I would bring Philip—remember Philip Jackson from high school? —to dinner. You would smile, shake his hand, and say how nice it is I brought a friend. Philip and I would laugh at that.
After dessert, you would bring up why I don’t have a girlfriend.
“Because I have Philip,” I would reply, locking my fingers with his. “And I don’t want to share.”
We’d kiss, just a quick peck on the lips.
I know you would startle in your seat, surprised by the revelation, and ask, “You’re gay?!”
My lover and I would kiss again as an answer.