magically start being straight.
He hasn’t been back to the house since, but I’ve seen him a few times. He’s come to visit me at my babysitting jobs, but it’s hard for him to get away from work much, so mostly we talk when he calls the house. He always waits until he knows Mom will be out.
He’s living with a bunch of guys on Polk Street. Dean invited him to move to Palo Alto, but he decided to stay in the city and take classes at CCSF instead. He’s got a new job at a restaurant that pays a lot more than he used to get at Javi’s, so he can cover his own rent and tuition.
Mom wrote him a letter a couple of weeks ago and asked me to mail it to him. She wants him to move back home. She offered to pay his tuition to State the way they’d planned, but she made it clear he’d have to live under her rules.
He wrote back and said no. He’s making his own choices now.
I’m happy for him, but…I’ve lost him, Tammy. I always knew I would someday, but I wasn’t ready for it to happen this fast. He’ll always be my brother, but he isn’t mine anymore.
But that doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, either. When I see him now, he looks so happy. He’s finally getting to be himself, even if he’s doing it without me.
Anyway, I…
Okay, look. Tammy, I’ve got to admit, I’m kind of stalling.
I didn’t sit down to write this letter because I wanted to give you an update on my family. I sat down to write because I wanted to tell you everything I didn’t get to say that day.
I read the letter you gave me. It was incredible, Tammy. Still, though…you wrote that months ago. With everything that’s happened, the way you feel might’ve changed. I totally understand if that’s what happened.
But for me…the way I feel has only gotten stronger.
So, here goes. I’m going to write all this, straight through, without going back to cross anything out or erase it.
I think I’m bisexual.
And…it’s like you said in your letter. I feel the same way you did. I want to share the world with you, too.
Wow. Okay. I wrote that down. Everything else should be easy from here, right?
No—this isn’t easy at all. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely write. The idea of saying that was so scary, for so long.
I’m sorry if knowing this makes you feel awkward. I missed my chance back on Gay Freedom Day, and that’s my own fault.
And you’d have every right to hate me after the way I completely failed to help when your aunt was here. Or maybe you’re dating one of those cool women you live with now, and you’d have every right to do that, too.
I just needed you to know.
There’s only one other thing I have to do, and then I’ll make sure you get this letter. I can’t mail it—there isn’t time—but I’ve got a plan. The thing I have to do first is a big deal, a really big deal, but writing this gave me the courage I needed.
I’m so sorry. Even after we made our pledge, it took me this long to be truly, totally honest.
It took me longer to be honest with myself, too, but I’m trying to do better on that front as well. Starting right now.
Yours, Sharon
Friday, September 22, 1978
Dear Diary,
This is going to be messy, since I’m writing on a bus. There’s no way I’ll have time to write about everything that’s happened so far before we have to stop, but I need to get down what I can before I start to forget.
The first thing I did this morning, after I finished my letter to Tammy and slid it into my backpack, was go see my mother.
I knocked lightly on her bedroom door and hefted the backpack on my shoulder.