One might even call him dreamy. It was a match made in heaven. Or it could’ve been, until he ghosted me. - Jacob Tobia

You could say that I am desperate — because I am. In a world that both desexualizes and hypersexualizes transfeminine people and treats us like street garbage, I am desperate to find companionship and touch.

It’s not like my standards are that high to begin with. As someone who has spent the greater part of a decade being sexually neglected because I don’t perform gender properly, my standards are comically low. You don’t have to be talented to get in my pants. You don’t have to be charming or funny or witty or able to make great conversation to make me fall for you. You don’t have to have a well-furnished apartment or a beautiful house in order to take me home. Just tell me that you don’t believe in the , let me know that you want to put it in, and I am pretty much yours.

Even the most enlightened boys can turn into ghosts.