The first time you realize what life is going to be like now, is when you tell your white (lily-white diamond-white snow-white) therapist about your brother. About how, when you asserted with the shaky confidence she’d sown in you, that there wasn’t gay and straight and bi, really, that “it’s all on a spectrum,” he’d arched his eyebrows, indulging his pc lefty academic baby sister, and said, patiently, “I don’t know if it

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