'Am I a man, or a woman?'

This had been the question which kept me tormenting through many a year. For the first seventeen years of my life I had believed myself to be a woman. Then my world came crumbling down, labelling me as an intersex, a person carrying the traits of both a man and a woman within their body.

Why did I choose to be a man?

The decision was made partly because of the doctors' opinion that it would be easier to make a man out of me than trying to refine my half-formed ovaries and fallopian tube and create a fully functional female body there.

Yet, a part of the reason lay in the world's rejection of me as a female as well as a man. My identity seemed to hang in a twilight zone forever and I simply refused to accept that.

Wouldn't it have been easier to remain an intersex forever? But I just couldn't do that. I was not raised as one and standing at the doorway of adulthood it was not possible for me to accept myself that way. I had to see myself either as a woman or a man, and the latter seemed to be just easier.

Yet, in all these years I never felt any particular attraction towards either men or women. I was fascinated by beauty and strength of human body, and still, never felt any desire to hold one in my embrace.

I had always believed myself to be an asexual person, lacking the emotional aspect of being a man or a woman, but then Misha came into my life. Like a bolt of lightning, she struck this withered tree of mine and sent it blazing. My whole being went up in flames of desire, craving to touch her warm skin and melt into it.

We walked side by side through the dark alley which led to her apartment. It was one of those narrow lanes spreading through the entire area of the Third Block, like the threads in a giant spider web.

After her narrow escape on the road, Misha was feeling shaky. So I decided to walk her home as soon as possible. It was less than fifteen minutes' walking distance from the crossing where we met, so walking was the best option available.

We didn't have a plan for a date or something tonight. She was not in the city for almost a month and I just craved for at least one glimpse of her.

All this time we weren't actually dating anyway, just meeting on the streets, sometimes riding together, sometimes having street foods and chatting all along. I was afraid of the spark igniting within me each time we came closer and I didn't have the heart to take it further, to allow myself to be consumed by the flame. Whenever I looked into her eyes, I knew that she, too had been feeling the same way.

All this time, an intangible barrier stood between us. But tonight, it seemed to have melted away, allowing us to see through each other.

As we walked, our shoulders brushed and our hands touched each other. Each time that happened, I felt like a tongue of flame had touched my skin. A sizzling warmth had started to spread from the tip of my toes to my scalp and I basked in it.

A glow of yellowish light showed from the right side. The alley took a right turn there and joined a broader lane.

"I live in an apartment in the building at the corner", Misha said.

"Should I leave from here, then?"  I asked. I didn't know how her family would take it that she was being escorted home by a young man late at night.

"I live alone," she laughed, "but I've some curious neighbours".

"Then I'll turn back from here."

I stopped in my tracks and turned sideways to face her. She had stopped, too. Behind her the boundary wall of the next row of buildings rose high above her head. The place was deserted and dark, with only a faint glow of light coming from above. There was the moon high above our heads, but its rays failed to reach the narrow alleyway properly.

In that faint light her face glowed with a strange softness. She was standing with her back to the wall. I leaned and placed my hands on the wall, trapping her within the wall and my body. She leaned forward, too. I could feel her lips brushing against my cheeks and then, against my lips.

The pair of warm, moist petals of her lips rested upon my lips which reacted on their own. They pressed hard on her lips, prying her mouth open slowly. My tongue probed inside her mouth and found the tip of her tongue. They collided against each other and entangled, mixing hot breath and fluid, rising and falling together like two mating snakes.

We stood there kissing, our bodies pressing together, our breaths coming out heavily. It seemed as if eons passed.

Then I felt her hands struggling upward and resting against my chest. They pushed me away gently, yet firmly. For a miniscule second, we stood there, face to face. Then she turned and walked hurriedly away. I stood there spellbound, staring unblinkingly, till she disappeared at the corner of the alley. Then I, too, turned back and started walking.

***********************************

When I returned home I found Bill, sitting on the sofa and listening to music. It was quite late at night but I was not surprised. Bill was more of a night bird who would stay up, listening to music. He was an early riser, too, which often made me wonder how he managed with such a little amount of sleep.

"How did it go, Nell?"

I was a bit embarrassed. Bill asking me about my date was something unique to me. To say the truth, this was the first occasion that such an exchange could take place between us.

"Nothing much...I'm so hungry! I need to eat something first…"

I blabbered out what came to my mind first. It was not a lie, I had been feeling quite ravenous.  

"You go and refresh yourself. Your dinner is ready on the table."

When I came back from the restroom I found Bill sitting at the table and waiting for me.

"Had you been waiting for me? I'm so sorry!"

It was not our custom to wait for each other so that we could have dinner together. We had separate timelines for everything. But today, Bill seemed to have acted otherwise.

Bill only smiled in reply. We sat at the table and ate in silence. It didn't feel awkward as Bill had the habit of rarely speaking at the dining table.

Was he so silent with his dates, too?

Suddenly, I felt curious. I had never seen Bill with any woman other than his sister, nor had Inna ever told me anything about the girls in his life.

Was it possible that such a handsome and successful man could actually be a single dog?

I couldn't help but ask.

"Bill, how about you? You have a girlfriend or not?"

Bill looked up at me. For an instant, I felt as if I saw a flash of light, flickering in his eyes. Then they became cold and piercing again.

"No, I do not."

A curt reply, as always.

But no! He spoke again.

"Must I torment myself too, like Inna? Is love something that good?"

I was dumbfounded. I had never heard Bill speaking with such spite.

Inna! Her death was deeply ingrained in my heart. Yes, I did believe that it was love that had took her life away. She wouldn't have taken to drinking heavily if she hadn't felt insecure about her love.

Yes, it was her love and obsession for Elle that led her away from life. But would it mean that one should turn away from love itself?

I was also surprised to find out how deeply Bill felt about Inna's death. He had yet not been able to accept it.

I couldn't say anything. There was really nothing that I could have said to Bill in this regard.

We finished eating silently and cleaned the table. Then I said goodnight to Bill and went to sleep. But for a long time, a faint ray of light showed under my door, telling me that Bill was still awake and listening to music alone.