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#you can come back but it wont be the same

damagedcoda6669 · 3 days

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hope you dont mind the ask, was just kinda curious ^^

what was your mindset in coming back to the internet and did you expect the kind of reaction that you got?

i wasnt expecting the positive response AT ALL. coming back my mindset was something liek "im only doing this so i can post my art again, im only doing this becuz im passionate abt my artwork. nobodys gonna believe me and im sure only a handful of ppl r gonna be rational abt this whole thing, and im gonna have 2 deal with a mob of ppl out 2 get me and another mob who wants 2 sexualize me and stalk me, but if i can post my artwork and just ignore it itll be fine."

and then i posted my vid and every1 was so sympathetic and understanding and pleasant 2 me. ive nevr experienced that kind of basic humanity b4 on the internet, and it was shocking. every1 was so nice abt my struggles with abuse and homelessness inparticular, which was honestly an afterthought in my comeback vid becuz i didnt think any1 would care. i didnt expect anything close 2 the reaction i got, and it gave me a lot of hope and peace. i felt safe posting online 4 the first time.

i cant say that i still feel the same, after the borderline 12 situation happening only 6 days after my vid ive basically been retraumatized and have severe anxiety surrounding the internet again. it was my fault and was incredibly disrespectful, hurtful, and wrong, i will never deny that i was wrong in the first place and did something horrible. but the sheer harassment and dogpiling wasnt warranted and was arguably worse than what i did 2 begin with. it was blown out of proportion and it only took 6 days 4 every1 2 stop liking me and treating me like a person. that situation made me realize that despite the overwhelming positivity that i received, there will always be so many ppl who want 2 take it away from me, who want 2 make the internet unsafe 4 me again, who want 2 see my downfall. i wont let them win, i will ALWAYS strive 2 want 2 be the best person i can be and better myself everyday, i will ALWAYS want 2 learn from my mistakes and improve. but knowing this, posting again feels liek walking on eggshells.

2 summarize.. i have vry mixed feelings abt the internet as of rn. im so so so so so so so grateful 4 the support and i love all of u, but i know that it could be taken away from me at any minute due 2 something that i will nevr foresee. i nevr come online with the intention 2 be problematic or controversial or hateful, i just liek posting art!!! i would nevr do something offensive or hurtful on purpose, but im scared of doing it by accident again.

didnt think thisd be so long!!! or venty!!! i need 2 talk less mayb.. lol ^^;

#jack.txt #birdie #damagedcoda6669 #rant #vent

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senseearly · 1 day

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Thinking about laios and marcille are nervous whenever they go in their laishuro and farcille dates, and frequently ask kabru for advice because to them hes like this casanova or something like that, but in reality hes a nervous wreck as they are but in kabumisu dates

(Like yeah generally kabru is at ease when with mithrun, and is more honest/relaxed, but i think when they do label themselves as something romantic -- and potentially leading to marriage -- while Mithrun works on slowly but surely getting back his desires, which includes specific desires for a romantic partner, the tension and overthinking would set in. Does he like the food? Does he like this gift? Am I doing enough??? Not to mention that there are cultural differences between them, which Kabru knows very well, so I can see him worrying a lot about the future of their relationship, which is something that he wants to sustain, until he is old and dying, because he wants Mithrun, he is selfish about Mithrun. And Mithrun also has his own worries, perhaps more down the line, but in a very early courtship Kabumisu he'll be figuring out what he wants to do and if he likes doing this and comparing them to what his old self used to do -- then realizes that the intricacies of elven social rituals and cues are a nuisance to him now)

(As for laishuro and farcille: i think laios will be nervous once he starts courting toshiro, because while they may have settled their differences and talked honestly about their feelings, its the awareness that he might be frustrating someone or not understanding what the other wants/needs making him nervous about all of this. Especially since shuro is special to him, and i would say laios' past attempts at courtships/relationships are not that successful, especially since the thing about his first fiance broke off. One thing id like to note is that toshiro is equally nervous about it, one because there is more pressure to 'keep the best appearances' in the early stage of courtship, two i think the culture that shuro grew up w emphasizes a lot on class differences, and he might get intimated with laios new status as king or feel that as of this time he has not yet achieved things that makes him deserving of laios. If his own father wont acknowledge him until he proves himself, how he can be someone important to laios? Then i thimk these conflicts resolves by the same resolution in their first conflict: honesty and open communication. Of course there will be hiccups, but them -- especially shuro -- being direct while also understanding how the other feels is important for their relationship to flourish.

