A Golden Field of Hope and Desire: A Gay, Trans, and Aromantic Love Story

Darren

Leaves tremble in the wind
Like I’m trembling now,
With too much uncertainty.
I wish you would say something.
Your silence is a blue and white block of snow
Soft but unmoving,
Chaffing me with your suspense.

He looks so carefree,
Or maybe he’s good at pretending.
Under the innocent sunlight,
His hair dazzles like maize.
I wish I could run my fingers through it.
Then away he moves again,
Without even seeing me.

Smoke rises incessantly
From a pungent alley.
Who knows what’s brewing down that hidden path?
A vortex of emotion
Burns within me,
With no warning smoke to tell you my secrets.

Grey-green hills and a tantalizing moon
Rise up the eyes of your soul.
Won’t you tell me how you feel?
What can I do to earn your trust?
Would I need to hide forever
Like a small arctic fox
Under a bridge of deep snow?

Where are you?
Your voice floats like a song,
Turning my heart
Into a deep, swirling pool.
I want to hear your voice again,
I wish I could feel your skin on mine.

He gathers up his things,
His jacket, his gear,
And tugs his border collie with him.
She pants happily by his side,
Eyes sparkling with canine delight.
I wonder what would happen if she knew.
Would she tell him?
Would she make him stay away from me,
Or would she try to bring us together?

Lloyd

Two and a half years ago,
Before the lockdown began,
Darren made a remarkable impression on me.
He was light-footed, and his hair was a glowing black.
He chuckled in his gentle, pure way,
Like a flitting swallow.
That day, he met my eyes,
A question in his gaze,
A thrumming light within.
Without thinking, I blurted out
The first thing on my mind.

He stared, and then he laughed.
Our friends around us laughed too,
They jeered, twisting my accidental words
All out of proportion.
But he didn’t seem offended,
Only shy and embarrassed,
Clearly thinking this was just a joke
Rather than a slip of my tongue.
Better that he know nothing, anyway.

The night wore on, until it was time
For me to leave these friends
For another group of friends back home.
Of course he made no move
To stop or follow me.
Why would he?
He had a sweet face
And an even sweeter smile,
But he was friendly with everyone,
And so damn oblivious.
Why would he pay special attention to me?

He didn’t seem any different afterwards,
Except he was friendlier.
But at least he didn’t freak out.
My friends made no sign
That they suspected anything, either.
Every time I met him,
I spied his halo of dark hair,
His adorable, pleasant features,
His bouncing air of souciance–
Yes, that was the right word,
As he was the opposite of insouciant.

But years flew by
And nothing happened.
Friendship was probably enough.
Relationships are overrated anyway.
He gave me enough as it was,
And I would give him
An equal amount of myself.

Darren

I asked him to hang out,
And he said yes.
But we had to postpone it,
Due to this reason,
Or that reason.
I couldn’t help but worry,
As I gazed at the falling snow outside,
Whether he wanted to see me at all.
Did I repulse him?
I was probably overthinking it.
But it hurt,
Feeling that I prioritized him
More than he ever did me.
I was sure he valued me as a person,
But I still felt hollow.
Or did I long for too much?

With a heaviness in my shoulders,
I called my cat to me.
He was a black and white cat,
With emerald eyes.
I called him Psyche
For the way he made my soul feel full,
Even when my heart was broken.

Psyche leapt onto my shoulder.
I winced when his claws bit into my skin,
But I was fine.
I should stop thinking so much about Lloyd
And take better care of my life and health.

Lloyd

I tucked my border collie,
Frossie, against my hip.
It gave me so much comfort
To look at her endearing puppy face.
Unlike most people,
Frossie didn’t care what anyone thought of her,
Yet she was still a bundle of light and joy.
I wonder sometimes what would happen
If she turned into a human being.
Would she be a little sister to me?
Or perhaps a niece.
Not a daughter, though.
I can’t imagine being a father.

And not for the first time,
I questioned
Whether Frossie sensed more of the truth
About how I felt
Than I did.

Darren asked to hang out.
I said sure, but wait.
Some months later,
When the world already felt different,
Darren asked again to hang out.
But there was something changed
In his tone,
Something that put me on edge.
Not that I thought he would hurt me.
He was too small and delicate a creature
To ever hurt anyone
(Except emotionally.)
So I put him off again.
It wasn’t hard to find pretext after pretext
To hold off our meeting.
Surely, whatever was happening on his end,
He could wait.

We were like two young cougars,
Circling one another,
And biding our time.
Despite my caution,
I was also curious.
Perhaps he felt how much distance
I set between us.
I didn’t do this to push him away,
But merely to keep him
From getting too close.
As warm as a bonfire is,
I didn’t want to get burnt.

At long last,
Several months later,
I relented.
We would meet for a walk in the park
And I would bring Frossie
In case anything untoward happened.

Darren

With great trepidation,
I waited for him to arrive.
Next to me was a shelter of pine trees,
How breezy and relaxed they looked,
In contrast to the knots in my worried heart.

