A Knot in My Stomach the Size of a Walrus

It’s 6:06am in Minnesota right now and the observable wave of people waking up and checking Facebook has not yet begun. It wouldn’t make much difference if they were all awake now: I’ve already spoken to all the people I can speak to, already said the things I need to say. Now it’s time to just wait, hope, and prepare myself emotionally.

At first I thought that the Amendment that has been proposed to the Minnesota Constitution would cause irreversible emotional trauma to my closest friends. Being denied the human right to get married is to be told that you’re not human, and that you’re not wanted, and no one, no matter their age, can hear that and forget it. But I was wrong. The proposed amendment is against me. I am mostly straight, and dating a guy. I will get married someday, whether or not this amendment passes, but if it does, my marriage will be invalid because the constitution does not allow love to be the cause for marriage. So now it’s time to accept the idea that I may never get married. If this passes I will, unlike many, have a constitutionally-approved contract that gives my children healthcare, and a domestic partnership between me and my husband. One is law, and one is love, if Minnesota decides that the two can’t belong together under one word: marriage.

I always thought I’d get “married.” Now who knows what we’ll have to call it. But whatever it is, it’ll be about love–like “marriage” should be.

Oh and if Romney wins the election I’m pretty likely to lose all say in what happens to my body.

To add to the list of things I don’t have any say in, I don’t know where I’m going to be living again, and while I don’t mind moving around and learning new things in the least, believe me that having other people make decisions about your life without your consent is not fun.

I don’t know what my future will be past the next few hours. I don’t have any certainties left.

All I know is I could really do with a hug.