And the irony of it all....that just when I'd turned my back on the entire male population, when the thought of being mounted and having my body invaded by a penis made me cringe and shudder...I fell more hopelessly than ever for.....a man. For a man so gentle, so kind, so thoughtful, that I couldn't be afraid of him. Whose movements were so quiet and unobtrusive and non-threatening that I knew to the core of my being that I would never be afraid of him.

Just when I had worked up the courage to confront the unwelcome idea that maybe I hadn't ever fit the mold because I wasn't straight, when I'd come to terms with that idea. When I'd decided that maybe that was OK.

I feel like my soul has been ripped open and let to spill out on the ground.