Role Playing

by Cathy Yardley

“I don’t like leaving the house, though. In fact, I’ll do a lot to actively avoid leaving the house.

My best friend from middle school, although married to a guy, is bi. Granted, I don’t think her parents know, and sometimes she feels like she doesn’t represent it well since she’s married to a guy and has several kids, but I tell her that’s total bullshit. It’s not like you have to get verified like Twitter, for fuck’s sake.”

“The thing is, I wasn’t interested in anybody else. Sheryl and Jordan, that was it. People kept saying I should get out there and date, and I’d try, even try to hook up. But I just couldn’t get there.”

“But from what I understand, demisexual people don’t feel sexual attraction until they form, like, an emotional attachment. They’re never going to be love at first sight, and they’re not going to have one-night stands. Where allosexual people might be drawn to people sexually and then build a relationship after that spark, you’d be kind of the opposite.”

The idea that there might be an explanation for something he’d always felt like a freak about was eye opening. The thought that he wasn’t alone in it was more comforting than he’d ever realized.

Most people drain me like an old cell phone battery. You don’t exhaust me either. I feel better after I hang out with you.”

“And why shouldn’t I? What you’re saying is, Mom can be a total biphobe and hypocrite . . . but I should stay here to take care of her despite it, no matter how she treats me. She can make choices, like driving a car despite having multiple accidents and incidents of dizziness and falling . . . but I need to be the one to deal with the consequences of her choices. Also, I need to deny who I am while I do that and ensure that she never hears gossip about me, which I can’t even control.”

“Oh, and it’s fine that you treat me like a monster in front of my nieces, telling them God knows what . . . while you two refuse to come out here and take care of Mom, because I’m here.” He felt like he was drowning, but he kept his gaze firm. “Monster that I am.”

“I tried,” Aiden said in a low voice. “But I’m not going to stay here, continuing to get kicked. Mom, you deserve to be treated with respect . . . but I deserve that too. And if you can’t give that to me, then I guess we are done.”

“You can’t just leave!” “Why not?” Aiden asked. “I have felt like shit most of my life in this family. I had a college boyfriend who kept me hidden and made me feel ashamed for loving him.

I’m surrounded by people who are supposed to love me, as long as I somehow become what they expect of me. And I’m done, okay? I. Am. Done.”