Imagine if the magic slipper never fit. Or imagine that
Prince Charming's family had him institutionalized because
they thought he was crazy to love Sleeping Beauty. Or
imagine that Tom Hanks got hit by a car when on his way to
see Meg Ryan at the top of the Empire State Building in
"Sleepless in Seattle." Or let's say that Harry got AIDS
before he slept with Sally. Or imagine that George Clooney
decides at the end of "One Fine Day," without any warning,
that he's really gay, and can't see Michelle Pfiffer any
more.

Once you imagine these scenarios, you are a step closer to
imagining the world of gay, lesbian, and bisexual literature
and theatre. In the world of non-heterosexual literature and
theatre, there is no "happily ever after." There is no "they
walked off into the sunset together." There are no happy
endings. While heterosexuals can chose from tragedy or fairy
tale, we who are gay, lesbian, and bisexual do not have that
choice.

For many years homosexuality and bisexuality were the "love
that does not speak its name." In the first half of this
century, gay men, lesbians, and bisexuals started writing
about their experiences. The flooding open of new voices was
healing to those queers who were not yet out of the closet.
Finally, our voicesw were heard.

But even at the same time we were being liberated, we were
helping to oppress ourselves. The vast majority of lesbian,
bisexual, and gay male literature that has been published
since 1920 has also provided very few positive images of
what its like to be not straight.

In a typical queer story, two people of the same gender fall
in love. The couple might have sex or might not have sex. Up
to here, the story sounds promising: two people of the same
gender can fall in love and can have sex.

Then comes the ending. There are several possible outcomes,
all equally limiting. One favorite is suicide; one of the
lovers kills himself or herself. Another is insanity; people
who fall in love with members of the same sex are obviously
crazy and therefore should be locked up in an insane asylum,
usually against their will. A third and possibly the most
vicious of these options, is to have one of the lovers
realize that they really aren't in love with the same gender
after all; this whole homosexual encounter thing was just a
phase. "I'm really heterosexual now so please get out of my
life."

Following behind these three primary options for characters
in same-sex love stories are the other faithful stand-byes
of: death by means other than suicide (assassination, freak
accident, gay bashing), permanent separation of lovers
(usually by 1,000+ miles), catatonia, jail, castration,
lobotomy, and disease.

The message that's hidden in these stories, the allegory
they provide, is this: it is horrible to love someone of the
same sex. If you love someone of the same sex, you will die
early or get AIDS or be put in an asylum by your family.

In our society, we live by allegory and parable. Look no
further than the Bible, the most influential book upon our
culture. Jesus taught in parable. We learn through stories.
And in the stories where people of the same sex fall in
love, the story is rarely good.

I'm even going to venture from the safe eye of the
politically correct storm here. I will even go so far as to
say that in some ways, the AIDS crisis provided the perfect
opportunity to continue the self-deprecating and self-hating
that queer people expressed in literature and drama. AIDS
provided another way to sabotage a relationship.

I'm asking for a positive ending. Not yet. I'm asking for a
neutral ending, an open ending, something where we don't
have to know what's going to happen but it doesn't look
horrible for the same sex couple. There might even be a
little bit of hope.

So WHAT? So what that there are no positive images of same-
sex love available? Can't you just live your life? Why is
this important?

And this is where my voice gets low and I get so passionate.
It's important because without positive stories, it is
impossible to live our lives positively. Heterosexuals have
their "storybook" weddings. But there are no storybooks for
us. There is no person we can look to and say, "That's what
I want my life to look like," or some couple to read about
and say, "That's what I want my relationship to be like." We
have death and disease and insanity as role models. And
these are the role models that, tragically, so many
bisexual, gay, and lesbian people follow.

I ask two things. The first is from my non-gay, non-
bisexual, non-lesbian friends who tend to call themselves
straight. Be sensitive. Next time you ask me how my
boyfriend and I are doing, don't ask, "Are you and David
still together?" Next time you start drifting off and
thinking about how you just wish gays, lesbians and
bisexuals would quit complaining about all their problems,
remember that we don't have "happily ever after." And
remember that you have always had examples of how to live
your life. You can chose between "Romeo and Juliet" and
"Cinderella;" I cannot.

My second plea is to my gay, lesbian, and bisexual sisters
and brothers. Be strong and tell your stories. We are the
only ones who can provide positive examples for ourselves.
We must first help ourselves. It is not a queer-friendly
world that we live in and we have had to fight so hard for
so long. But the tragedy ends when we start writing our own
endings. For years, there have been no opportunities for
"happily ever after." We are, just now, experiencing a time
when things might not be great for queers. But not everyone
has to die. Not every couple breaks up because one person
decides he or she is straight. And no one needs to kill
themselves because he or she loves another human being. No
one.

Even as I say, "There are no happy endings," I have seen
changes. Two years ago, "Jeffrey" showed that two men could
walk off stage with the potential for love. Even in that
situation, however, one of the men was HIV+, a complicated
situation even with today's "drug cocktails." I have
finally read two gay male novels-"Ready to Catch Him Should
He Fall" by Neil Bartlett and "Blackbird" by Larry
Duplechan-in which the characters are okay in the end. And,
most powerful, in last year's film "Beautiful Thing" (still
playing in LA), the ending is open, even hopeful. The couple
thrives at the end and does not succumb to tragedy.

So write the stories. Don't be afraid to write the happy
endings. We need more optimism. We need more hope. And we
need more courage.