Behind these Big Blue Eyes
Ch. 13
The therapist took FOREVER, but it was time well spent. I had to have Hannah leave the room at some point so I could talk more freely to the therapist. It's not that I didn't want her to hear what I had to say, it's just that it's easier to talk to some stranger about your life than it is to talk to someone close to you, someone you don't want to lose. At least that's what it's like for me. Even though Hannah and I have had similar conversations, I just... I dunno. I didn't want her to feel offended, it's just that I didn't want her to... to rethink our relationship from what I said. Not that what I said said anything bad about her and our relationship. Ah, fuck it. I'm done trying to explain. Fourth wall broken.
Anyway, Hannah and I were on our way home...
"So? Did it go well?" Hannah asked.
"Yeah. It was fine. He's actually a pretty cool person, but since he is a gender therapist it doesn't surprise me that he knew what I was talking about. I might be getting that T letter faster than I thought, heheh," I replied, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"Well, good. I'm glad you're happy," she stated, resting her hand on my thigh and causing me to smile.
"Yeah. This is like the time when I won my first proper chest binder from that guy on Tumblr... His URL was... Uhh... 'hisnameiscaptainjack', right? Yep, that was it. That made my year, I tell ya." I chuckled as I stopped at a red light and looked over at her.
"But what makes me the happiest is knowing I've got such a beautiful girl to go home to," I said, then leaned in and gave her a kiss. She kissed back with a giggle.
She pulled away as the light turned green. "And I've got the sexiest, strongest man who loves me and takes care of me," she retorted, squeezing my thigh in reassurance.
I grinned and sighed in happiness, turning onto another road. Today is turning out to be an awesome day.
As I drove, I began to get lost in thought. Once I get my T letter and start taking T, I'll get facial hair, and fat redistribution, and body hair, and muscles - ooh! I can't wait! I know that making the choice to go on T means that I'll have to take that shot every two weeks for the rest of my life, but I don't care. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Five minutes of my time every two weeks to inject myself with male hormones? Not a bad trade-off for being one with my mind and my body. Finally, I won't have to force myself out of bed every day. My depression will go away, and along with it, my suicidal thoughts. I'll look like Felix, who I've always been on the inside. My dysphoria will numb itself for a while with all the distraction that T will keep me busy with. I might get more chest dysphoria, but I've been saving for top surgery, and after I've been on T for about a year and a half I'll make a date to get these fucking growths off my chest. I won't have to bind anymore. I won't have to avoid looking in the mirror anymore. I won't have to close my eyes while I'm taking a shower anymore. The constant reminder of my chest will go away. The voice in my head that makes fun of me and reminds me of my femininity will finally shut up. It'll all stop. Then comes bottom surgery. I'm not sure what exactly I'm all getting... But I know that when I do get it and I get all healed up, I'll finally be the man I am on the inside. I can give Hannah my everything. I can be a real boy. I can be a real boy. I'll finally be a real boy. A real boy, a real boy...
"Felix? What's wrong?" Hannah asked, bringing me back to reality. "Why're you crying?"
It was when I reached up to touch my face that I realized tears were rolling down my cheeks. I wiped them away and took in a deep breath through my nose.
"Nothing, I'm fine. It's just, everything's falling into place. I don't have my dad to hold me back anymore. He didn't know how it felt to live through that hell through high school. I almost gave up. Did you know that seventy-one percent of trans* people attempt or commit suicide? I almost became one of those people. I almost became another number. And it was all because he didn't try to understand. It was as if he thought I was going through a phase. But only the child knows deep in their being that they are the wrong gender. Dad said he knew he was an asshole. If you realize that, shouldn't you make the effort to /not/ be that person? He said he didn't care, that he was proud of it, even. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that what makes the man is his manners. Look how you want, act how you want, but every man should have respect for others and have some manners. Look at me. I've got facial piercings and the beginnings of a sleeve on my arm. But I know how to act, to other people and to my fiancé. I used to look up to him. I thought he was the best. Then I grew older and realized who I was, and who he was. You know, one time he was yelling at me and my brothers and sister and he told us that he firmly believed that people should apologize to him for everything, because he worked two jobs at the time. He became an asshole and a douche. He had no reason to complain about either of his jobs. He always bragged about how good he was at one job, and the other job was something he liked to do, plus his friends worked with him! The only thing he had to complain about was that his cooking job had a boss that never paid them on time and didn't care about his employees. That was the only thing! I couldn't believe it. The man that I thought was the best at everything, was a douchebag. My world kinda concaved after that. My mom was a good person to fall back on, but she had a tendency to force her opinion onto me during a conversation. She didn't do it all the time, just sometimes. But when she did do it, it hurt a lot, because it felt like I was being betrayed by someone that I trusted with my feelings. So I clung heavily to you. I still do, and sometimes I feel like you're going to leave because of how much I seek emotional support from you. I cling onto you so desperately, because you give me exactly the kind of emotional care that I've lacked from my real mother, and from anyone, really. I'm sorry that I do that. I can't help it. I just-"
"Felix!" Hannah yelled, cutting me off. I looked over at her through my tears. We were home. I hadn't realized.
She reached up and grabbed my face, wiping away the new tears.
"Listen to me. All of that is over now. You are Felix. You never were her. You were always he. The only difference is now you can actually show it. I've always seen you for who you are. Even with that long hair I saw that tortured, black-haired boy. I've always seen Felix, the boy forced to have curly blonde hair, the boy who fought for his identity, the boy who came out of his shell and is the best man a man can be. Do you hear me?" she asked.
I nodded slowly, a smile creeping onto my face. Hannah smiled reassuringly at me and kissed both my cheeks, then my lips.
"Now let's go inside. I'm hungry, and you're cooking!" she laughed, then got out of the car.
I chuckled and got out behind her, my smile fading as the voice in my head started up again. Suddenly, Hannah slapped me across the face.
"Ow!" I yelped. "What was-"
"Stop it," she said. "I can see that you're thinking something bad. So stop it. You're a man. You've always been a man. Nothing else. You're the sexiest, most handsome man ever! And don't even say you aren't, because you are!"
I smiled again. "Thanks, babe. You always know how to make me feel better." I unlocked the door to our small apartment and let Hannah in first, then I wandered in behind her.
Korra jumped up off the couch and galloped over to us, her tail wagging in greeting. The TV was on, playing a show called Bad Dog!
I chuckled and pet her happily and gave her a kiss on the head, Hannah doing the same.
"Alright," I said, turning towards Hannah, "what do you want to eat?"
