Stumbling Towards Caffeine

Pride and Being Bisexual I came out to myself when I was thirteen years old. My first girlfriend was the most intense, difficult, and amazing learning experience I have ever had. I was lucky. My parents accepted it. My family accepted it. My High School was open and had an LGBT club. I was able to have amazing experiences while being proud and visible with the people I loved.             Looking back now I took it for granted.   I was never bullied for being bisexual. I never lived in fear. I never feared enough to stay in the closet. There are so many people, There were so many people. When I was older my mom told me that when I told her all she could think was about Matthew Sheppard. This boy that was killed because such intense fear that it turned into hate. Now Orlando. That morning I looked at my phone. I pulled out my rainbow flag. I put it on my door. I cried. I yelled. How so much hate could turn into somethi...

I will pre-empt this by saying I have grieved over Bowie. Over Prince. Over countless people who made positive imprints on the world. Over cousins and aunts and uncles and in that moment, all death seems blindingly visible. There is death. Death feels like it can take and steal. Death is most visible when someone famous or noteworthy dies. People flock. People spend weeks lamenting over a figure that represented something or the World thought was important. But death also is invisible. Death takes the aunts, uncles, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and friends. Invisible death hurts. Invisible death is personal and lasts. Death happens every day. My mother says it seems there are a lot of people dying lately because they were visible. Because they were admired by the public. Invisible death is also there. Every day. Every second. Invisible death sometimes can be the most visible to people around it. One thing is the same. Death exists. Everything and everyone die...