Chapter 15
I reseated myself, adjusting myself discretely under the table.
After another sip of coffee, he looked at me. His gaze was uneasy—thatwas no surprise; but it was also questioning. He put his head a little on one side.
I sat there, and looked back at him, thinking benevolent thoughts.
He frowned suddenly. “I’m not gay.”
I controlled my surprise at this, and merely shrugged. “Fair enough.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I just have this—problem.”
I shook my head. “Remember what I said, that some psychologists believe that it’s not a pathology at all; there’s nothing inherently wrong with it.”
He opened his mouth. “But—”
I shook my head. “I know. It’s frowned on, it causes problems. But like I said, that’s the effect of not just your nature, but the interaction of that nature with social norms.”
He nodded hesitantly.
“And, I think there’s something else. I think that it’s partly your lack of being comfortable in it. Like I said: being yourself.”