an open letter to my sexuality

Dear Sexuality,

I’m not quite sure why we always fight. It’s not like you’re bad or anything...just different is all. And yet, everyone else around me is trying to define you. Why don’t they ever ask about me?

How do I feel about you? No one ever bothers to ask... because to them, you don’t even exist. Or I must be too young to know you, anyway. After all, I’ve got to experience something, right?

I find that girl attractive, but only ever want to cuddle. And that handsome guy over there? I just want to hold hands and watch movies. Anything else? Hardly at all. It’s like my romance is turned up but my sexual attraction doesn’t exist at all.

So at least I thought...until I met him. That beautiful blonde haired boy with the piercing blue eyes. You know the one I’m talking about? But even then, it’s hardly noticeable you see. For I want to spend the rest of my life with him...but I hardly want intimacy.

Or, not the intimacy you’d expect. You see, I want to learn about the depths of his brain and what’s going on in his head. That type of intimacy...not one involving tangled bodies in a bed.

So, what even are you? I can’t even tell. Not completely ace, but not allo as well. It’s like I’m floating somewhere in the middle...an endless gray sky.

I’m not sure what to call you yet, but maybe I will soon. I’m hoping we’ll get along better, and that I can accept you.

Until then, I’ll try my best to live with you. I don’t know how it’ll go, but I know I’ll see you soon.

                        Best,

                           Cidney

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