So here I am. Cooped up in the bathroom with the clothes I picked out to wear in a neat pile on the toilet, while I’m standing in front of the mirror, staring at my mostly naked self. Trying to figure out why I’m so nervous.
My family already knows and loves Lee. They’ve never had trouble with me being gay. There’s zero chance of a negative reaction from them, but despite that, my belly is full of butterflies.
You’re ridiculous, I mouth to the mirror, then I nod as though I’m agreeing with myself.
I run my fingers through my hair, making a mess of the curls I painstakingly brushed just minutes ago until I look like my head got caught in a wind tunnel.
“Get dressed,” I mutter to myself, but I still make no move to grab the clothes.
Not even when Lee wiggles the door handle and does something that produces weird noises, do I do anything but stand there, like my atoms are frozen at absolute zero and unable to move.