I go to school, I write exams. if I drop out, if I fail, does anyone give a damn?

Post from the past. I'd estimate this around early September. I completed it today, and it seems a shame to start a post and never publish it. Especially since everything I was saying is still appropriate. So have a look at my past, today! It's like time travel but not very interesting.

I made the mistake of telling my dad my exam grades this evening.

My best friend and my partner were both out and unable to talk, leaving me to occupy myself by catching up with my dad for the first time since I got back.

As I should have foreseen, he told me to knuckle down into my studies this year. That much I can agree with. I mean, I am going to University next year, that much is decided, but the choice of Uni depends on how good my grades are, and I'm not about to let Brighton slip through my fingers.

The only thing I have to argue against is the fact that he assumed I didn't really care about my studies last year. That my hobbies and obsessions came first and studies were like the secondary, when they should obviously be primary.

This is because back in my previous school before sixth form, I would never have got a D grade, much less an E, which I got both of (as well as an A and a B, so it's not all terrible). If they asked me how my day was at that time, I'd have instantly launched into what I've learnt, how my friends are, how good my day was.

Now, when they ask, I don't really say much. I shrug, say it was alright, but that's about it.

Long story short, everything I have to say is about my transition, or some other aspect that either they don't know about or they don't care about. I'm regularly told they don't really care about my choices, these are all just observations to do with what I will.

They told me a year or so ago that they felt they were losing me, because I didn't tell them much, but I'm sure I'd be more open to conversation if I felt safe. I'm pretty sure media teacher knows more about my state of mental health than my parents right now. She said she wasn't sure about my name when contacting home, and I told her that it's fine, my name is legal now, and since I'm not actually allowed to answer to my given name by law, that she can use the right one. When she laughed in relief and said it's stupid that teachers are scared of parents, but it's a fact, I said it's fine, because I'm scared of them too. And sure, I threw it out with a tone of nonchalance, but I wasn't joking at all.

But then, that's my default, right? Like Jim Kirk, I cover my problems up with jokes.

But back to the point at hand, I can't really help getting the grades I am, because I'm not exactly having a grand home life, and it's pretty much fact that that affects your learning, because a lot of studying is done at home. Not to mention that the exams are getting harder, because last year I was competing with people that had at least a B or higher in the same subject as me, meaning they were already elite, and this year it's only the people from that exam that got through with a good mark. My family doesn't believe me when I tell them that a certain amount of U and F grades have to be given out, and it's all one bid to not be the kid that gets it, but they haven't been in the educational system for many years. I think I know what I'm talking about.

But I'm not going to get any grades unless I work for them, and I've only got the support of the people that aren't in the same house as me, so better shape up so I can ship out.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange, I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever gonna change.

As disastrous, unplanned, unexpected weekends go, this one was pretty good.

I stayed at my best mate's house, we watched Doom, RED, Star Trek (all because of Karl Urban, and I regret none of it), V For Vendetta and History Boys. My mate got the new Bioshock game so I wrote and spoke to Moony for the day, and Ivan, whenever he was around.

In honesty, I partly regret not going to Pride. I do not doubt it would have been a brilliant day, but I enjoyed the day I got instead. It was calm, it was normal. My mate's mum loves me, and I'm pretty sure she called me dear, or darling, or something, at some point when she made me tea.

Moony called me a few times, somewhat drunk, and it's rather impressive, how good her English is even when she's intoxicated. Bravo, love.

I've taken to wearing the shirt Ivan designed whenever I feel down, or like I need cheering up in any way, because it reminds me that everything is going to be alright. I have people who really care about me, and sometimes that's enough. My mate said he's noticed this already, so it's like Ivan is my go-to, my signal that I'm not in the best mood. One of many reasons my bestie means so much to me.

Me and my mate have the kind of friendship where we tease each other, make stupid jokes, and often say the same thing at the same time. It's really nice to have that kind of support net when I feel stranded in my own home, with my soul mate out of reach for whatever reason. This weekend especially, I really needed that.

This friend, I'll call him Zed, turned 17 yesterday. I was openly invited to go to lunch with him, his wonderful mum and Zed's grandma at a cafe/restaurant that's near the lighthouse where I live. I was introduced as Lorcan, of course, and I was a hit.

She complimented me on my haircut, said I was handsome and intelligent. Afterwards, she asked Zed's mum on the phone why he isn't more like me. So it seems I'm pretty much accepted into the family. I got away with lighthearted jokes about me and Zed's mate, and everyone laughed. I feel awesome about that.

I had my hair like this. Also look Karl yay. Shut up Moony I think he's brilliant.

A family friend visited while I was there, and once more I was accepted as male, got to talk about Moony for a while, and me and Zed contentedly freaked the poor woman out with our 'complicated lingo' (the code is Tumblr.)

At the end of the day, it kinda sucked to go home. My room is somehow already a mess, even though I barely spent time in it. But for realsies this time, Moony will be here tonight. I'll go pick her up at the station and our affection will freak out the locals.

And now we have the part of the post where I awkwardly link to the title.

Sleeping in Zed's room is really cool, because he has a really minimalist layout, and it's very different to my room. I got an awesome space-theme duvet - I have a space-theme thing at the moment, in case anyone is new here and doesn't know that yet - and it was sort of like being room mates or something.

I kept being woken up by the sun from about 8am onwards because the edge of the blind lined up with where I was sprawled out and I ended up laying with an arm over my face to block the bastard out. But it was at moments like that this weekend that I've wondered what I'd change if I could. God knows I'd be on testosterone by now, my name would be changed, and I'd love to be in Brighton by now, but then I'd miss moments like this, moments of just hanging out with my best friend, making stupid jokes to give the other person equal amounts of humour and pain.

Of course, this weekend could have been better spent with Moony, but since I was forced to find my own amusement, it was a good way to pass time.