I love my boyfriend, Ryan, so much. He means so much to me. He is political, he speaks for the oppressed, and he knows how to have a good time. Also, he’s great in bed. I’ve been through so much with Ryan. He comforts me when I am depressed, understands me when I have family problems, and protects me from nearby harm.
When I realized I am a demiwoman, he said he always knew and he supported me. When I confided to him my biggest fear, he was willing to assist me so I could continue to enjoy myself. When I told him all of the terrible things that various boys have done to me, he never said “not all men” and he understood me.
Ryan and I were friends before we became a couple, and I even turned him down once. He never made me feel like I owed him anything, and he never pulled the “nice guy” card. He exemplifies what a decent human being should be, but in this culture, it’s something I highly praise.
Ryan does have some things I don’t like, such as a dislike of rollercoasters (so he can’t be my ride buddy), but I feel his good qualities outweigh the bad.
Maybe one day, soon, he and I can move in together in a small apartment filled with Ikea furniture and Daiso toiletries.