If there is one thing
about being LGBT+
it’s that you never stop coming out.
A harmless conversation at work about exes
and the terrifying questions…
“how long were you with him?”
“how did you meet him?”
… they all emerge.
I inhale a sharp breath through gritted teeth,
all my muscles tense
and I desperately try and read the room
as fast as I can.
Do I correct them?
Do I answer vaguely?
Do I just go along with it?
Is it safe for me to come out here?
I’m taking too long
I need to answer
but how do I answer
when I don’t know what answer they will accept?
I look at my feet and mumble
“I was with her for a year or so…”

The panic rises.
Did they pick up on that?
Is this it?
My nails are digging into my palms
and I am chewing the inside of my lip
so hard it threatens to bleed
and I am shaking
and I want to cry.
Him, her, him, her, them, they…

“Ouch, that’s quite long for your age…
me and my ex…”

I exhale
and smile.
This time went well.
Next time might not.