I Remember

I remember black-and-blue patterned shirts and the stale smell of sebaceous oil. I remember light-filled middle school stairwells. I remember reading Little House on the Prairie. I remember feeling grown up. I remember telling people I was gay, meaning happy. I remember telling people I was gay, meaning homosexual, and waiting for their response. I only remember some of their responses. I remember wearing a blue sweater and realizing I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been happy. It was in math class. I remember a red-cheeked teacher who accused me of lying. (I was.) I remember the first...

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