I’m willing to be a martyr for liberty or solidarity—not planning on it—but I want no part in any other form of Romantic death. Except this one time there was a slight appeal to it:
Visited Kashmir in December. Rather reckless of me considering there is an insurgency going on, and that foreigners get kidnapped and killed there occasionally (see my post “fearing for my life in Kashmir”). Not to mention the fact that when I arrived I found Islamic State propaganda everywhere, and we all know what IS does to queer people. I stayed close to my guides.
But let’s back up a bit: There is a woman I fell deeply in love with almost two years ago. She would have nothing of it, and I was devastated. Still am. We’ll call her “Carol” since I’m never going to publically state her real name. While I’ve moved on to a large degree, I still love Carol significantly.
Before visiting Kashmir I knew the risks. So I asked two of my friends to tell Carol that I love her in the event of my kidnapping or murder while traveling there. You see, Carol won’t allow me to tell her about how I feel, but I figured such an extreme event would get her attention.
I knew that if I was martyred for being American or queer she would listen to a message that I desperately wanted to send.
That almost felt worth dying for.