I feel it’s about time that y’all heard a bit more about my
dear fiancé. For both our sakes, I’ll refer to her as Moony. My Moony. This is
likely to get sappy, so this is your fair warning.
The time has come, mostly because she just demanded I write
a post and include her, but also because I realised I have some important shit
to go through here.
First off, we’re both incredibly reliant on each other. Many
might see this as a bad thing, that I depend on somebody else to such a degree,
as she does too, but I find it comforting. I like the fact that I have somebody
that I trust more than I trust myself – strange but true – and that trusts me
entirely.
Sure, we both have our own battles to fight, but that’s what
makes us stronger. Moony suffers from anxiety disorder, though we can’t quite
pin down whether it is general anxiety or social, but it’s likely a mix of the
two. The anti-depressants backfired at first, as they do for everyone, and the
first few weeks were incredibly difficult. Work, school, life in general
becomes nearly impossible for those that suffer anxiety, and I never realised
just how tricky it can be.
I admit that a few times I genuinely feared for her life,
and was scared every time I got a text, scared to delete them when my phone
became full, in case it was the last I’d receive. Saying goodnight could be the
last time we spoke, and it made me appreciate how much we have, how lucky we
are that we really found each other, in the middle of London on a crowded
pavement. (Literally, since we were sat on the concrete and I saved her spot.)
I also learnt depression is no laughing matter and I will floor anybody who
claims to have it and is just a bit upset about something. There’s nothing
quite like first hand experience, even from the outside, to really show you how
serious something is.
But here’s the thing. She got through it. Not completely
yet, sure, but enough that I feel the familiar rush of affection and quiet
appreciation I always get whenever I see a text now.
If anyone has somehow missed it, my partner lives in Sweden.
This makes it difficult when either of us are going through hard times or
having to put up with something and the other can’t actually reach out and
comfort. But we’ve got used to calling on Skype, or video chatting when we feel
up to it and our connection isn’t bad.
My dysphoria goes away when Moony is around, and everything
is instantly easier. I can work properly with her motivation, feel safe in a
house I am trapped within. I would never have even admitted to myself that
I’m trans* without her encouragement, or have a therapist, a name, friends who
support me. I lost my closeness with my family, but I gained a proper family,
one I chose and trust entirely.
My schoolwork, family trouble and transition all become too
much sometimes, and I suffer stress-induced headaches fairly often – near daily
– but I have Moony to make sure I’m alright, tell me I’m loved.
Against all odds, not even the ocean has kept us apart. She
visited in February, and December before, and I’m due to fly out alone for the
first time, first trip since last January, when we were barely off the ground,
on April 3rd.
I can’t wait.
Everything is so much simpler with Moony at my side, making
everything manageable simply by the way she smiles, or drinks tea quite loudly,
complains about losing the snuff she had just a moment ago, honestly, or
breathes.
This is rather turning into an appreciation post, which is
what it was always going to be, I know.
There are good days and bad days for us both, but knowing
we’re both going to meet up on Skype at the end of it, as we do every single
day, and being able to sit in companionable silence, even through the internet,
but knowing the other is there, if needed, is amazing.
I guess where I’m trying to go with this, really, is to show
that love isn’t that difficult to find, you just have to be willing to let it
go where it takes you. It’s stressful, and wonderful and terrifying all at
once, but you find you can’t imagine life before that person was a part of it, have
no idea how you managed and find yourself fitting them into memories.
I love you, Moony, and you are perfect to me.
 | |||
| London, Soho. The shop is for yoghurts. The man was a happy accident. We love you, man. |
