I guess it is hardly surprising,

That even with my retentive memory,

I forget the exact details,

For this was years ago,

When I was eighteen in fact,

And now at twenty five,

Am I casting my mind back.


Reluctantly did I disclose,

Some of the details to my aunt,

Yet held much back,

Out of loyalty,

To my dad and stepfamily.


I must admit, I still recall,

My aunt's judgementalism,

The way she initially blamed it,

On my love for Hillary.

This I truthfully denied,

Yet she had no need,

To claim I was distorted,

To ask how I knew,

What sexuality I was,

When I had never had a relationship.


Two phrases I still recall,

Her words cutting into me,

"How the hell do you know that?"

In response to,

My asexuality and love for women,

Of all things,

And the other phrase,

"Be honest for once in your life".


Reluctantly did I,

Go out with them after all,

Yet I had my revenge,

By mentally imagining,

My aunt in Aunt Purjava's sari,

Inwardly smiling,

For in my mind's eye,

Did she look ridiculous in it.


I later lied,

When asked if I felt better,

If anything,

Going out with them felt worse,

Secretly did I count the days,

For my return home.

The End

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