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“Fantasizing about boys felt like a healing paper cut: uncomfortable, but manageable. While imagining a future with a man I mistook the relief of companionship for romance, and the anxiety for chemistry. When I pictured him saying ‘you’re mine’, it felt like being trapped, too possessive, I did not want my heart stolen but at least being kept in a cage would keep me safe. Dreaming about kissing boys seemed acquiescent, as long as my eyes were glued shut the entire time. This was love, right? When I saw her for the first time I was mesmerized and I have never wanted to give up custody of my own heart more; She felt like home, like freedom, and all the discomfort I had assumed was natural melted, just like I did whenever she touched me. Her laughter reminded me why the earth revolved around the sun and when we kissed it felt like I had found the world’s greatest treasure without even searching for it. When I imagine a lifetime with her it doesn’t feel cumbersome anymore and I realize it was meant to feel this way all along.”

“she would only kiss me under the black safety of a new moon, only love me beyond city limits. we learned to find each other in nuance, in the thousand ways she could say she loved me without the words ever breaking her lips. someone should have told us. girls like us need a warning sign. you can’t be young and foolish when your love is synonymous with rebellion. you can’t kiss her in the streets unless you want to be living on them.”

This suburban house features a dry moat with a Japanese-style footbridge loading to the front door.