I dig down deeper, and you fall so much faster.

Today isn't how I expected to spend my Saturday 13th of July.

I'm not in Bournemouth. I couldn't sleep all night, I'm still exhausted. I kept waking and thinking it had to be late, but by the time I gave up it was only 9:17, the time I would have been in Bournemouth to meet Jake. Or, the time me, Jake and Moony would have been there to meet the group.

I spent a few hours in my room, trying to ignore everything, and found that when I laugh, it hurts.

Let me tell you a short story.

A while ago, my phone died for three days due to the influx of texts it kept getting, and I couldn't get a new one, or get to a reliable internet source. It broke me, I was a complete mess. My parents told me to shut up, to sort myself out because it's not like me and Moony are married or anything.

We don't talk about those three days, because they were the darkest days of my life. I don't remember much past complete pain, sending packed e-mails of my day each day to Moony through school.

But it was horrible. This is what it feels like. Did you know you can actually die of a broken heart? It can cause the heart to malfunction until you die because your beloved died.

I wouldn't believe it unless I was experiencing it.

But my best friend demanded I stay at his for the night, to get me out of the triggering environment. And if that isn't one of the most amazing things anyone has done for me, I dunno what is. We're just watching films, having a Karl Urban marathon, and a Marvel marathon. His mum is fantastic.

Me and Moony sorted out our sort-of argument. We were both emotionally compromised yesterday and said stuff we shouldn't have. It's alright though, because we know we'll never stop loving each other, and that's enough to get us through anything.

But now she's gone to have a drink with some friends, and I'm gonna watch DOOM, because it's a completely amazing film that is like watching back my childhood (because I played it a lot, not because I ran around killing aliens as an eight year old.) We're nearly one day closer, one day through the sudden hell we didn't expect ourselves to be in.


And if this posts seemed more disjointed than usual because my other posts are so very well structured then you can blame Tony Stark and his PTSD.

I'm not o-fucking-kay.

Moony's flight screwed up.

She had to be sent home.

She won't be here until Monday night.

When I found out, I felt so sick I nearly ran to the bathroom, and it has only recently gone away to be replaced by the crippling agony of devastation.

I left my bedroom this morning with my only concern being that we'd be on the streets tonight. To be honest, I was prepared for it. I've always wondered what it would be like, and while it wasn't ideal, we'd be together. I hadn't anticipated that there might be a problem with the plane.

It seems like a plane caught fire in Heathrow, so the Gothenburg flight had to be redirected. Once they'd landed on Swedish soil again, Heathrow was open. Fucking typical.

I feel disconnected. I don't understand why this had to happen to us now. I'm devastated. My friend, who's dad was kind enough to offer us lodgings, tried to cheer me up, but it's difficult when right now, I should be waiting for Moony. I can't breathe properly, I've got a headache, I'm constantly close to breaking down.

And now I have the dilemma of Pride.

I'm torn. I don't want to go because Moony isn't there, and I don't want to upset her by going. Well, I already have by saying I want to. But here's the thing.

Being at home is like being in prison. I get triggered daily, I can't be myself, I get verbally abused and nobody seems to have any respect for what I want. But I want to be in Bournemouth tomorrow.

Pride is like being at group, where everyone understands, everyone sympathises. But on a wider scale. The atmosphere is brilliant, and even if I can't be happy, I can appreciate everyone else being happy.

I have to kill this weekend somehow and moping around at home isn't going to do any favours. I'm going to spend it hating myself and the universe in general.

I spend so much of my life not doing something because I hate confrontation and change. I've filled out the name changing forms about 20 times now and I never go through with it because I'm scared of what my family will say to me. I never correct my family for naming or gendering me wrong because I know they don't want to hear it and won't try to get it.

I don't want this to be another one of those things that I could have gone to, something I could have felt a little more normal at, but I passed it up. Hell, I fought to get to London on November 2nd 2011, and I met the person I'm spending my life with.

