I haven’t just spent this long morning reflecting on queens and hanged men. I’ve also spent a lot of time thinking about my last conversation with Cleo, the one where they told me they loved me. Back in Charvan, I didn’t just look at Anwar’s social media. I spent far more time looking over the doodles Cleo drew of us during this trip. Each one has Cleo and me drawn right next to each other, the way it feels like it has always been.

Except now, these images—our entire relationship—takes on a whole new meaning.

Cleo’s confession might have taken me by surprise, but I found once I had a little space to process, I already knew exactly how I felt. The realization cut like a knife, slicing my heart right open.

“I love you, too, Cleo,” I say, clean and clear. “I belong with you. I think I always have.”

Click here

“Cleo, in so many ways you’re my best friend,” I begin. “I so badly want to be everything you want, but I don’t have the same romantic feelings.”

Click here

“Wait. What?”

Cleo appears thunderstruck. I know I probably should have built up to this proclamation, but some things are meant to be entered into fearlessly. Goddess knows I should have seen this sooner, looking back.

“Be careful what you wish for, huh?” I grin. “You wanted Major Amelia. It seems you’ve got her.”

“But I…” Cleo tries to absorb my words. They stop walking almost involuntarily, as if needing the energy to free up more functions. “I didn’t even think you were bi?”

“Well, since you’re nonbinary, I’m not sure what identity that adds up to?”

“Pansexual?” Cleo offers.

“I’m not sure what to call it. But what I am sure of? I might not have thought of you in a romantic light before, but once I did, something clicked into place. It surprised me, honestly. But then, very quickly, it didn’t. You’re the most beautiful, smart, impressive person I know. I’m into you, Cleo. That doesn’t have to mean anything else, at the moment.”

Cleo stares back at me through their purple glasses like they still can’t believe what’s happening. Maybe it’s the undiluted sunshine or the thinning air up here, but everything has taken on a slightly surreal quality, heightened and rosy at the same time. If Cleo can’t find the words yet, that’s fine. I have plenty more.