My Boy Is So Bi -

He’s still "my boy"—my best friend, the guy who cries at Pixar movies and builds custom PCs. But now, he’s a version of himself that doesn't hold his breath. He moves through the world with a dual-citizenship of the heart, proving that the most beautiful thing you can be is "both/and" in a world that insists on "either/or."

"They want me to be a finished book," he said, his voice thick. "They want to flip to the last page and see a label. But I’m a series. I’m a whole library. Why is my capacity to love more people seen as a lack of commitment to myself?" My Boy Is So Bi

I watched him go through the "Bisexual Erasure" gauntlet. I saw him date Maya, and heard the whispers that he’d "picked a side." Then I saw him fall for Julian, and heard the same voices say, "See? We knew he was gay all along." He’s still "my boy"—my best friend, the guy

He laughed, a light, genuine sound. "It’s not even a spectrum, man. It’s just… everything. My boy is so bi," he whispered to himself, testing the words like a new pair of shoes. "Yeah. That fits." But the world doesn’t always let things fit so easily. "They want to flip to the last page and see a label

One night, after a particularly exhausting party where someone had called his identity a "phase," Leo sat on my kitchen counter, picking at the label of a beer.

I looked at him—the boy I’d known since we were both knees and elbows—and realized the tension he’d been carrying for years had finally evaporated.

"Because people are afraid of what they can’t categorize, Leo," I told him. "You’re a glitch in their matrix."