That really resonates with me. I have not forgotten the existence of my first love, my memories remain in some manner or another.

I remember I thought he was beautiful. I remember my intense desire to spend all my time with him. I remember wanting inexplicably to kiss him.

I felt those things. But I also felt fear and revulsion.

So my memories are tinged with darkness. Sometimes my body memories include a rapidly beating heart, not the tachycardia of joy, but the fight-or-flight response of panic.

We deserve our memories, and I hope one day we live in a world where most of us delight in them.

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com