It’s 2:45 PM on Monday. I always have lunch on MWF with my boyfriend who actually is a biological female who feels like a guy on the inside, which means I am dating a preop FTM transgendered American citizen also meaning she is "he" who is my boyfriend. This also means that technically I am gay because I am in love with a female that really is internally a male. It’s a lot to wrap your head around I know. I was hopping it Picadilly (our favorite laidback place. No drama here always.) to meet Terry, my boyfriend. After I sat down, with him after getting my Super Dilly, I was met with, “I have something to tell you.” I had barely sweetened my ice tea with one artificial blue and pink sweetener. “I’m straight,” he said with a straight face. I stared at my baked chicken which looked confused as I did. Terry (Terri when he was she) looked at me, he was casually dressed like an alternative Rockband player. I pondered my sexuality for a bit. You know sexuality seems easier in high school when you just have straight and gay and no between. However, sexuality in the real world was like a calculus problem, complex as hell. “So, you are telling me…that you are a female…that feels like a male…who realized that he was gay…but now you are telling me that you are a male who has realized he is straight,” I should have gotten a regular Dilly. “Yes, so I have to break up with you. I am in love with a woman,” Terry grabbed my hand that was holding my fork and asked, “We can still friends?” I looked at Terry and then at my food. “Friends let friends enjoy their Dillys at Picadilly,” I thought.