I think this is another thing that makes her later disregard for that self-actualization sting even more.

There’s a possibility that I wouldn’t have self-actualized without my previous partner around. Not in time, anyways. Without her I might be dead, too. She doesn’t know this. She now never will.

It’s funny to think how it was being queer that prevented clinical depression from killing me. If I were just Some Guy with an underdeveloped sense of self I’d be dead.

I halfway wanna tell her what she did but I also don’t wanna open the door back up to trouble and appear like some crazy ex who can’t move on. Besides, she clearly doesn’t wanna talk ever again and I’d be breaking a boundary.

Yeah sorry I’m not over that relationship. It’s been long enough that I should be but it feels sometimes like a part of myself is missing when the one person who I considered a constant in my life tore me down without even realizing and then left me for my reaction to that.

She doesn’t know about this account. Nobody does. The connections are scattered and sparse and fraught with plausible deniability. She’ll never see these posts. She’ll never need to.

I’m done venting now. You may return to your business.

I don’t know. I’m gonna be a sad bitch for a while. I’m trying not to be bitter, it isn’t good for me. I’m trying to remain balanced and use therapy tactics that I’d have to wait 5 years to get from a professional. 5 years that someone thought was an excuse, didn’t believe. But I digress.

At least I never have to confront her exclusive attraction to men and what that means for how she’s seen me ever since I came out to her? At least I can finally commit to never online dating again because she was the only person worthy of exception to that rule? At least I’m still alive and well?

But nothing, really. It sucks real bad and I hate myself and everyone else right now. But. But.
But at least I get to look at pretty people and swoon again? At least love can be some unattainable promise at the end of the rainbow instead of something spiral diving out of control?

I wish I could’ve stuck to the January thing. But now it’s more of a September thing. “This time for sure” but actually because I don’t know how I fuck this up other than being lazy or something. Bad luck maybe. Idk. We’ll figure it out. We ball.

Anyways sorry for the rant, it will happen again.

Every word, every beat, I felt. All the while it was smut and therefore written with a certain passion that I latched onto.
I think it’s silly to be talking this way about something written one-handed but this IS my alt and I can ramble all I want about being so affected by transgender mech smut.

And to circle BACK to the mech smut, that’s what bothered me about it. That I saw myself as I was in Sartha. That I used to refer to myself as an animal, a “lapdog”, an “it”. That part of me brings no comfort. I’d rather be whole in and of myself. It’s also why I was so drawn in, I think. I felt it.

Not to start musing on myself under a post about mecha smut but a lot of being trans for me is taking myself as who I want to be instead of resigning myself to the projections of how others see me. Who I was before was just that- a hollow shell animated by the wills of others.

I’d have no problem being someone’s princess almost, but I can’t rest until I’ve also been their knight. It doesn’t sit right with me. Besides, given my past I can’t see the whole “giving myself over completely” thing as very comforting.

Thinking harder, I think that it’s the permanence of the relationship dynamic that I didn’t like. Beyond the obviously problematic elements, even when stripped of those I feel the need to be reciprocal I think.

I did get really into the narrative, though. I might need to slam the handler into a concrete cube by the end of it but she’s a “love to hate” type of character. Tags keep warning of bad endings and I keep preparing to have my expectations subverted on what that bad ending will be. I’m never ready.