Last month, I met someone at Gaysgiving. Amongst the familiar Thanksgiving orphans I love like family, I met H. He was attractive in an unassuming sort of way, glancing at me through black-rimmed glasses and smiling shyly while we spoke. As I got drunker and drunker on spiked eggnog, my attraction became more and more apparent. I started asking H flirtatious questions, like, “When was the last time you were tested” and “Why do you...