“In what way?”
“In any way.”
“Well, labels help us group ourselves, so we know which tribes we belong in.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Narrow shoulders are raised and dropped again.“Providing they’re not the be all and end all.We shouldn’t allow them to define us.And we should always remember that being one thing doesn’t preclude us from being another.”
“Hm.”I scratch my cheek, uncertain if that answer really helps.
“Think of it this way.You’re Dylan because someone named you that, and I’m Ronnie for the same reason, but neither of us change or cease to exist if we decide to become Clive or Marty, or if we have no name at all.The being or entity that we are remains the same regardless of the label we’re assigned.”
It makes sense, but isn’t necessarily helpful.
“What I’m saying, Dylan, is that labels only really matter to other people as a means of quantifying things.They’re shortcuts.Boxes we can file one another in so that we don’t have to dedicate so much brain power to our interactions.”
“I guess.”
“I think what’s more important here is why you’re asking?”
We’re straying dangerously close to matters I don’t want to discuss, but Ronnie’s not going to let me wriggle off without some sort of answer.I heave out a sigh.“I’m not sure the ones I’ve been assigned are correct.”
Ronnie blinks, and then doubles over with laughter.“So!Who gives a flying fuck, D?A good third of the population only attribute you to one group.The all-fags-must-die group.You’re not telling me you’re losing sleep over them?Seriously, darling, they’re not worth your time.”
A swift swish of my head dispels that notion.It’s not the haters who concern me.It’s my supposed tribe I’m concerned about.All the people who think we’re on a team together, and who are going to be butt hurt and outraged when they find out we’re different.That I’m not like them at all, that I am in fact a different sort of other.Dammit!I miss the tranquillity and simplicity of life at the cottage, and not having to deal with this shit.
I miss the raspy stubble I’d been sporting until tonight as I scratch my jawline.
“Dylan?”Ronnie bum shuffles along the banquette until we’re side by side.“Something’s eating you.Best cough it up.You know secrets aren’t half so heavy when they’re shared.”
I close my eyes again, trying to ground myself, but there are no answers in the darkness.Ronnie and I are good friends.We’ve known one another a long time, but I don’t feel able to open up and splurge it all like I might with Lorne.
“Dylan, you latched onto me like I was your only means of salvation, the least you can do is make a clean breast of why you considered it necessary to snog my chops off.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Well, duh!Something to do with Bask?”
Only in the vaguest of vaguest senses.
“The girl.”
Ronnie’s eyes gain a sort of inner luminosity.“Are you telling me you’ve been branching out?”
Yeah, not confirming or denying that.
“Fucking, or still looking?”
I shake my head, and rise.“I’m really sorry, Ronnie.It wasn’t my intention to muck up your evening.”
“You didn’t.Tiger, sit your arse down, this chat isn’t over yet, and the threads of it are way too intriguing for me to cut you loose.”
Ronnie pats the seat, but I’m not feeling overly compliant.In all likelihood I’ve indirectly said too much already, and it’s not as if I have ready answers to any questions Ronnie’s likely to ask.Answering the ones I’m posing myself is difficult enough.Fact is I’m enamoured by a person, and it’s highly inconvenient that she doesn’t have a dick.If she did, then this would all be terribly simple.As things stand, they’re not really about cocks or tits or pussies.It’s Kira as a whole, as an entity who’s got under my skin and infected me.I actually want to talk to her as much as I don’t.
“Dylan, fuck what the world thinks.Love whichever way works best for you.You don’t owe anybody anything, and God knows you’re overdue a bit of happiness.”
I don’t know that being with Kira is any guarantee of that.Maybe the initial spark will fizzle out, and I’ll realise that the hunt for Mr.Right is still on.Maybe I’ve already hosed any chance of us being a thing by acting like a dunce.There’s only one way to find out, and what I have realised through being here—failing to divulge any details to Ronnie—is that I actually need a resolution.
