QUEER | tayley

get busy living

The next time my eyes open, all I see is bright, white light. My initial thought is that I must be in the afterlife. Perhaps I made it to heaven, regardless of all my actions that could be viewed as sins.

I blink my squinted eyes several times in order to adjust to the almost blinding brightness. When I adjust to my surroundings, I recognize my location. I'm alone in a hospital room. On my right side is a closed window, and on my left is a blue curtain.

Several tubes are connected to my body and restrict me from moving most of my body. The first thing I notice is that a ventilator is connected to my face. I'm able to look down at my scarred wrists to notice that not only are several IV lines inserted into my arms, but I'm being held down by restraints that connect my wrists to the bed.

I cannot talk nor can I move. As if my body did not already feel like a prison due to my intense dysphoria, I now feel more trapped than ever. I know I'm in the hospital, but I'm surprised when I fully grasp the fact that I didn't die.

My hazel eyes stay wide open as I scan the room for something, anything to give me a clue of what the date is. Through the corner of my eye I notice a figure walk towards me, pushing by the curtain that shields me from whoever else is also staying in the room.

When I focus my eyes on the person, the first thing I notice is who it is. It's my mother, who is wearing the largest smile I have ever seen. She sets down the cup of water that she had been holding on the first piece of furniture that she sees, which happens to be a tiny table that is connected to my bed. As soon as both of her hands are free, she wraps her arms around my body. It's painful, considering all of the tubes that are connected to me. The only action I'm capable of doing is shrugging my shoulders, which luckily captures her attention and causes her to move away from me.

"I'm sorry if that hurt, sweetie. I'm just...we're just so happy that you're here with us. We don't want to have a scare like that ever again," she says with tears trickling down her cheeks, each teardrop meeting my thin bedsheets after dropping from her jaw.

When I look up, I see that my dad, Justin, and Chris are all here. I smile as much as I possibly can with the ventilator restricting my ability to emote.

All three of them are crying. Even my dad, who I was certain felt nothing but anger, is allowing the tears to fall. He walks up to my mom and whispers something into her ear. She looks at him, nods her head, and exits the room with my brothers. I'm left alone with my dad, who takes a seat next to me.

He uses the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt to wipe away his tears.

"I know you can't exactly communicate with me, but..." he trails off, grabbing my hand during the brief silence, "I just want you to know that I love you. I'm sorry for acting so selfishly. I just couldn't exactly comprehend the idea of losing my daughter. Yeah, I know that I would only be gaining one more, incredible son, but I didn't think about it like that. You've gotta understand that I had never met a transgender person before you came out to me. I had no idea how to react, so I reacted poorly. I realize that doing so was not benefiting anyone, but I was so confident that I was doing the right thing. I wasn't. You're my...my son, Taylor. You're probably more of a man than I am," he says with a forced chuckle. "I want to support you in anyway I can. I need to start being a better dad. I don't expect you to forgive me right now, but I hope that you're able to, someday. I wish that it didn't require a suicide attempt for me to realize how essential it was for me to support you. I love you," he chokes out.

By the time he finishes his speech, I've begun crying as well. All I can do, aside from crying, is nod my head. I wish he could have shown support sooner, but it's too late for that. I don't know what's going to come from this, but I just want to be okay.