Tap. Tap.

The sound of tapping can be so loud and irritating or almost impossible to hear.

The sound of a demon tapping on your soul is painful and screeching. The sound of the kitty tapping on your arm to get scritches is ever so quiet. The sound of me tapping out is but a whisper.

Being gay has defined me and my life since I was a child. I was teased as a child. I was bullied in school. I was fired from jobs. I had cars drive by me throwing beer bottles at me while calling me a faggot. I was discharged from the nuclear engineering program in the United States Navy even though I had one of the highest scores. I was disowned and unfriended.

After 40 plus years, the world still sees me as a faggot. And now, the gay community sees me as an old, fat queen. I am tired. I am so very tired of fighting for everyone and everything.

The country has made a major decision and I am not wanted. I get that so I am tapping out. I will curl up with a good book in California and enjoy solitary life with my husband. I will watch the country and the world fall apart and maybe even burn. I have ten years before I get to retire to and tell this country to suck my faggoty dick. I hate that word, like I am some kind of cigarette to be smoked. But there it is from my lips finally.

Tap. Tap.

That is the sound of me tapping out. It is someone else’s turn to fight for marriage rights when the Supreme Court overturns the law. It is someone else’s turn to fight for the right to be in the military. It is someone else’s turn.

Tap.