“And then Jonathan meets Mavis and they “zing,” which apparently means they really, really like each other.”

I like to think of myself as Mavis and Chris as Jonathan, of course.  Taken in context it’s a review of the movie Hotel Transylvania.  Of course the idea of meeting someone and “zinging” stuck with me given my own, often overwhelming, love of all things Chris.  I had it in my mind to write this post as “An open letter to Chris”, but sometimes, this time at least, it doesn’t seem to work out that way.

A couple posts ago, I referenced having rather involuntarily quit all my meds during my week and half dance with Hurricane Isaac in Louisiana.  It was a brief look at detransition.  I reference that because at one point in the dance I remember thinking who I’d text final goodbyes, etc. to if things totally went against the plan and there was ever the slightest risk of me not making it out alive.  Of course you have to start these things at the top (with the most important first) and work your way down – as I was fond of saying “Hurricanes don’t ever seem to consult your datebook for a convenient time to come ashore”.  Of course Chris was at the top of my list.  Actually I remember thinking, I don’t care if I don’t get to say goodbye to anyone else, just so long as Chris knows I’ve loved him for near as long as I’ve known him and I always will.

As for my glimpse of detransition, two weeks is not nearly long enough to be considered even a halfhearted attempt at it.  Two weeks into HRT is certainly no length of time to make assumptions either, so it must be true.  The point being, without meds the feelings I have for, towards and about the entire spectrum of transition related issues (Chris included) didn’t change.  Granted it’s a weak test of my will, but it assures me that I have no desire to detransition, nor would detransition change the issues.

Regarding Chris, I think I’ve said before I’d marry him tomorrow if he’d ask me.  In my heart, I know I love him that much.  Chris remains the one and only person I have any desire to endure a pregnancy for (were it possible).  I love him that much.  Funny thing is Chris pursued me, sort of.  I don’t think he intended for me to fall in love with him, so much as he just really, really wanted to be friends with me.  Along came a spontaneous hug goodbye, mostly one sided by Chris, and for the first time I knew I loved him.  It’s grown exponentially since then.

It’s a great story to tell at a wedding, right?  Ok then, just agree with me anyways.  🙂

Of course, the reality of the situation is that while I’m sure Chris has at least some indication that I like him, and probably even that I love him, my being in love with him is a completely abstract concept for him.  As is the fact that I maintain it’s totally heterosexual given my transgender status, despite my still presenting as a guy.  Telling Chris I’m in love with him comes after telling him I’m transgendered.  Which hasn’t happened yet either, of course.

I acknowledged to my partner (at work) yesterday that until such time as Chris hurt me, he would remain firmly on the pedestal I’ve put him on.  On that pedestal, of course, he’s perfect and can do no wrong.  I didn’t set out to “zing” with Chris; I’d even say my initial attitude towards him was indifferent even.  But he pursued a relationship, a friendship, and things just happened.  I didn’t mean necessarily to fall in love with him, but I did, and I’ve never felt this way, this strongly, about anyone.

Maybe it just the hormones, and the second puberty (I know I sound so much like a teenager in all of this), maybe it’s knowing what I’m looking for in a boyfriend finally after years of confusion in the gay community, maybe it’s all of it and maybe it’s none of it.  It’s not healthy and I need to balance it out.  Ask my partner, if Chris doesn’t text me regularly, I get moody and depressed.  Chris forgot my birthday and I was a complete bitch for about a week (this of course I learned after the fact from my partner), when Chris does text me, the world stops while I text him back.  I see Chris once or twice a week and I refer to the day or so after as “after glow”.  Heck even the anticipation of seeing Chris is worth the emotional rush.  I went so far as to say I needed to get Chris trained as an EMT so he could get a job at another ambulance service and I could have more “unexpected Chris” (the best thing in the world BTW) when we ran into each other at the various hospitals.

You don’t have to tell me, I know I have an unhealthy obsession.  Besides my partner already does.  But wait there’s more.  Here’s where I was wondering how I’d gotten so far off track and how I was going to tie it into my venture into detransition.

What starts out as knowing my luck Chris is probably gay anyways becomes, I just want to be what (who) it takes for Chris to love me as much as I love him.  Sure it sounds good on paper, but I know in my heart it’s probably not healthy.  But how far would I be willing to go, even if it meant detransition, for Chris to love me or for any man for that matter?  I know, somewhat, what it is.  I’ve never loved someone as much as I love Chris, or loved/craved the attention from anyone as much as I do Chris.  I think most of all I fear that if I lose Chris, I’ll never know those feelings, that “zing”, again.  Yet if I tell Chris of my feelings, I fear I’ll lose him all the same.  That feels like it would hurt worse than suffering in silence waiting for my love to be returned.

The only way for me to move past this is to knock Chris off that pedestal I put him on.  I fear that means forcing him to hurt me somehow (metaphorically speaking).

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