But I don't want Moony to think this is more important than her, because it fucking isn't. But... I don't know what else to do. I can't be here, though, having to handle my mum saying 'it's just a few days, why the hell are you so upset?' like she already called me to do while I was nearly breaking down on the train home.

I can't handle it. I need to get out some energy.

I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry I'm not going to be here tomorrow. I'm sorry I upset you. I'm sorry about this entire thing and I'm sorry I'm too weak to not go. But this situation, it almost feels like I have even more reason. I need to be reminded that it's alright, and there is still actual hope in the world for people like us. I'm a tosser, I know, but in the evening I'll be back, and we can write, and it'll be one day closer. Again.

I just hope this doesn't become another thing I look back on and hate myself for. Please. Forgive me.

50 Fun Questions To Break Up The School Angst

• 1. Did you wake up cranky? No, I rarely do.
• 2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now? God, yes.
• 3. Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys? Guys.
• 4. Would you ever smile at a stranger? It's instinctive. So, yes.
• 5. Can you commit to one person? Absolutely.
• 6. How do you look right now? British. I was Castiel earlier.
• 7. What exactly are you wearing right now? Power Ranger socks, blue chinos and an oversized tee with the Union Jack on it.
• 8. How often do you listen to music? Daily.
• 9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? Jeans.
• 10. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2014? I hope so.
• 11. Are you a social or an antisocial person? Both. But normally antisocial when I get a choice.
• 12. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say? Hopefully I'll never fine out.
• 13. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Sometimes.
• 14. Can you drive a stick shift? Noooo.
• 15. Do you care if people talk badly about you? Yes.
• 16. Are you going out of town soon? In the summer for local Pride and then to visit Moony.
• 17. When was the last time you cried? About an hour or two ago for Supernatural.
• 18. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? Yes.
• 19. If you could change your eye color, would you? No. Maybe a blue.
• 20. Name something you have to do tomorrow? Go to Sixth Form.
• 21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having. I thought I saw a UFO and it really scared me, but it was just an army helicopter, so it was okay. That wasn't cool for a moment.
• 22. Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex? Yes.
• 23. Are you nice to everyone? No. Well, I try.
• 24. What are you sitting on right now? My desk chair.
• 25. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat? Obvisly.
• 26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? Yes.
• 27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? My lovely partner.
• 28. Do you get a lot of colds? No, but I get a lost of stress-induced headaches.
• 29. Have your pants ever fallen down in public? God, no.
• 30. Does anyone hate you? Probably, somewhere.
• 31. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? Yes.
• 32. Do you like watching scary movies? Yes.
• 33. Are you a jealous person? Not really, no.
• 34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be? I'd say my third year of life or something. I don't remember a lot so it probably wasn't important.
• 35. Did you have a dream last night? I don't think so.
• 36. Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to? Yes.
• 37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? I hope so. Possibly.
• 38. Do you think someone has feelings for you? Yes.
• 39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? Yes.
• 40. Did you have a good day yesterday? Yes, actually. Well, school sucked, but I hung out at my mate's afterwards, which was totally awesome. Thanks for asking.
• 41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship? Yes.
• 42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago? No, not at all.
• 43. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? Kissing.
• 44. What’s the best part about school? Inspiring teachers and good friends.
• 45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook? No, I don't have facebook.
• 46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school? Yes.
• 47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head? All the time.
• 48. Were you single over the last summer? Really not.
• 49. What are you supposed to be doing right now? Tumbling Studying.
• 50. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive? Incredibly so. More than anything.
  
  And here's a corresponding set of different answers from Moony for y'all. 

On Families And Thoughts Regarding Them

As stated in the title part of this blog, these thoughts are my own, so I can only draw on my own experiences.

I write from a National Express coach on a return journey from Gothenburg, Sweden, where I spent the most part of my two week holiday with Moony. I have to go back to school tomorrow, but that isn’t something I want to be thinking about right now.

