Romeo and Julio
“Let’s leave. Tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you have any idea how much it kills me whenever you get jealous of me? Talking to a girl, or talking about them? Don’t you think I see? Don’t you think I saw just now—And that wasn’t even a friend!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can’t have any more of it. I won’t have any more! I wanna be with you. I wanna try it. So let’s go. Leave. Just go for it!”
“You have a girlfriend.”
“So? I’ll break up with her.”
“You’re crazy . . .”
“So what? Isn’t that, according to you, the hallmark of love? Its inexplicability, its irrationality . . .”
“You’re not even gay.”
“Wasn’t it you who told me that sexuality is but a performance, that it’s just a convenient, how did you call it, ‘molar’ way to represent in collectivity the everyday actions we perform, that in truth we are all polymorphously perverse, capable of anything, capable of connecting to everything, that over the years we’ve just been rigidified by social codes that normalize us so we forget our multiple potentialities and become the boring, monomaniac machines that we are?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you’re saying all those late-night phone calls, all those conversations . . . All those theories were not meant to convince me? Make me believe?”
“I . . . simply articulated what I believed . . .”
“Look, I don’t know if I’m gay—but as you said, it doesn’t matter. I know what I feel for you. I know, at the end of the night, I wanna call you. I know, at the end of the day, despite all the other people around me, I wanna come home to you . . . Wasn’t it you who said that we’re all capable of anything? Everything? Of being both sexes. Of being all the sexes! It doesn’t matter what we do now, who we sleep with. It matters who we can do what with. How we feel. My body parts can learn. In fact, they’re able. They just need to be awakened. And they will. My heart knows . . .”
“What are you saying?”
“I wanna try it, see if my parts can resonate with yours. There is no other person that I admire, no other person that I . . .—I’m not gonna let the way I’ve been sexually trained to hinder what I feel for you, limit me—most of all, hurt you . . .”
“It’s crazy. I’m leaving tomorrow. I got a job . . .”
“So? Forget it. F**k it! I’m leaving my girlfriend.”
“I . . .”
“Leave your commitments. Let’s just go! Leave. Leave everything behind . . . Isn’t that what people do? For love . . .”
“No, no . . . I’m not this disturbed anymore. A year ago, I might have done this—”
. [kiss] . .
“I know what you feel. I felt what you want. What do you say?”
“Yes, yes . . . Let’s go . . .”
Its lovely. So touching