The weekend brought a strange mix of old and new. Friends from eons ago and the boyfriend of slightly less than a year. Young ones and old ones. Some from the old world and some with no conceptualization of how it was for us "back in the day".It is impossible to tell "normal" people what it was like growing up on the outer fringes of the right wing. We make jokes and sometimes try to give them insight. They just don't get it. They don't understand the insanity of it. My partner once asked me if it was "like on TV" - Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell or the ilk.
Sort of. It was all that and so very much more. What you can't see is the interior. You can't know the mind-bashing, spirit-crushing, crazy shit that really happened (happens) over and over. When you try to explain it, there is a discernible tipping point where people from the "outside" glaze over and stop listening. They can't imagine such a thing. The simply cannot take it in.
We talked, my partner and I, about the conversations the duo and I had this weekend. I don't know if it's important for him to understand. Hell, I don't understand.
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