I Find I Very Rarely Live Up

It's Gonna Hurt Because It Matters.

His Books Are Kept On Freestanding Shelves Hung At Different Angles On A Sea-green Wall. They Defy Gravity, As Good Books Should.

I Have Never Had Anybody Talk To Me Like This. This Is Not A Flirty Sixth-grade Phone Call Or Bantering With Friends Or Words Passed In A Note. I Feel That If My Soul Could Talk It Would Talk Like This.

This Isn't Even Something I've Feared, Because I Never Knew It Was A Possibility.

We Could Call You An Ambisexual. A Duosexual. A—” “do I Really Have To Find A Word For It?” Kyle Interrupts. “can’t It Just Be What It Is?” “of Course,” I Say, Even Though In The Bigger World I’m Not So Sure. The World Loves Stupid Labels. I Wish We Got To Choose Our Own. We Pause For A Moment. I Wonder If That’s All—if He Just Needed To Say The Truth And Have It Heard. But Then Kyle Looks At Me With Unsure Eyes And Says, “you See, I Don’t Know Who I’m Supposed To Be.” “nobody Does,” I Assure Him.