leave me be, inside out.

cw/tw. there is heavy implications of suicide, death, homophobia, transphobia, and bits and pieces of more. read carefully, stay safe :)

"you make me want to kill myself." she said to me, crying.

i didn't know what to say. my heart had felt like it had dropped from chest to the core of the earth. i didnt know how to express my pain too. i wanted to kill myself at that time too.

it was my fault. it was always my fault.

i like to think (to believe) that my mother loved (loves) me. but i know the truth, and i always will. she will always love me. i was her first daughter (son) after all. she'll love me till death does us part; but she will never like me. she wont adore me, she wont caress me, she wont hug me, kiss me, talk to me, look at me- like she likes me. ill never be her favorite. i will only be remembered as her 'first'.

i wonder if she thinks of me late at night. laying awake, aware of my sins (i want to feel belonged).

does she look at me the same as when i was 12? when i was 11? when i was 10? i dont think so. i tainted the way she loves me. she tainted the way i love her.

i wonder, sometimes, if i could be normal. if i can really go out the same as how i came in. i dont think i could. id probably commit suicide if i had to live that way (if i have to live this way any longer). i wish i was normal. that i could be what my mother wishes i was. i cant escape her grasp on me. i feel guilty with her. i feel like her hands are around my neck and shes pinning me to the wall. like im drowning under water, and for the life of me, i cant swim up (i dont want to). i wish i could be what she wanted; what she imagined. but i cant be that. i cant do that. i couldnt live that way.

'why cant she love me?' i would ask myself, every morning, every evening, at every meal-during everything. just why cant she love me for being myself? isnt that what matters? that i love myself? that i like myself? she likes to say that i hate myself because i am a transgender. fact is, i hate myself less. i want to feel like im whole, and when i am referred this way, spoke to, addressed to, identified this way; im whole. im one, im joined.

i struggled a lot sophomore year of highschool. covid 'ended' and i went back to 'face to face' school after being boxed at home for a year (2 years). i had a boyfriend. he saw me the way i wanted to be seen. i was seen the way i wanted (needed) to be seen. he loved me for me. he made me whole when i was nothing but a few puzzle pieces. he was the missing piece (corny). he was perfect to me, despite him fighting his own troubles.

he never did anything wrong to me. he was respectful, kind, caring, compassionate. he was so... basic, almost. hed often call me crying late at night when he knew i was out waiting for another bus. hed sob into the phone, his voice broken from crying so much. when i get to him, he makes me take him in my arms. hed cry to me saying he doesnt want to die, but wishes he could just end it. i would cry with him.