Hello, have we met?
I am a sexually active asexual (sometimes), aromantic woman in a romantic relationship, and a proud, child free (not) mother of three. I am single…ish. Only my partner of twelve years, my intimate friendships, my play partners. But I check “Single” on my tax form. Or I used to, before I entered a domestic partnership. But I’m not married, okay?
I guess my not a child actually hates me. She demonstrates this by dragging me to her room to play games on our phones together– but that’s merely the way she expresses hostility. (Also, she hates my cookies– she only eats them out of spite.). No, she hates me. Her mother tells me so.
Ah, I will probably die alone surrounded by my cats. I should tell my master to make sure we get some cats. I’ll get right on that. Just as soon as I finish cuddling with him. But then after that.
I am the impossible girl.
I should not exist. I am an inherent contradiction. Nothing about me fits what should be, and, yet, somehow, here I am. I’ve heard too many times that I cannot have something, only, somehow, I already have it.
I have my Love. My family. My circle, my tribe.
Ah, well, they are surely right. I am queer, after all. Truthfully, I’m probably merely confused.
…I feel like this a lot.
Living in the most absurd, topsy turviest world imaginable or unimaginable. Like you can’t believe you even exist some days. Or that the things that happen near you, far from you, surrounding you, are actually, tangibly real.
It’s crazy, I tell you.