I Transitioned, She Didn’t.

I’m sure that she was waiting for her

Love poem, and well,

This is it folks.

We met when we were kids and

I never forgot her laugh. She was like

A bubble of champagne with an intense


We laughed and we loved and we mingled

For many years, until

The little jabs became routine

And the pain became blistering.

Misunderstandings became commonplace.

To the point where I started to wonder

Who I ever started dating in the first place.

My goals, my dreams

I would say things, she would

Hate them. Discourage me. Now I wonder if

All of it wasn’t just a desperate plea

For me to leave. Someone she didn’t want

In her life as a husband. Someone

She could never treat as a him.

I transitioned and she didn’t.

She was there, riding along

Never fully present.

She hated all of my decisions

When life gave me lemons she just got

Bitter about it.

I felt crushed

I felt despondent.

I am not okay I think.

Nine years of bullshit and incompatibility

So much I feel was wasted

So much potential down the toilet.

As shitty as it is I think I’m the culprit

I didn’t have the self esteem I needed

But when I heard her family

Talk about me

On speaker

When she thought I wasn’t in the fucking room

Because she didn’t even fucking acknowledge my physical presence

That’s how bad it got.

I knew

I knew I had fallen in the same trap twice

And then I knew

Oops I did it again. I fucking did it twice.

Jesus Christ.

Moral of the story is it’s

Much harder than I imagined

Being transgender. It’s the sort of thing

You can’t plan for.

Anyway, I’ve been so busy

Being angry at her crazy whore behavior

But I’m not shocked, she’s done it before. This is how she grieves.

I’m just so relieved I don’t have to deal with her anymore

I’m also just already horrified about the next one.

Anyway, this is her love poem.

God help the next fella.

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