Back in 2014, my first year at University, I made a friend –my first friend at Rhodes. At the time I didn’t know he was gay, and neither did he know that I was anything but a friend. He was a white man, with short, golden hair that wafted over to one side – kept so by gel. He wore glasses and was scrawny in stature. There was no attraction to each other whatsoever, but as our two bodies became comfortable in a foreign space lurking with millennials, we came into ourselves. As a result, we drifted into our respective degree-stipulated friend groups – aligning with people who shared our similar interests.