Coming out, I once read, refers not only to the process of disclosing your identity to other folks, but also to yourself.

At TheNervousBreakdown.com, I wrote about coming out. I discussed my early crushes, innocent things from when I was in single digits. Desire is a teacher, a revealer.

I also talked about candy, the sweet stuff that is forbidden but craved.

There was the redheaded boy across the street. There was someone else on a baseball field. But there was also Cherry, the meanest girl at school – and my crush.

An excerpt from TheNervousBreakdown.com:

I don’t remember Cherry’s real name, partially because the years have erased it, and mostly because I don’t care now about the truth of her.

I care about the truth of me.

About the truth of candy and of the difference between sharing it and giving it all away because the latter feels, strangely, safer.

I care about the truth in being one of God’s spies chasing the forbidden in a very Catholic, all-girls school.

I never intended to give it all away to Cherry, but she was a first, so she got it all anyhow.