You open your eyes to the dim breaking of dawn over the horizon out your window. It’s early, really early.
You yawn with a smile. You’re getting married today to your high school sweetheart, Simon Fredrick.
Coming out as gay in your small town didn’t go as horribly as you’d expected. You two were treated as just another couple. You though about his toned swimmer’s body. His long, luscious hair… his soft, pouting lips… suddenly you pause for a second… you feel akward realizing you must have been thinking of someone other than your boyfriend of nearly a decade.
Your train of thought is derailed even further when the door to you room opens and someone walks in.
“Good morning dear!” Your father says with a smile.
Your eyes go massively wide. He’s wearing a bright pink night gown and three inch heeled slippers. You recognize he’s your dad, Henry, but other than that, everything about him seems different. He’s carrying a tray.
“Family tradition… the bride gets breakfast in bed on his wedding day.”
It’s at this point, you notice instead of a tuxedo hanging on your closet door… there is a wedding gown on a stand.
Slowly the memory of picking it out with your dad and older brothers seeps into your head.
You pick up your phone off the table and look at the picture on the lock screen . It’s still you and Simon, but you’re wearing dresses, have long hair and seem otherwise feminine.
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