“I don’t want to risk everything if this isn’t real,” I whisper. “But I also don’t want to pretend like this doesn’t change things for me. Because it does.” “I know,” he says. “Your sexuality doesn’t define you, but it is a part of you.” His words are tight, voice breaking ever so slightly. I squeeze his hand gently, an understanding passing between us. “But questioning who you are? It’s a risk we all take. It’s your risk to take if you want to. No one else gets to decide this for you; it’s your life.”
