Bi — My Boy Is So

"Because people are afraid of what they can’t categorize, Leo," I told him. "You’re a glitch in their matrix."

For Leo, being a "bi boy" meant living in a constant state of translation. In some circles, he was "too queer"; in others, he was "passing." He had to navigate the girls who thought he was just a "safe" best friend and the guys who thought he was just a pit stop on the way to coming out as fully gay. My Boy Is So Bi

As the years passed, Leo stopped explaining. He started wearing his identity like a second skin—not a shield, but a light. He taught me that his bisexuality wasn't about being 50/50; it was about being 100% capable of seeing beauty without the borders of gender. "Because people are afraid of what they can’t

I watched him go through the "Bisexual Erasure" gauntlet. I saw him date Maya, and heard the whispers that he’d "picked a side." Then I saw him fall for Julian, and heard the same voices say, "See? We knew he was gay all along." As the years passed, Leo stopped explaining

One night, after a particularly exhausting party where someone had called his identity a "phase," Leo sat on my kitchen counter, picking at the label of a beer.

"They want me to be a finished book," he said, his voice thick. "They want to flip to the last page and see a label. But I’m a series. I’m a whole library. Why is my capacity to love more people seen as a lack of commitment to myself?"