I don’t know if I’m gay.
You know when you are stuck in traffic and you look at the window and the women in the matatu beside yours just arrests you with her beauty? You feel this knot in your intestines, you smile it off. The matatu starts moving and the knowledge that you’ll never see her again makes you uneasy. Why though? What is it about her beauty that makes … Continue reading I don’t know if I’m gay.