Farcille on the other hand i think marcille's nervousness comes from the fact that she has never been in a relationship before. Her view of romance comes from her parents -- which i think for her she views as something precious but a small but loud part of her thinks its inevitably tragic -- and her novels -- which is just full of melodrama, falin certainly wont be involved in a love triangle, right? RIGHT??? -- and so really she has no experience. While she thinks that falin has boys and girls down on her knees begging for her attention until falin confesses that she thinks that she is too weird for marcille. That in the past shes viewed as weird and creepy for her magical abilities, and picked on probably by people in her village. That its only marcille and their companions that treated her like a person. Obv marcille is horrified to hear that, because how could they think of you like that, *mentions how great and kind falin is x10* and falin laughs and says how she thinks marcille is great too. And that smooths out their nerves for the rest of their date)

#kabumisu #laishuro #farcille #i have a lot of thoughts about laishuro and farcille actually #i think theyre great!!#but mostly i like to think theyre all just nervous wrecks #except for mithrun whos nervousness develops in a slow pace #it hits him how much he wants kabru to like him when his brother start talking about #embarrassing childhood stories of mithrun

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vvmylove · 2 days

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Can you do a Gitae Kim vs kwak Jichang who will wins reader heart headcanon?

Who will win readers heart?

May contain some suggestive ideas

Gitae

Okay I can understand that he is hot and "oh please ruin my life," but I don't know much about him. He is very cold-blooded and won't hesitate to take another person's life for his own satisfaction.

He gives off the same vibes as Eugene💀.

Hear me out: You cannot tell me Gitae is bad in bed- is swear this man is aggressive and will use you- some people may be into that. I mean, I wouldn't mind being tossed around (by goo)

I have a sense that even though he may be boy trash(positive), he is very loyal and protective. Insane but in a positive way. He will kill for you, he will die for you, he will stay by your side no matter what.

Would come home after a long fight with flowers and a box of cigarettes talking about "Short-cake, I got ya my favorite beer (emphasis on HIS favorite) but you wouldn't mind it. He does seem like the type to rub your back afterwards.

Would drive you around in his little junk car he spent a fortune trying to fix while blasting music. He seems like a careless driver, but anything for the trill ya know! He would drive at night on the highway, blasting music as he slams his foot on the gas pedal. One hand will be on your thigh while the other on the steering wheel.

He is very carefree about things. It doesn't matter if you dress like a slut or go out in lingerie because this man can FIGHT. If any man looks your way, he will just throw some sort of weapon at him. There is no need for him to go over there and kick his ass when anything around him can be used as a weapon.

THIS MAN WILL SPOIL YOU! Doesn't matter if he doesn't have money, he will find and spoil you. Though, he wont put in much effort into spoiling you. He will just be like "take my card babe," while he goes to kiss Charles' ass.

This dude? WOULD RUN AWAY WITH YOU!! All you gotta do is say so and this man will sweep you off your feet and start walking out the door. He wouldn't mind living in a cabin, as long as you cook. Will hunt a bear with his bare hands.

Jichang

They say the guys with a J name will mess your life up, WRONG!!! (unless yall break up). this FINE MAN will treat you right. Yall already KNOW that this man is classy. Will treat you right. Very Loyal.

I lowkey feel like this dude has attachment issues. He can only focus on one thing (person) at a time. So you gotta make sure his eyes aren't on anyone else's.

Though, he would love spoiling you. He would put more thought into it, buying your favorite things. He would rent out a venue just because you said you wanted to dance, buying you an expensive dress that you saw on Pinterest, a display of food on the table as he stands there in his suit. "Princess, this is all for you."

He would make a house a home- you cannot tell me this man doesn't know how to cook. All you need to do is give him a recipe and watch him cook. He will pick you up by the waist and place you on the counter. "Give me a min hon," he says before placing a peck on the lips, then goes back to cooking.

WILL HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR YOU!!!! IDC IDC

Stares at you in awe all the time idc idc this man STARES at you.

He is the comforter, always comforting you. He will cuddle with you in his arms, play with your hair, feed you sweets, all while whispering cute little things in your ear. I fear this man loves romance a little too much.

WILL TRY TO GET INSPIRATION TO TREAT YOU RIGHT OFF TV SCENES. Hear me out. In a movie he will see some cringe kissing scene reenact it with you. Its more like, you both are on a date outside, walking by the beach, he would spin you around by grabbing onto your shoulder then kiss you. This cringe mf.

I got a lot of good things to say about this man idk hes just a lover.

