Six years of friendship, all gone. Six years of smiles, laughs, and happiness. Six fucking years, all gone because I became trans. All because you didn’t want to be friends with the trans kid.
When I came out to you, we were in my room. I simply said, “Can you call me Max from now on? And can you use he/him pronouns?” Well Emma, the look on your face killed me. You looked like you had just saw someone dying. I waited for a response, and all you said was, “But you’re a girl.”
Do you know how much that killed me? You ripped my heart out and threw it on the floor. I asked you to leave, you didn’t understand. I asked you to leave again, you slapped me and called me faggot.
I haven’t seen you since. The year you left was hard for me. I kept seeing you in the halls and missing you. I kept remembering the good times we had. I kept remembering our platonic love.
Now here I am, 4 years later. 2 years on testosterone with a chest surgery. I saw you a week ago, you didn’t know it was me. I walked up to you and started talking. You asked for my name, I thought you knew it was me. I looked into your eyes and simply said “It’s Max.” You remembered.