Even though we were both born female, you somehow always treated me as the male I always knew I was. We grew up together in a country where individuality and honest self-expression are punishable by death, but somehow you stuck with me. With passionate words spoken beneath our breaths, our love grew in the shadows of those hallways and behind the closed doors of our high school laboratories.
Before I moved to the US, I gave you a ring, asking you to wait for me, in the hopes that you would someday be my wife. I left your house that night in August thinking that I would come back when I could, when I was stronger, when I had established myself, to take you away from the life you had been living.
5 years passed and though we were roughly 12,000 km apart for the entire time, we kept in contact for a good portion of it. Sometimes the contact consisted of reminiscing about the highest points of our love and other times, it consisted of absurd and hurtful accusations of lovelessness and dying hope. We eventually grew bitter towards each other and lost contact.
I did come back though, in 2013, but I was not ready to be loved. I had seen you only a handful of times when I moved back. Each time I navigated the streets leading to your home, the same home I had left you August of 2009, my heart would pound past my chest and into the windshield, cracking the view as I drive up to your door.
We kissed when we met, and you had tears in your eyes. I didn’t expect that I would have missed you that much. In fact, I’m sure you never expected it either, since our relationship had always been one of rage and love. I was hurtful and insensitive. I hurt you with my robotic and cold responses to your pleads of affection and attention, but I hope so badly that you know I never meant it. It did not come out of any kind of dislike towards you, it never could have. It seems I am only capable of hurting those I care mostly about, as those who have no meaning to me do not even get a response, or occupy even a fraction of my mental energy.
You, however, have always been and always will be on my mind, despite the frost in my words.
I will attempt to explain to you my actions, though I hope you know this is not justification in any way, but merely an apology and a chance to come clean. When you lead me into your room the day that I visited, I found myself recreating a scene from the countless dreams I have had about you all those ago. As we writhed together above your sheets, I felt my insides move in a way that I had not felt since August of 2009.
You tasted sweet and smelled like summer fruit. I kissed you deeply and you arched your back. I was lost in you, and at once I forgot that I had been living a lie my entire life. I traced a path with my lips down your neck and to your chest. We had never gotten this far before, despite our history. It was all a blur of lust until your hand grasped my breast. A part of my body that I had tried so hard to believe did not exist, along with many other feminine aspects of my birth body.
The illusion had fallen away, and I had been reminded of my condition. I flinch back and remember that I have not changed. I have no established the true me, and I was not at all ready to accept a relationship with you when I had no relationship with myself and my own identity.
And so I retreated, and move yet again, this time to focus on my identity entirely, since now I knew what my goal was and the truth behind the blizzard in my heart. Though in doing this, I delved into a part of myself that made it all the more difficult to keep in contact with you. I isolated myself and tried to come to terms with the person I was born to be and the steps I would need to take in order to get to him.
During this process depression took a hold of me, and at the worst possible time, because you had just moved to an area not far from where I hid. You asked me multiple times to come visit you. I knew you were excited to finally be in an area where we could freely be ourselves, outside of the judgmental society we grew up in, and please understand that I was excited as well.
I could not see you thought, I could not go through that again. I was not myself; I was not yet the man I wanted to be for you. Though I could have eased this trouble on your heart by explaining to you that this what I was struggling with, but I hid in order to heal and I am ashamed.
During your stay in this country, I had spent quite a lot of time in hospital. I had been so ashamed and distraught by my situation and what I was doing to you, again, that I took a walk one night and stepped into oncoming traffic. The next day I was evaluated and checked into a psychiatric hospital for the suicidal. I was heavily drugged during my time there, so a good portion of my time there is blurry when I try to think about it, but I did finally make it out, after days of therapy and constant surveillance.
I was not allowed to use any form of communication during my stay there, except for personal visits that my family would try to make daily. I want you to know that I thought of you constantly and spoke about you to the countless specialists that visited me on an hourly basis.
By the time I had gotten out, and recovered from my attempt, you were gone. You had left the country, and I had broken your heart once again.
I tried to put the heartache I had caused you out of my mind as I forged my way forth through my transition. I started down the right track, and I had finally got my top surgery consultation appointment. In fact, on February 12th I will officially begin testosterone treatment.
I know that I hurt you, and as you said, nothing I can say will change the fact that I missed what seems like our only opportunity to be together, for however short of a time that might have been.
You say that we will never see each other again, and I hope you’re right, because when I succeeded, you will never see this version of me again.
As for if we will end up together, everything points to the negative, and that’s okay. All I want is for you to be happy, and if that means you must forget my existence, then so be it.