I suppose this poem deserves a short explanation.
I've always heard that being gay isn't a choice, that it's the way I am. But I don't think it's completely predetermined. I chose to go with my instincts and love women. I chose to notice breasts and curves. I didn't choose to keep looking at guys, hoping one would come along that was good enough. I chose to follow my heart.
Like I read somewhere, once, "It's the difference between being dragged into the Colosseum, and walking into the arena proudly, with your head held high."