Standing on the Threshold of History

which is where I tie my shoe.

My phone died on the third set of the show I was at tonight.  Sam is the world's last non-cell phone user. I spent the first five minutes berating him for his anti-tech choices. Then the next five bemoaning how I forgot to charge mine at job-job
 "Sheesh, let it go," he whined.

--"I wanted to watch my Twitter feed! They're voting soon." was all I could say. 

"Here," he said,"let me tell you what happened. They voted no."

I looked at his beautifully handsome face in the violet light from the stage. Oh, how this man has changed me. If I never had the deep conversations about scars that hate left on his heart or the limits he's felt since childhood because of  his sexual orientation, I wouldn't ever guess he wasn't always this whole and beautiful guy, so sure of who he is and who he wants to be. I blinked back tears.

I hugged my boy long and hard, around his face so it'd get good and greasy, he hates that.  "Someone's gonna have to break out the Kiehls... " I sing-songed before I got back in to the show. P.S. I am awesome at making heavy moments light. It's a gift and a curse. A gift for obvious reasons and a curse because it has a yang to that ying and let's not forget the crisis my dead phone was. You would have thought we were filming a witch documentary in the Black Hills of Maryland instead of sipping sparkly things at Bowery Electric.

Later, walking arm in arm through the streets of NoHo I pinched  his arm.
"Sam, maybe they said yes?"

--"No, hun. They said no." 

We walked and we walked, it was cold out and he gave me his jacket. I never have one when I need one. And let's be honest, why the hell would I need one at the end of June? Not that I'm complaining... We walked some more, mostly quietly. As we started to turn the corner on Broadway, an almost trip led me to bend down and redo the strap of my heel.

I sat there trying to get the little dots to align perfectly with the buckle. Sam pulled the pack of  American Spirits that live in his back pocket, tapped them three times and then dropped his lighter.  I watched it clatter down next to me on the subway grate. For a second I half-laughed. So he's human! I've never known Sam to drop anything. If there's a person I want next to the picnic table when I am forced to stand on it and trust fall, it is Sam friggin' Thompson...and then Atlas. Atlas gets picked second.

I palmed the lighter and started to to hand it to him from where I was on the sidewalk, my shoe still half on half off. Suddenly he was hauling me to my feet.
--"Sheesh! Let go!" I snapped, yanking my arm away, trying to balance on my shod foot.

--"LOOOOOOOOOOOK at THAT!" he wailed. "LOOOK!"

He'd caught the moment they'd flipped the switch. Tonight, my dear bloggy friends, I was reminded that a life can drastically change in a New York Minute.  I once again got to witness what pure joy looks and feels like on the face of someone you love. In my recent experience it involves a lot of crying and hugging, there is yelling and whistling and high-fives from total random strangers upon the streets of  Chelsea.