I spent most of last night’s dream in a romance with a dun dun DUN cisgender man. I actually felt guilty when I woke up. But while walking the dog, I started to see this from a different angle.
— He replied to a personal that I posted to Lex, which is a space which specifically excludes cis men. I thought he was trans. But he claimed not to know and aren’t we getting on so well? I didn’t come out until I was in my mid-30s after years of being quietly bisexual… maybe I was wrong and shouldn’t I give him a chance?
— But he lives in Syracuse and can’t leave his family! Maybe let him know next time I’m in town? Oh, I can totally change my plans next weekend to visit? Well maybe he’s available.
— The whole family is genuinely and disturbingly unwell. From following us around and making up stories to literally shooting at anything that brothers them. One of his sisters is trying to start a cult but refuses to recruit outside their apartment building. I can’t live with these people and feel safe, but he refuses to leave.
— Late 30s, but he’s still got white boy dreads.
I dunno. It all feels very comp-het and manipulative in the light of day.