Love? F*** it

It’s bizarre, but these days I have become particularly aware that I won’t be able to ‘fall’ in love quite the same way again. Maybe it’s the influence of spring that makes me notice couples everywhere – or just the fact that there’s no one for me to hold hands with while walking down the street.

It is strange; part of me craves the excitement of meeting someone I want to impress, but I don’t think I romanticize it quite as I used to. I suppose being transgender means I set myself up for solitude, or well…at least, a prolonged period of figuring out how to tell people and how to trust people with this information. Even those with the best intentions end up passing on the fact that my gender identity is different to my biological sex; admittedly, I find it peculiar whenever I find someone who already “knows”, because they are a friend of a friend.

How exactly do people start that conversation? Can’t exactly be a casual ‘bomb’ to drop on people, I guess.

“Yeah, you know Eric… he’s transgender.”

Nah, I don’t think that’s how it happens.

But then, how am I supposed to tell people? I guess I am more ‘myself’ with people who already know, but I think it’s just cause I don’t have to breach that topic with them. Then again, in situations where I’ve had to explain it (although I haven’t yet had to explain it to someone who doesn’t know what it means to be transgender), people seem to have taken it well. And we just have a quick Q&A and move on. I don’t mind being asked questions; just because I don’t argue or yell, doesn’t mean  I consent to answering questions I find personal. And even then, I find I don’t have the same ‘triggers’ as other people (well… not many that overlap, I guess).

Anyway, what was I talking about?

Ah yes, the joy of romance.

Meh. That’s what it has come to. I don’t feel able to engage with anyone on a particularly emotional or physical level.

What’s more, my luck with asking people out on dates is really bad. Well, that’s not properly phrased; it’s not like they laugh at me and say “haha…no”. Thus far, whenever I have asked a lady out, it has ended up being “just hanging out” – apparently I am too subtle and must make it more obvious.

This is fascinating to me. It is very likely people I have been interested in are just not interested in me and hence don’t see it as a ‘date’. I don’t think it is a matter of intent; in my experience, when a girl has been asked out “for a drink” or “to catch a coffee” by friends of mine, it has become a date. Maybe I’m not giving off the right “signals”?

Either way, I don’t think I can tumble into something quite the same way as before. Oh, I’ll still think about a lady I meet in that way, and express my sincerest appreciation of her awesomeness (usually by going “you’re awesome”) but somehow I just don’t really seem to care much about it. Or well… I care about my lack of interest rather than my lack of a partner; it strikes me rather as a point of intellectual intrigue and interest rather than the idea that “I have a problem because I don’t ‘have me a woman’ “. I dunno.

Maybe I’m just rationalising the whole thing too much.

I suppose the solitude only really gets to me when I see other friends or acquaintances who are in a couple (or two, or three.. poly peeps are fascinating!). Even then, I wouldn’t explicitly stop hanging out with my best friend cause she’s in a relationship. Meh indeed.

Ah, f*** it. I just want to write. Problem is, in fiction at least, I end up write about what I know. And I don’t really know anyone that no one wants to be someone’s muse or inspiration. No one wants to be a character in someone else’s story, so I don’t really blame them.

So… f*** it.





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