I love that they try to see me through me. Even if they miss.
But maybe I’m a kaleidoscope. Maybe everyone who looks at me sees a different girl.
leviackermanscravatokay, am I the only one that thinks that sassy is aroace-spec? she’s left us many hints. a thread.
I sit up on the bed, a gasp clawing its way out of my throat. What? Is this… are they joking? My thumb hovers over the screen, heart thudding, hesitating for a moment before I muster the courage to open the thread.
leviackermanscravatwhat do we know about Sassy? she loves books, TV, and anime. the lyrics in MM, SB, and TMoYaI are all consistent with character plotlines in some of her favorite stories.
leviackermanscravatin one of her first videos, you can see the edge of what looks like an aroace flag in the corner of her room. see screenshot.
leviackermanscravatalso remember when she went Live and we all watched Saiki K? (that’s how she ended up dying her hair pastel pink, but I digress). in this video she jokingly mentioned she related to him because of the way he approached relationships. Saiki K is rumored to be aroace-spec.
leviackermanscravatalso, notice how she always avoids talking about her relationship status in interviews? even though her album is about love, she’snever once stated that it’s based on personal experience, that’s just what we’ve *assumed*
sashasdiscardedtoenailswe’ve also assumed her songs were about a guy. she could be gay. in her song YHIM she says “not a single word was heard, I regret leaving you,” but if you think about it for a second, “I regret leaving her” rhymes better. it’s a clue.
leviackermanscravatwhy not aroace?
sashasdiscardedtoenailsshe writes love songs. what are the odds that she’s aromantic and asexual?
Except that’s exactly what I am. I’m an aromantic, asexual girl who loves romance. Just not when it’s about me.
I crack my knuckles, rereading the words if only to make sure I haven’t imagined them. Someone has seen me. Not Sassy. But Sasha, the real me.
Heat shoots to my face. I don’t know if I should be terrified or relieved. Maybe it’s both, I wonder, as I tap on the like button, hiding behind the anonymity of my private, anonymous account I use for lurking. I’m not sure what moves me to do it. Maybe it’s my own way of telling myself that it’s okay to be me, even if people don’t get to see it.
I like being aroace, but sometimes I feel like the world won’t love me back. I’ve heard some aroace people have a period of mourning once they realize they might never fallin love, but I’ve never craved it in the way I saw my friends crave it, as if being single were a disease to be cured. I don’t know if that makes me weird—to love romance while simultaneously not wanting it for myself.
I’m not sure when I first realized it. Well, I do, but I don’t like to think about it.
It just became impossible to ignore when everyone around me became sex-crazed and partner-crazed during high school. I wasn’t, but compulsory heterosexuality fools everyone, and I was convinced that I needed to giveita try to keep up.Itbeing relationships and sex.
So I did. But no matter how long I waited for the butterflies, they never came.
There are a few people who know, like my moms, my best friend Mia, and Marissa.
My fingers trace the outline of a friendship bracelet that no longer sits around my wrist.
And Kai.
It’s not like I’ve tried to keep it a secret. It’s just… with how crazy things have been since I released the album, it never seemed like the right moment to come out publicly. There was always something to announce, something to release, and it felt like my sexuality didn’t fit into the mix.
Why should it even? It’s my personal life. But now everyone has assumed I’m straight because of the guy everyone thinks the album is about.
“You’re still not dressed?” Marissa breezes into my room and leans against the threshold, the smell of cheese and tomato sauce wafting up from downstairs. She raises aneyebrow, a quizzical expression on her face as she finds me huddled in bed, draped in a bathrobe while water trickles from the towel around my hair and onto the sheets. “Guess what. I’ve found a new K-drama to watch.”
I yawn. “I’m actually kinda tired…”
“It’s enemies to lovers.”
“Okay, I’m listening.” I lean on my elbows and sit up.
“No phones allowed. You’ll read the spoilers.” Which, fair. I tend to panic and look at spoilers when we’re watching stuff together, and I accidentally end up telling her. “Hey, I ordered three-cheese pizza in the end. I didn’t feel like having pineapple. Is that okay?” She disappears downstairs, her voice echoing through the walls.
She knows I don’t like three-cheese pizza, but she does. It’s okay. She drove me home after all. I fish for some sweatpants and a T-shirt before following her to the living room. A notification flashes across my screen when I lock my phone, then the battery dies. I’m too distracted to charge it or check what it was.
That is my first mistake.
