The Dead of Winter

The wind was harsh, cutting into our faces like daggers, leaving us red in the face and nearly frostbitten. The dead of winter never felt so dead as we trudged down the road to the gas station to pick up hot chocolate mix. It was ironic, the heat wasn’t kicking on at our apartment, so we nearly got frostbite trying to buy something that’ll warm us up. If we make it, it’ll be a story to tell, but for now I just want to get out of the snow. The snowshoes we dug out of the closet were sinking into the snow more than usual.

“I think it’s time to get new snowshoes.” I yelled through the tunnel of wind.

“What?” Eva yelled back, squinting to see me through the snow still falling.

“Need new snowshoes!” I said simply.

“Yap!” Eva said, or that’s what it sounded like. She said something else, but it was muffled behind the snow.

I paused, turned around, and squinting said, “Huh?”

“Never mind, go.” She put her hands on my shoulders and turned me around, patting my shoulders before letting me go.

Though the cold tried to break through my spirit and render me useless, having Eva with me to make this two-mile trek kept me warm.

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The Grand Canyon (Part 2)

Our friend came out to us last night,

in an emotional speech surrounded by loved ones.

We were still on the road,

now in Nebraska.

She FaceTimed us and told us she was trans.

She had her friends over,

the moment felt right.

I wished I could’ve hugged her.

You and I talked about gender and sexuality for a while

well after the call ended.

I learned you once contemplated not being cis.

I did too, back in high school.

I told you I loved that we were still learning about each other.

You smiled and agreed.

We were on the road,

on a street we’d never seen,

in a car you only bought a month ago,

but I couldn’t have felt more at home.