I think it depends on the man you prefer. We are all delulu here. If you prefer a more insane and possessive (Gitae) or a more calm and classy man (Jichang).

#Wow prob the second ask ive ever gotten LMAO #please how dare you compare my perfect man jichang to that trash gitae #I dont hate gitae hes just- gives serial killer vibes #hot but nothing good about him ya know- at all #Same with gun and goo but we dont know much about gitae #lookism #lookism thoughts #gitae #kwak jichang #jichang thoughts #kim gitae

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herequeerexitentialfear · 2 months

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answering asks may be delayed further im listening to Adele again and crying over Celia and Elena. sorry neighbors im belting River Lea at the top of my lungs.

when i was a child i grew up by the river lea, there was something in the water and now that somethings in me, oh i cant go back...

i cant go back to the river, but its in my roots, in my veins, its in my blood and i stain every heart that i use to heal the pain...

#:points at elena: you can never separate yourself from the place that birthed and raised you #never rid yourself of the scars #and it affects you on every level and in every relationship #you cant run but you can never truly go back #maría elena #oughhh hometown too #sorry i rewrote her homecoming & how it works out emotionally #you can walk the streets again but its been years and people grew #you can come back but it wont be the same #you cant ask that of those you left behind #you need to relearn your place in your hometown #but all is not lost #bitter sweet #is the main vibe now #you cant go back but there is a future you can make together

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nanatsuyu · 7 months

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what makes you like kandrew so much?? what drawns you to them??

(not trying to sound rude or condescending or anything im just curious lol)

I really adore characters that bite and snarl at each other for the purpose of enrichment in their respective enclosures.

On a more serious note lol—other than the fact that I have A Type when it comes to pairings (davekat, edxizzy, amberprice, etc), I enjoy characters that have somewhat of an unhealthy codependency on one another. Which is the extremely general way of putting it. I like characters that are kind of doomed to the narrative to never really be sated by what the world has to offer, but their person makes up for that (not that they always recognize it as such or that it's entirely positive or sometimes even completely mutual). And I don't mean doomed in a "never amount to anything" way, but in that bittersweet tone where both of these characters, wherever they fall into each other on the timeline, are at a place where their lows sync up, and that harmonizing rattles something to the perceived tune of "we're the best we're ever going to get". Again, that's all really general for the vibes of why I was drawn to them. There's a bit more nuance for them (and the other pairings ofc).

I like that they have a deal that encompasses both of them trying to push the other into being a better version of themselves but they're both too stubborn/scared to move first because realised potential means you have to recognise it too. Kevin can't expect Andrew to try his best when he himself is not, and Andrew can't expect Kevin to show him his worth* if he doesn't bother to try in the first place. (Though I know their deal was labelled more as moriyama protection for Kevin, I think that kind of encompassed the idea that Andrew would be a crutch till Kevin could stand on his own if that makes sense)

Not to quote the ec but it's one of like 3 parts I would willingly print and eat:

Andrew is the kind of character I adore because he says this and he really genuinely means it. Keeping what little he has left of himself is a last ditch self preservation tactic because he can't get hurt if he has no hopes/expectations/aspirations. No one can let him down if he doesn't let them. But he's so wonderfully flawed in his own ruleset because he keeps doing just that in the hopes that maybe someone will be different this time . Like maybe this time someone will be right when they say he's worth it** like maybe Kevin is right and he can make Andrew see what he's been refusing himself.

I also love that their deal extends far past the deal itself. In the most basic of terms, it was: 'you go, I'll go.' Andrew didn't have to trust Kevin beyond that. But he gave Kevin his meds and trusted him not to abuse that. Kevin had even already promised to help him figure out a way to wean off them before if they could earlier (and I genuinely think his fear of Andrew getting off his meds early was both a kneejerk 'the game/my safety' reaction because Kevin has a lot riding on this semester too, but also because he knows he made his own promise to Andrew and he thought Andrew coming off his meds early might have been an obstacle even Kevin's stubbornness couldn't hurdle when it came to helping Andrew on his feet after). Likewise I have to imagine that very few people put their trust in Kevin with much of anything outside of Exy given his temperament and wallflower disinterest in team building extra curriculars. So for Andrew to willingly give Kevin his meds to hold onto that he's gotten violent over before probably created a very morbid sense of.. pride, I guess? Like I trust you to hold onto the thing that ruins me is so... clenches fist

