All day, it’s been fabulous and fierce and filled with so much love that we can hardly imagine how the day could be any better. We’ve consumed so much Gay Pride that we can hardly swallow. And still the sun is out and boyz by the score heading to Pier 54.

It’s after six when we get there, and Jonathan Porter’s at the boards, and the pier is packed with the population of Iceland, at least, and the first person we run into is none other than Kat—and the song is M People’s “How Could I Love You More?” Purr-fection already.

And then it’s “Need You to Love Me More”—and you can tell that’s the kind of uptrip it’s going to be: a journey through songs which remind us why we’re here. The celebration of who we are and why we keep going in the face of adversity. We’re here together to remind ourselves how to survive as individuals. Strength in numbers, e pluribus unum—and all that jazz. You don’t feel so alone when you realize how many others face the same hurdles. And there’s a t-shirt with the acronym O.D.D. That’s it! The new personality disorder. We’re O.D.D. on a planet that too often doesn’t get us.

It’s a sea of color and sunglasses. Banners whipping in the breeze. And such an array of people—crammed together. We’re a force to be reckoned with—when we’re united like this. Old friends and new ones—like the one who asks us, in the midst of the crowd, “Can I use your cup?” There’s only ice left in it, but “Take it,” we say—whereupon he uses it to pee. “The lines are atrocious,” he says shrugging. “You can keep that,” we say.

So many people. We stand on the platform and gaze out over the mass of beauty. Once a year, it’s like this. Once a year, we get to gaze on this gorgeous tapestry of color. The sun setting behind us, over the river, behind the Jersey skyline. They’ve run out of energy drinks and alcohol—imagine that! They’re handing out liter bottles of juice as the fireworks go off to “All You Need is Love.” What could be more appropriate? All of us know it. We’ve been exercising that fact all day and all evening.

And as the fireworks end with a flurry of bursts, Jonathan Porter ushers us off the Pier with Stephanie Mill’s “Home.” Another chestnut from back in the day, when “The Wiz” was on Broadway, but it’s perfect for now: a reminder that home is where we find peace and acceptance.

And still, there’s one more—a ukulele version of “Over the Rainbow.” Harold Arlen smiling overhead as the group of us stops traffic and walks home together. Same time, next year: Pride on the Pier.