I expected my feelings for Richard to subside, especially after the previous, happy summer with Ralph. I caught my friend up on one of our walks together, the wonderful time Ralph and I had in Paris, how our relationship was as strong and supportive as ever. All of this was true, but there continued to be an intimacy between me and Richard that went beyond what we talked about and extended to the ways we interacted, how we found ourselves alone on benches, or talking about our hopes as we sat on the grass, or even in his room, in his bed a few times. Maybe this was something all men needed to some degree, intimate friendships with those whom they could share their deepest thoughts, but American society frowned upon such closeness. I allowed my relationship with Richard to develop even though there were times when it felt unbearable to me.

One of my first class assignments that semester was to take a self-portrait, and I set up a tripod in my living room on an early fall day. My hair had gotten long, so I decided to tie part of it back, let the rest fall to my shoulders, and then set the timer. I sat on my couch, rested my hands on the arm, and turned my head toward one of the bay windows. When I presented the image in class, the other students talked about how androgynous it was, the interplay between the sunny window against my only slightly darker outline, how my face was delicate even though I had strong features. I found myself inspired to play with my gender again. After several years of button-downs and slacks, I returned to the aisles of Allston Beat, the garment district, and Filene’s Basement, adding translucent, tight, and shiny fabrics to my wardrobe. Ralph didn’t seem too intimidated. “I see you’re experimenting again,” he said when I modeled some of my new outfits for him.

One weekend in October, Ralph was out of town for a conference, so I decided to have a last-minute gender-bending party at our apartment, which felt oddly clandestine because it was the first time my new artist life would spill over into the quiet space I shared with my partner. I replaced our regular bulbs with red lights and picked up some movie posters to put up on the walls—Rocky Horror, Ma Vie en Rose, The Crying Game—then put together a mix CD with Boy George, Annie Lennox, and the Pet Shop Boys.