My inner man and I have been staring at each other a lot lately.
We are not yet on speaking terms.
He is understandably pissed at being locked away my entire life and only being taken out to be punished for being a man.
It is strange to have been exploring my repressed sexuality with such zeal, and then realize that all the prisoners have not been let out of the dungeon.
Well I let him out.
He has opinions occasionally. Sometimes he just sleeps.
I think he’s a switch.
It scares me to write that. Like my dominance is somehow compromised. Silly.
I’m still a woman. But I’ve felt I was also something else. Connections.
I’m used to being fairly sure where I am, even if it’s a new permutation of the same path. Well, right now we have wandered off the path, into the woods, and are now wading through a goddamn swamp. I have no idea where I am.
But I don’t think we’re going to be eaten by alligators. Not just yet.
