If I were queer, wouldn’t I at least sort of know? It’s my own brain. I have open access to it. No one’s redacting parts of the story. Especially not something as fundamental as who I’m attracted to. And I know denial exists. But this isn’t denial. Denial’s a curtain with a clear truth behind it. There’s no curtain to pull back here. I’m staring straight at this question, shining every light on it, and still—
