frequency 004
2:09 a.m.
the television was still on. rerun of batman: the animated series. already a show where every color feels like it's drowning in smoke. i remember how empty wayne manor looked. all those rooms, all that silence. even the computer had a voice, and still, no one was there to talk back.
as a kid, i thought batman meant being powerful.
later, i realized it meant watching the city sleep from the roof, pretending you didn't want anyone waiting up for you.
robin wasn't a sidekick. he was a stand-in.
a way to prove you could still care without having to say it out loud.
and somewhere, i think, every gay man learns that trick.
how to turn longing into duty, how to make solitude look like choice.
static. end transmission.