Just by Looking at Him: A Novel

It’s like, you’re with someone for so long, words become so dull that you decide to make them fun, but somehow you end up talking like you have brain damage, and any spark of desire you have for this person gets slowly snuffed out.

So many discussions around relationships feel binary. You’re either struggling or you’re not. You’re either content or you’re miserable. These narratives are easier to follow and allow us to think, Well, if X isn’t happening, then we’re okay. The truth is much more complicated and terrifying. You could love someone and want to lose them at the same

I’m realizing that so much of my existence was focused on outrunning what seemed to be a preordained fate of loneliness.

Growing up gay and disabled, I was taught not to want much, to feel grateful for whatever came my way. A live-in boyfriend was above and beyond what I should’ve dared dream for myself. Meanwhile, all around me, straight white guys were taking giant chunks out of life and leaving no leftovers for the rest of us. They see what they want, they get it,

But everyone’s secretly in a lot of pain, right? They are. They have to be. Existence is painful. I’d like nothing more than to quit drinking and hiring sex workers and be content and that would be my story. But I’m not stupid enough to believe life is that easy or clean. I could quit those things and still not be okay. Sometimes I think I surround

“Ethan hates himself, but he doesn’t quite know it. He needs to go to therapy, do the work, realize his self-loathing, and then turn that hate inward like the rest of us. That’s what a real marginalized person does.”

Seeing Gus so independent and sure of himself, I knew that if I conquered my toxic brain and actually let myself be loved by him, it would be the greatest gift.

The confidence to dance alone at a gay bar. To know, at any moment, you could just talk to a stranger who would welcome you and no longer be alone.

I used to be satisfied with this. I used to not need more than a boy who brings me water. I don’t know if I should be mad at myself for suddenly wanting more or mad at myself for having been okay with less.

Being sober in a room full of drunk strangers emboldened me to act insane. I approached partygoers and introduced myself as someone from the Make-A-Wish Foundation.