My sentient book smiles. “For some reason, I felt like I couldn’t be asexual and have connections to other people,” he continues, laying it all out for me and chuckling at how silly this now seems. “But when I was sitting there at the other table, I suddenly realized there were no rules about who I am. I can be romantic without wanting to have sex. I can love without wanting to have sex. Anyone who says otherwise is… is…” “A fucking asshole,” I chime in.
