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
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 had fallen in the same trap twice
And then I knew
Oops I did it again. I fucking did it twice.
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.