Troye Sivan's Love Letter to Women (and the Gay Guys Who Love Them)

Matthew broke his zoned-out, screen-scrolling silence with an “Aww.” We sat across from each other on my new kitchen’s counter tops. He came with me to pick up the keys to my new place. My first post-college place. My place on the Silverlake/Hollywood border. My place with no furniture, and nothing in the fridge except a diet coke and a fifth of Tito’s, which we’d walked to pick up from my new…