There's also this rough handed care that comes with all of that. They're unforgivably honest with each other at the best of times and unnecessarily biting at wounds just to get a genuine reaction at the worst. But then they also have these quiet side/off screen moments that are unyielding in tenderness? Andrew inspecting Kevin's hand for injuries. Kevin covering for Andrew when he's sick on court. Andrew telling Kevin to trust him during a panic attack and that he'll take care of it. Kevin turning his entire attention away from the Raven's to pull Andrew up to his feet. Them smiling at each other first genuinely?? Being idiots on the court with playful mocking shoves that don't get heated?? Like you give me these two characters who make it seem as if their hearts will genuinely stop beating if they stop nipping at each other, and then show me that they're actually wrapped up in one another so tightly that they're rarely seen apart? And are burdened (affectionate) with the task of keeping the other from doing the very thing that drowns themselves?? Okay

Also a looooot of this is from my perspective on Andrew's perspective on Kevin since we're given a lot more to work with, but I genuinely think Andrew was the first to push back at Kevin and make him prove things to Andrew and himself. Kevin had maybe a couple people at most before he fled to the foxes. Like he had nothing other than his name and reputation, good and bad, when he showed up at wymack's door. I can't help but imagine some part of Andrew saw this as amusing but also rather tiresome when it came to seeing Kevin constantly shut away in hiding. He was so loud before, where is all that roar now? When Kevin left Jean, he really left his only friend behind (sorry Thea fans I know she's there I know). So here you have Andrew, offering a deal that becomes this codependency because being out of the nest alone most certainly took its toll for a while, and it sounds too good to be true but most things are. So Kevin snatches it up and then there's the trust in the meds and the constant presence (in the sense of comforting consistency in spite of any disagreements (but abandonment issues kandrew is a whole other post now innit)) and the care and it all looks a lot like what someone might call a friend. And I mean they could both say they're not friends till their dying day but they're the only ones they're still trying to fool.

I just like that they gnaw on the scraps that they snag off one another, these leftover cuts from failed attempts at love and kindness, and act as if they didn't hand the pieces to each other themselves in the bed they share.

—

*Andrew is worth more than his ability to play Exy obviously, but I'm working from the angle that these boys have a very limited vocabulary in how to express that given their upbringings lol ie: my absolute Favourite part of the ec:

Like again I have my hangups with some of the ec but this provides soooo much more context to their beef pre-canon and the history behind Andrew's failed recruitment. Not to mention Aaron internally calls out Andrew for blatantly lying to Kevin when he tells him he doesn't care. (I think Andrew probably holds a certain disdain for Kevin struggling to verbalize how he measures worth and how that might differentiate off the court, because that line between wanting to be told you're worth putting in the effort for versus being told it's because of your latent potential is most likely rather precarious. Shipping goggles on: I imagine wanting to get someone's attention whose love language was built up around Exy is a tad difficult even if Andrew does in fact hear what Kevin's trying to say. I also don't think Kevin's malicious in his inability to truly express that Andrew really could have everything and it's infuriating to watch Andrew self destruct.)

**And for me, this, coupled with the above conversation with Renee, really puts into perspective how agitated Andrew is with Kevin for squandering his potential. He thinks Kevin has zero self preservation skills when it comes to maybe not putting all his balls in the exy basket, but that's also why he's so drawn to him because he has this insatiable drive to live for this one thing? And yet he's not even giving it his all like he's asking of Andrew despite that? It'd be easy to dismiss Kevin's overzealous love of the game as gross infatuation that's bled into Andrew's life, but if he smothers Kevin's drive and doesn't encourage him to be exactly as he sees Kevin, this person who really can achieve these things, what is there for him? He wants Kevin to thrive, but Andrew also wants Kevin to be right and that he can thrive too.

#im sorry anon do you regret your question now lol #im kind of bad with articulating my points sometimes because theres A LOT #like i think how they view themselves and each other is blurred with how others do #and what they tell themselves versus what they themselves can articulate makes it really messy #and thats what i gobvle up about them #theyre messy and mean and have a vice grip in each others collar and constantly demand more #and at the same time theres a certain kind of devotion that comes with promising to be the reason someone wont break thats so #agonizingly tender #kiss with a fist‚ love from the back of a broken hand etc #thanks for coming to my ted talk hope literally any of this made sense #aftg #aftg meta #kandrew #nana asks #otp: did you have fun #i should be sleeping but im thinking about ✨them✨

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cmedics-hell · 1 year

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thinking so much about the parallels between heavymedic and cheavycmedic right now i am losing my shit. medic's breakdown in chapter 7 over the ghostlights and the narration going "He needed someone brave, someone immovable. He needed Heavy." followed by Cmedic's breakdown in chapter 9 with the narration "He needed someone soft, someone kind, someone with a bleeding heart. He needed someone unlike Cheavy."

