Page 61 of This Is Who I Am

“Babe, I, um, I?—”

“It’s okay, Cassie.” I slip my hand in hers. “You can tell me anything, but talk to me, please. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m working through something.” Cass shifts her body so she no longer has to look at me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I know that we have to talk, but it’s hard. I’ve never had a conversation like this. I never thought I would have a conversation about this…”

“Try. For me.” My heart’s already shrinking in my chest, like it can somehow brace itself for what’s coming.

“I’m trying to…” Cass swallows hard. “Figure out how to live with wanting you and not being able to act on it.” She squeezes my hand.

Oh, fuck. Here we go again. I exhale a breath and try hard not to sigh. I’ve learned a few valuable lessons from similar conversations in the past. But it’s still hard for me not to take this personally.

“Is that why you don’t want to have sex anymore?” I ask.

“Oh, Estelle, I want to have sex, but I’m afraid… I don’t trust myself. I’m afraid of what I might say or that my hand may wander and that I will cross your boundaries and…” She huffs out some air. “I’m sorry. I know that I have to accept this. I just don’t know how to do it.” Her shoulders sag. “Not having sex seemed like a good enough solution.”

“You know I’m okay with that, but I’m not sure you are.”

“I’m not.” It sounds like a scoff. “I want you so fucking much. You’re so… everything I want.”

Once again, I, Estelle Raymond, don’t stack up. I’m not enough. I probably never will be.

When Cass looks at me, her eyes are moist. “What is the solution to this?”

Did I do this? Did I go about it all wrong again? Probably. What with the impromptu kissing her and saying that I can have sex, but I can only give. I should have just said that sex was a total no-go for me. Why do I have to make it so hard? Have I learned nothing from all that scar tissue on my heart?

“I’m not going to change, Cass.” I shake my head. “I would if I could.” In a fucking heartbeat. “But I really can’t. I’ve tried everything.” My eyes fill with tears as well, because I can’t offer a solution—not an easy one, at least. Not one that doesn’t require my partner to do all the work, which is always, invariably, the issue as well as the breaking point.

“I’m so in love with you,” she says on a sigh, as though she’s cursed instead of in love.

“I’m in love with you too.” Most of the time, in my experience, it’s not enough.

“I know that… I… have to find a way,” Cass says. “I will. I promise you, babe. Just bear with me. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can.” I thread my fingers tightly through hers. “Can you?” Because that’s the real question here.

“If I have to choose between a life with you where I can’t touch you fully and a life without you at all, the choice is crystal clear.” She wraps her fingers around mine. “I want to be with you. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.”

My muscles relax, but only a fraction. Because what if this is only the first tear in the fragile fabric we have woven between us?

“I just…” She wipes a dangling tear from her eyelashes. “I like to give, sometimes even more than receiving. And I need the reciprocity of sex. I have such a desire to see you surrender. I know we use the words give and receive, but when you ‘give’ me an orgasm, I also feel like I give you something back. I give you something from deep inside of me, something special that’s not just for anyone to have, and I crave that from you. I’m sorry, but I do.”

I nod. “I get it,” is all I can say, however. Because I can’t give her what she so craves.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” She exhales deeply again. “Sex isn’t just an orgasm to me. It’s intimacy and closeness and shared vulnerability and…” She pauses. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard. To want you this much but hold myself back. To yearn for that connection and know I can’t have it the way I need to.”

“I’m sorry.” As a rule, I try not to apologize for who I am, for how I was born, but sometimes, in moments like this, an apology is all I have to offer.

“I’m sorry too,” Cass says. “That I’m not better at this. At accepting you exactly as you are. I mean, you are magnificent. You make my life a million times more fun. You’ve made me come alive again at a time when I really wasn’t expecting it and I should be nothing but grateful, but…” Her voice trails off.

“You want the one thing you can’t have.” I wish it didn’t sound so trivial, so cliché, so like something that can easily be changed—or accepted.

“Yes, but I also want you.” A small smile appears on her face. “I was so afraid to have this conversation.” Her hold on my hand loosens. “I have been meaning to talk to you about this instead of, you know, avoiding certain situations, but this whole thing… I’m so worried I will say or do the wrong thing, which isn’t usually how I am, but… I guess I’m most afraid of losing you.”

“Whether you lose me is entirely up to you,” I say, because that’s truly how I see it. “I’m not going anywhere and…” I smile back, because how can I not? “There is no wrong thing to say or do. Everything is fixable. I know you are respectful. I appreciate that.”

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