I'm coming out.

I don't think I love you, anymore. Maybe I never did...

All these years, I thought I knew who I was, but I was wrong.

All the times I've said I love you, I was lying. Well, "lying" suggests negative intent, so maybe that's not right. I never meant to deceive you or anyone else. I just hadn't come to realize that if I loved YOU, I'd love every version of you - including the times when you don't look so good or bore me with stories about every day life. I tried to deny this, but that's still YOU. Instead of appreciating that about you, I look at you and imagine muscular men in tight, revealing clothing (or half-naked), flexing, posing, and dominating. Only then I am able to achieve satisfaction.

In fact, I've got to confess that I've been cheating on you. Imagining with you is nice, but sometimes I need more. Sometimes I... I watch videos of men... doing things to each other... and I really like it. No, I LOVE it. To be totally honest, I wish I could join in. I'll never TRULY be satisfied until *I'm* the one with a man in my arms, bending to my will.

Until then, I'll just have to keep using my imagination and hanging out with my friends, who sometimes dress up in outlandish costumes. It's a support-group, of sorts. We don't always get along, but many of us are still in the closet, so to speak. We keep this side of ourselves from the rest of the world, knowing they're unlikely to understand.

I'll still come back to you, if you'll have me. But, please understand that I can't limit myself, anymore. None of us can. In the meantime, this is where you can find us - talking about all the different things we love to do.

My sweet comic books, I hope, one day, that you'll understand how I came to realize that I love superheroes more than I love you.