay’

From now on.”

Until it’s considered normal,

Unremarkable. Cliche.

As boring as the thousands of

Heteronormative rehashings

That make it to screens without fanfare

Or protest

Or pushback

Every goddamn year.

Until seeing a queer character

Is as commonplace as seeing

A white male protagonist

With no qualifications

Save the day just because.

Until I don’t light up

At the sight of each one.

Until it doesn’t feel like

A much-needed breath of fresh air.

Until I don’t cling to every one

With deep, real, instantaneous affection,

Because I’ve been starved for so long

That these crumbs are a feast by comparison.

Until the revelation that a character

Walks through the world like me

Is not a shocking plot twist

That no one saw coming.

Until no living person remembers a time

When queer characters

And people

Weren’t visible,

Open,

Proud,

Accepted.

Until you stop asking that stupid question,

Yes.

Everything.

Everything has to be gay.