And then Heavy putting his hatred for Cheavy aside, because he realizes that Cmedic, someone who he believes is a genuinely good person, needs Cheavy. He encourages Cheavy to be better for Cmedic's sake.

do you understand how deranged i am over this do you UNDERSTAND how abnormal this shit makes me because i have been thinking about this 1 thing nonstop since i finished chapter 9 and i need someone to recognize my madness over here. i could write a full literary essay on the cheavycmedic dynamic this fic has. i could talk about them for HOURS

#tbtf #take back the fortress #seriously im so. i dont even know how to describe what i feel about them #them ignoring the 20 years they spent apart. just choosing to believe that surely they havent changed so much #when they both know full well that they did #but neither of them want to address it because it is fucking terrifying #to grow so far apart from someone you cared about so much #someone you STILL care about #and they try so hard to look past it but it keeps showing up in the ugliest of ways #until eventually theyre gonna HAVE to talk about it and it wont be pretty #purely because they ignored it for as long as they did #and its all going to come crashing down on them #because neither of them can admit that 20 years is too fucking long to stay the same people. to continue to know each other so intimately.#they care about each other to a fault and its ENDLESSLY depressing to watch

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bunnyb34r · 1 year

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So we all walk into work and BratBoy is there and he calls all the floor people for a meeting

Well apparently like everything else NewLady didnt think that applied to HER and didnt show up

Anyway he was just giving out our tasks for the day which the team leads usually do individually when we go get our equipment but whatever dude

So he's like okay Mar you're gonna help [relative coworker] count the pallets in the steel which okay fine cool whatever

And NetflixCoworker you're gonna work grocery (of fucking course)

So the three of us go "well is NewLady here?"

Yes.

"Then what's HER job?"

Well uh we're gonna have her count the merchandise under the tables :)

And all three of us went "SHE CANT" which made him confused and we were bitching ab how all she does is refold ONE TABLE a day and just does not think she has to work anywhere else but womens and only counts the boxes there ect

And I was like "and no one touches childrens so I do that but when I get the WHOLE section done. I get more done in 4 hours than she does in 8. And womens has maybe 6 items on each table, right? I. Have. Thirty. But yet she's allowed to get away with doing ONE TABLE all day? And not helping out?"

And he was like 😧 "that's the most you've said to me in the year that I've been here" agdhhdhd like well yeah I dont like you that's why

Anyway he was like okay okay well ill talk to her and we were like BUT SHE DOESNT LISTEN THATS THE PROBLEM!

And this fucker went "why are you all yelling at me? 😥"

To which one of the few people who were still around the tables went "oh trust me that's not NetflixCoworker yelling. You'd KNOW if she was yelling"

And [RC] was like "I'm not yelling I'm telling you why we're mad" and I said "trust me this isnt me yelling." To which RC was like yeah no trust me that's not her yelling sgdggdgdgd like shes pissed but shes not PISSED bc when I get really mad I get really loud

Anyways guess how long it took NewLady to start counting? 90 minutes. We had BratBoy talk to her, NetflixCoworker yelled at her, had BratBoy tell her AGAIN, and passive aggressively bitched ab her and FINALLY this bitch starts

Like you can recover when we open motherfucker we cannot COUNT like this when we are open let's GO

#whats really funny is i was avoiding NL yesterday bc i was just not fucking having it and didnt have the patience to deal with her and RC #had said the same thing later like i tried to not talk to her today bc i knew id start screaming at her if i did dgdgdgd like we both were #like no. not today #anyway thats the second? manager to fuck around and find out just how unsettling i can be when im mad bc im normally so quiet and cheery #like this 🤗 but thats my worksona avdggdgd piss me off you're gonna find out real quick that i aint like that when you push me too far #like how passive agressive i was when (formally) Goodmanager tried to explain that BaldBastard meant i should work in all areas #and i was like mkay do me a favor? and he was like sure! and i went (very flatly/holding back my anger which unsettles people agsgdg) go #take a look at childrens. bc thats what i come in to EVERY. DAY. and im the only one to do it and the only one who will not complain ab it.#but if you guys dont want me taking care of it then fine i wont touch it #and he was like 😶 dgdgdgdgdgdh #oh and CuteButAntiMasker is coming in for two days!#BratBoy was like yeah a manager who used to work here uh dan? is coming in for a few days and we all went DANIEL??!!!#marquilla #work talk

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therealbeachfox · 3 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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