In my experience, desire is desire, love is love. I have never fallen in love with a gender. I have fallen for individuals.

The older I get, the more I lose my ability to breathe.

Maybe your history just repeats and repeats until it batters you enough to snap the seams that hold you together

That word again. Happy. It’s a curse. The pursuit of happiness makes us deeply unhappy. It’s a trap.Before anything else happened, there was me in bed, thinking of who you used to be. I don’t want you to think I forgot.

Even though it was hard to see you, it was good to see you.

The word I think of is precarious. I am struck by how precarious it all is. How the things that hold us are only as strong as the faith we have in them.

I know from experience that beneath every peripheral girl is a central truth. She’s hiding hers away, but at the same time she wants me to see it.