Sparks

I saw her. The photo of her and another woman. Obviously adoring each other. The tag. The sweet comment. The likes and hearts from friends. And just like that she was gone.

They looked so happy together. And I smiled. Queer love is the best. When you see it, you have to smile, and hope, and send the most positive thoughts out there. Because challenges, and because community. So yes, she was gone, for me. Not available.

And then I saw myself. I’ve never met this woman, and yet I had built a story. Who she is, who she might be to me, what we might do, how we might be. The clues from photos: hair, clothing, locations and that smile, came together in a simple story of contrasts, attraction, making out and hanging out.

I wouldn’t want to walk into someone else’s story about me. I mean, if it was just about sex and roles and fantasy that could be fun. But for anything else, I want to walk in to attraction and curiousity and an open mind. All of us do.

And so, if that is the intention, what are the practices that support that way of being? Our brains respond to these photos — they spark a story, meaning, connection, a pattern. A spark is lit, and we swipe right. And if there’s no spark back, then what? Wait to be seen? Question whether we’ve been seen?

During that wait and these questions, what are the practices that hold the spark, rather than fanning it to a flame?