I.W. Gregorio

The common thread from all those stories was that talking helped, and listening, and time. One day I would find my own place. I couldn't run there, though, because it didn't exist yet; I had to build it myself, out of forgiveness, truth, and terrifying gestures of friendship.

I could still feel the echo of his hand on mine.

Love isn__ a choice. You fall for the person, not their chromosomes.