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The moment Brandon walked into the coworking space, sunlight catching the dust motes around him like a halo, I knew my quiet, carefully constructed closet was about to explode with the force of a thousand gay suns. We smiled, a shy, nervous acknowledgment across the room thick with the scent of coffee and unspoken desires, a silent promise hanging in the air despite the knowledge that my conservative family would never understand this blossoming connection, this electric pull towards another man within the LGBT community. Every stolen glance felt like a revolution, a small act of rebellion against the life I thought I was supposed to lead, and I knew in that instant that even if it meant risking everything, I had to know him. Years later, I still remember that first meeting with a shiver of longing, a bittersweet memory of a love that bloomed in the most unexpected of places, forever changing the trajectory of my life.