Sep 4, 2019
8 min read
A Chronicle of Closeted Sex Acts
When being gay still felt like an epic disaster
1.There is a picture of me as a toddler kissing a little boy named Jack. We are sitting on a miniature white wicker chair on the front porch of my house. We both have short, wispy curls, his blonde and mine brown, that fall just above the base of our necks. He’s wearing a light blue t-shirt with dark blue stripes. It’s covered…