And there he was!
His dark blond hair shone
Under the bright summer sun,
And his border collie gazed up at me,
Wagging her tail in tentative welcome.
It felt like Lloyd had changed but also not.
He was warm, pleasant, and courteous as usual.
Yet some strange energy
Permeated his frame
And lengthened his stride.
He was like a stallion to me,
Graceful, sure,
But oddly restrained.
At least he didn’t look angry.

We chatted about everything and nothing,
As we sauntered through the verdant park.
Frossie bounded around us
In this grassy, expansive area.
The border collie was adorable,
But I wanted to have a moment alone with Lloyd.

I glanced at him surreptitiously.
He always looked so elegant and unperturbed,
No matter what the situation.
With anxiety, I cleared my throat.
“Uh, Lloyd, I wanted to tell you something.”
He shot me a startled glance,
And I continued,
“I like you. A lot.
Do you want to be together?”

Lloyd

Somewhere deep down, I had known,
But I didn’t want to face it.
Life was too short to toy with uncertainties.
Yet when he gazed at me
With nothing but candor, hope, and nervousness,
I asked in a whisper,
“What kind of together?”

He turned his face away,
Abashed, even though he was the one
Who had brought it up.
He mumbled, with barely a glance at me,
“Well, we could be with each other,
And be partners of some sort.”

Was it really that hard for him to say?
I replied, “You mean romantic partners? Boyfriends?”
He cringed and I was taken aback by his reaction.
Was I wrong? Had I just made a fool of myself?

Darren took a deep breath.
“Lloyd, this isn’t about you. It’s about me.
I want to be in a relationship with you,
I’m interested in you.
But for some reason or another,
I’m allergic to some romantic labels–
Especially ‘boyfriend’ and ‘dating’.”
He ducked his head to avoid my eyes.
Then he murmured,
“What do you say? I do–I do love you
And want you,
But you can say no,
And I’d be okay being friends…”

I couldn’t stop my laughter now.
“No, no,” I said. “I mean, yes,
I’d be interested.”

The shocked look on his face made me laugh again.
“Really?” he cried. “I was so sure you’d refuse!”

“But why?” I asked.
“We’re friends, yes, but I do like you.
We don’t have to use labels if you don’t want to.”

The relief in his expression
Made something loosen in my chest.
Then he looked nervous again.
“One more thing,” he said.
“I’m transgender too,
So–I used to look like a girl.
Is that okay with you?”

I was a little surprised,
But it made sense.
Darren was very cute,
Maybe too cute,
Prettier than most guys.
And he seemed so comfortable
Ignoring all masculine norms,
Not that it made him any less masculine to me.

I smiled and held out my hand.
“That’s fine. I don’t care about that.
You’re still my friend and I still like you.”
I swallowed. “We can be partners,
Whatever that entails…”

At this point, Frossie barked
And stared at us both.
She looked bewildered,
As if she knew that something extraordinary
Had just transpired.
I reached down to pet her head.
“Nothing’s wrong, Frossie.
We’re going to be okay.”

Darren had a small smile on his face,
Looking so like a dove in that moment,
Sweet, innocent, and beautifully vulnerable.
I asked, “Can I hug you?”
Darren’s smile widened a fraction,
And he nodded.

Gently, I wrapped my arms about his shoulders,
And we held on to each other.
Neither of us uttered a word,
Though there was still so much left to say.
I hugged him a little tighter.
“I’m new to this,” I admitted.
“But whatever this is, we’ll scale it together.”

Darren’s laugh vibrated
Against my body.
“We’ll be perfectly fine,” he agreed.
“No pressure whatsoever.”

Darren

My cat Psyche
Didn’t like Frossie much,
Though the border collie was nothing but friendly to him.
Yet, Psyche didn’t mind Lloyd.
He sometimes purred at my friend,
Like he knew how happy and warm I felt,
In Lloyd’s wonderful presence.
We decided to call each other “friends” for now,
And explore our relationship however we wanted.

A few weeks after my confession,
We all visited the park together.
Psyche was in an especially good mood,
And had wanted to come with us.
Lloyd and I stepped onto a wide bridge,
With Frossie on his other side,
And Psyche sitting on my shoulder.
We were still young and new to everything,
But I already felt such peace and belonging.
Families come in all shapes and sizes,
Maybe mine was with a boy,
His cheerful border collie,
And my quiet but supportive cat.

This story was inspired by reality but is mostly fictional, a fantasy. In an ideal world, not only would your love be reciprocated, your trans and aromantic identities would be no barrier to you, either.

Different aromantics have different experiences. In Darren’s case, he wanted a relationship but didn’t feel comfortable with some romantic labels. Lloyd had no problem accepting this. Lloyd was surprised at first that Darren was trans, but his feelings for Darren stayed the same.

I hope for a future where being gay, transgender, and being on the aromantic and asexual spectra, would make no difference in finding a relationship you desire.

Note: Lloyd said that Darren was cuter and prettier than most guys, and therefore it made sense that he was a trans dude, not a cis dude. I want to clarify that not everybody’s face is the same; testosterone has different effects on everyone. So you could see Lloyd as relying on a stereotype about transmasc folks looking “prettier and cuter” than most cis men.

Originally published in Queerly Trans on May 1, 2022