Sarah sat in her front room, coffee in hand as she gazed listlessly across the street. Her neighbor’s pride flag hung in their window in quiet defiance, vigilantly welcoming queer passers-by. She heard her roommate slide into another seat in the front room and sip carefully at her coffee, likely reading some article or another on her phone. Sarah didn’t want to interrupt her roommate’s morning routine, but she couldn’t deny her intense urge to make some sort of connection.
“Do you think it’ll be there next year?” Sarah said off-hand, still staring across the street.
“Hmm?” her roommate answered, not yet aware of the conversation.
“Our neighbor’s pride flag,” Sarah clarified. “Do you think it’ll still be there next year?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You know,” Sarah answered, her flagging voice betraying a deep anxiety just beneath her aloof facade.
Sarah heard her roommate set her coffee down on a nearby end table. Or maybe it was her phone; it was hard to tell from the sound.
“I’m pretty sure they’ll still be queer next year,” her roommate pointed out. “So I imagine their flag will still be around.”
“I just wouldn’t want our flag to be lonely,” Sarah responded wistfully.
Sarah’s gaze lingered on the distant flag, it’s reassuring stripes of blue, pink, and white a match for the flag hanging in her own front window. She remembered the day she hung hers, telling the flag across the way that she’d brought it a friend. For years the two flags stared at each other across the street; silent partners through sunshine, storm, and snow.
“We’re not going anywhere,” her roommate said firmly, lifting Sarah out of her reverie. “We’re not going to stop being queer just because some people don’t like who we are. Even if those people happen to be in power,” she added with an undertone of disgust.
Sarah finally turned to look at her roommate. Her face was set in a determined mask as she watched Sarah from across the room. Sarah knew she should feel empowered by her roommate’s calm confidence, but instead she felt empty.
“I don’t know how you can be so confident,” Sarah admitted after a moment.
Her roommate paused. “I’m not, really,” she answered back. “But Sarah, we don’t have to have all the answers. Nobody has all the answers, especially not the people that hate us. We have each other, and we only have to make it to tomorrow, and that’s something I think we can manage.”
Sarah sat with her roommate’s wisdom for a moment before responding. “I guess I can make it to tomorrow,” she reluctantly agreed.
“See? I knew you had it in you,” her roommate cheerily encouraged. “We’ll just take things one day at a time.”
Sarah felt a subtle smile creep across her face; her roommate’s can-do attitude was contagious. “Thanks, V. I’m glad we’re in this together.”
V’s bubbly cheerfulness simmered down into a heartfelt smile. “Me too, Sarah. Me too.”