LGBTQ+
The Three Prisons of Heart, Distance, and Gender (Written by My Transgender Wife)
Less than 20 feet away, I was trapped and unable to see you.
Note from Logan: Last year, my wife lost the very special woman who originally raised them. They wrote this beautiful piece to help process this loss and welcomed me to share it here.
CW: Child abuse mentioned without details.
I heard your sneeze faintly under the white noise of the bathroom fan just now. It’s weird how one hears random memories of sounds long since past in the thrum of a wall of sound. I know there’s a word and a scientific explanation for it; I just don’t really care to look it up right now.
Anyway, yours was a very distinct sneeze; it was very loud! It echoed down our street, and I can almost hear it a block away sometimes. It reverberated between the walls of our houses facing our adjoining yard. It was a comforting sound to me. Your sneeze was so loud because you kept all your windows and doors open, for me, to welcome me over, welcome me back home, to let me know that I was loved, and that I was always welcomed in the warm embrace of the meals you provided for me, or in the calming presence of your space.
