I started work at 10:00am this morning. Around 11:00am, I started feeling sorry for myself. It was around that time that the boys started to trickle into the store to buy some refreshments for the day. A few were obviously shopping for get-togethers for Pride Weekend. I started to feel left-out. I felt low. Despite my feelings, I kept a happy face.

My partner had agreed to pick me up when I finished work. He showed up a half hour early. I got the okay to leave work early and we decided to head out for some dinner instead of grocery shopping. We went to Elmo since it did serve some good drinks and good food. They had a DJ spinning some good music. The place was busy but began to empty out about an hour later. It was obvious that people were headed to the Pier Dance.

A few drinks later (plus some fried chicken), I started to feel better. We were enjoying ourselves. Talking about our upcoming vacation. Talking about the past. Talking about whatever we wanted. Then he said it. He said, "We're lucky. We're lucky that we have each other. I love you. Happy Pride." I looked at him and smiled. I said, "I love you too. We are lucky. We are lucky to have each other."

We headed home. On the way home, we stopped by the wine store I used to work for to get some wine. A guy I hired was working that day. He gave me a big hug, and even though he is hetero, asked me if I was enjoying Pride Weekend. After a split second, I said, "Yeah."

So. Here I am. Tipsy on about a bottle and a half of wine. Tired but content. My partner is asleep. My best friend called me to wish me Happy Gay Pride. I miss her. She misses me. But you know what. I'm lucky. Lucky to have had some of the best memories one could ask for. Lucky to have a partner in life. Lucky to have a best friend. Lucky to be where I am. And most of all, lucky to be me.

Happy Gay Pride to all my bretheren. Later.  ¶ 10:28 PM