Thinkin about my pre transition self rn.
I existed as such a vortex of misery to anyone I got close to. The second I trusted someone enough, I was an absolute tar pit of a person. Everyone I only kind of knew thought I was a delight, a little awkward, but fun!
But those I cared about only ever saw the worst side of me. Raging, sobbing inconsolably, rejecting any kindness or affection offered - or worse, spitting it right back in their face. Accusatory and berating, looking back, it felt like I only existed as a chasm of pain that begged people to throw their kindness into, just to receive nothing in return.
This wasn’t the case all the time, of course. There was a reason the people who cared for me did what they could to help. But near the end, there was no one left to throw kindness into the bottomless pit that was my existence.
I think that old version of me died sad, and alone. Nobody to blame but myself, really. Now I’m here to pick up the pieces, though. I’m happy I get to do that, I’m happy I get fix what broke before, and what I can’t fix, I can make anew.
But. Sometimes I really wish there wasn’t so many broken pieces yk. Sometimes I wish that I had caught my relationships before they shattered, “just in the nick o’ time!” I’d say, wiping the sweat off my brow and setting them back on the pedestals they deserve.
But I wasn’t quick enough, or I watched them fall, or I pushed them myself. It doesn’t matter, by any means they are now broken, shattered on the ground in a million impossible puzzle pieces.
I will rebuild my life, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say that I’m overjoyed that I get to live now, and live better. Make it all right, you know? But I’d be lying if I said a part of me doesn’t resent the fire I was born from, and the tower that collapsed to make me.