for the first time in my life i realize why hangers are called hangers, because after fifteen minutes of trying things on and throwing them aside, all i want to do is hook one to the top of my closet door, lean my neck into the loop, and let my weight fall.

A sound waiting to be a word.

... I love books about freaks," because I am one. You might be, too. Let's be freaks together?

But if I didn’t want to be alone, then why didn’t I want to be with anyone else?

People are always separable.

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.

My face seems too square and my eyes too big, like I'm perpetually surprised, but there's nothing wrong with me that I can fix.