I thought about the opposite sex endlessly, and as I grew up, it became an almost all-consuming desire: resting my head against the soft fullness of a breast (pendulous or pert, it didn't matter), was an exquisite lullaby; being enfolded by a woman, entering a woman, was a thrilling voyage of discovery, as well as a homecoming to the warmest, safest place I'd ever been.

To be human is often an endless tangle of invisible forces and confounding paradoxes, of being many things all at the same time.