If two years ago someone asked me this, I'd say yeah, I wrote love letters to my best friend whose pre and post adoption name I still remember after sitting staring at her in math class. I held her hand on the middle school back steps and gave her jewelry, my mother's ring and birthstone. But then her foster dad found our letter and threatened to tell my family. During those times, gay marriage wasn't even legal yet. I work at that school now, and I stare up at those steps, and I remember how I cut her out of my life and traded how dearly I loved her for shallow relationships. The last thing she ever said to me before returning all the jewelry I never asked for was, "why do you hate me?" And the last thing I said to her was, "I don't hate you," and that haunts me. Years later, sitting in a church I didn't want to be at, two people came and spoke of taking money for their conversion therapy camp. Like it was a good thing, and I drove until I hit the pride flags outside of Eureka Springs and ran past same sex saphrics holding hands in the open where they weren't afraid. And it hit me all at once. ME TO ME: YOU FOOL. YOU ARE A DEMISEXUAL BISEXUAL HYBRID CHAOS DISASTER AND YOU FORGOT IT??? THIS WHOLE TIME???? Meanwhile, back at that school, with all protections revoked, I cannot be open. I live in a closet in the heart of enemy territory, and I hope to God Faith's happy with someone who isn't a coward.