The time I spent in Gothenburg was the best succession of days I’ve ever experienced. Every single day was perfect and I wouldn’t have changed anything except for longer days and more time.

But it taught me something about how different my family is, and I know I prefer my parents-in-law to the ones I’m related to, however sad that may be.

Moony lives in a flat with her parents and shares a room with her younger brother by three years, whenever he isn’t staying at his school up North. The space isn’t plentiful, but the atmosphere is lovely.

The kitchen is big enough to dance in, as we discovered, and the views are magnificent given how beautiful the old architecture is. The bath is also a Jacuzzi and comfortably fits two people, and the shower is powerful but nice. There is mood lighting in the bedrooms and bathroom at least, a balcony that’s slightly higher than surrounding buildings, and a constant feeling that you’re incredibly safe and able to be yourself, no matter what that may entail.

But that’s just the space itself. The family is even better. Moony’s brother is adorable, and I want to protect him all the time, even though he’s older and taller than me. He’s really kind and funny, and spent time with us yesterday singing a duet of Whole New World from Aladdin with Moony, even though he had work to be doing. He chose to come and lay on our bed and talk to us, and genuinely seemed like he liked being there.

Moony’s parents work odd shifts, so they’re not around in the day, but they are on weekends. Her dad is incredibly camp, to the point of taking dance aerobic classes, and his voice is kind of high, but he’s one of those people that you feel calm around, like they all are. Sure, he has his bad sides, but he also has considerate sides. He hung out with us when we watched the latest Doctor Who last night, and looked upset when we went to be and left him in the living room.

And that’s not to forget Moony’s mum, who told me I’m always welcome with them, and told me I’m family now. We hung out a bit when Moony had an exam on Friday, and she helped me work out what to do with the flowers I’d spent that last of my money on.

Everybody gets on with everyone else, and they’re always in shared space that anybody can get to, to talk. It made me see how different my house is. My mum stays in the living room, sure, but everyone else is in their room all the time. I only emerge for food or tea, dad doesn’t even do that since he has a kettle in his room.

It’s tragic, and horrible, but I just don’t want to spend time with them that much. I become stressed and dysphoric, and forced to discuss things I don’t want to.

I was told fairly recently that I had to spend at least an hour most evenings downstairs so my parents can see me more, but my final exams are next month, and I’m terrified that I won’t get what I need to attend the University that gets me away from here, so I really need to stop being scared about it and start doing revision seriously, but I can’t do any of that downstairs with the TV on and everybody talking.

I feel like my life-related struggles may become a post of it’s own, so I’ll leave that there.

But here’s what I believe it comes down to. Some people are lucky enough to have a family dynamic that works very well, like Hermione Granger, the Weasleys, Harry (if his parents weren’t killed), but then there are families like the Malfoys, who just don’t really have the loving air that the others do. Or the Blacks, and how Sirius felt about them, how he ended up not living with them at all.

Be that as it may, we still have the ability to create the family we love and are loved by. You love your family sometimes because you’re forced to rather than genuine feelings, but non-blood family is something that grows and is chosen with care.

For instance, I consider my friend in America, Ivan, to be like my big brother, the one I can share sex-stories with (and other things of course) and go to for advice about things, and there’s a family friend who’s like a brother or cousin to me, who shows me really cool things.

I have a mate in Reading who is like a sister, and although we’ve never met, Mark Gatiss is like that cool Uncle that you hang out with on bank holidays and watch films with.

And then there’s my main family, Moony’s family.

And that’s how it works. It’s not foolproof, it’s not entirely coherent or anything that really counts, but family isn’t always about who you’re born into relations with. It’s about who you connect with.

Dangerously Codependant

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 3^rd.

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.

Du är vacker, och du är söt. Jag älskar dig, min lille Moony.

London, Soho. The shop is for yoghurts. The man was a happy accident. We love you, man.