Girls who r Boys who like BoysYou say that you're a boy, so why do you like dresses?
I've been raised to like dresses and frills and ribbons and all sorts of prettiness. I've been raised as girl, even though I'm not.
But why do you wear them? And make-up your face? Doesn't that make you a girl?
Have you ever heard the term "drag queen?" I have, and I will apply it nowto myself.
You're such a pretty girl. Why do you want to be a boy?
Do you really think that's what it all comes down to? I don't "want" to be a boy; I am boy. I'd rather be a girlwith the mind to match my body. But this mismatched creature this is me. This is who I am.
That's dumb. No one will ever see you as a boy.
How Far Would You Run-Rydon-6He Was Just Hanging Around When He Fell In Love
It takes an hour of crying and soothing and coaxing but eventually I convince Ryan to let me take him back to my apartment, where I tuck him into my bed.
"Now you just lie here and I'll make you something to eat, okay?" I tell him and drop a kiss on his forehead before I can chicken out. "Feel better soon," I say and scramble off to take on the kitchen.
I settle on baking snicker-doodle cookies and making hot chocolate. Delicious, comfort foodshould be perfect, right? Singing to myself, I dance around the kitchen until the timer on the oven goes off.
When I come back into my room, carrying a tray of cookies and chocolaty goodness, Ryan's asleep, and I pause for a second to watch his peaceful slumber. You angel, I think affectionately, setting the tray down on my bedside table. When did you fall from heaven?
Barely containing a happy squeal, I crawl onto my bed and cuddle up to Ryan. I know he's asleep and probab