I just finished a book called Symptoms of Being Human. In it the main character’s girlfriend, Bec, says that humans aren’t cans, we don’t require labels. Or something to that effect. I like labels. They are my way of classifying things in my head. Boy, girl, gender neutral. Queer, straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual, a combination. He, she, they. I like labels. People are complicated. Messy. We are too complicated for labels. For 3 years I have been trying to find my label. Bisexual? I don’t feel bisexual. Bi-romantic asexual? Too complicated. I would spend the bus ride home looking up different sexual orientations. Now, I identify as queer/questioning. I’m confused. 

I have a transgender friend. Tamara identifies as a man, although the was born a woman. He is also gay. His family is very conservative. They would likely send him to conversion therapy. I asked to have a sleepover with him. I say, “hey, mom? Can Tamara have a sleepover? He and I have a lot of fun talking, and we like the same music.” I haven’t found many friends who like the same musicals as I do. My brothers say, “he?!?” I say, “he.” My dad tells me that a girl and a boy can’t have sleepovers. 

I think it is ridiculous that my friend-who i would never fuck, who has no dick- cannot come over for a sleepover because he identifies as male. 

I haven’t come out to my parents yet. 

I should continue this line of thought but I’m dead tired. Goodnight, all.

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