Silent Post: Inside

It seems a little mad to be writing a post that I will never, well, post, but write it I must. Things to express, things to consider. Thoughts that maybe will make more sense if I have them staring back at me. The impossible, imponderable paradoxes that are part of the conundrum keeping me awake at night.

I think, no, believe, that it's pretty likely now that I know when the last time will be that I feel real intimacy. It's already happened. The more I think about it, the more I realise this is true.

It's now 18months since I was last intimate in any way with my actual, still there, spouse. Since then I can count on two fingers the number of times there has even been so much as a hug, and one of those was in the counsellor's room. I can't see the feeling coming back and, I believe, it's reciprocated. There is nothing. Quite literally the only thing that binds us together is the children, but then surely that's as it should be. And, I guess fortunately, I'm in the position where there isn't somebody else trying to persuade me to move on.

So that's a good thing.

Except, it isn't. I'm also, still, utterly in love with that someone. And, as impossible and, I'm beginning to realise that is, I know it's unlikely to go away. Great. This means, quite simply, that I'm utterly uninterested in anyone else. True, there is one dalliance, but that's more to keep my sanity than anything else, and, as much as the dalliance is professing strong feelings, they are simply not reciprocated. Which is quite bad. Like a lot, yes, but I don't get that yawning chasm of infinity opening up as I look in to their eyes.

But even if the unrequited and impossible one wasn't there, then what? I see nothing. The only way I could find anyone that would remain interested in me in my birth sex would be to finally smother me and continue as a lie. I can't do that, not any more, it simply builds resentment. And in my brain gender? Well, that's even worse, treated as a kink at best and simply unlikely to build something where I could possibly have the same feelings back.

And that's what I want. I've finally worked it out, or should I say admitted it. Somebody to love me as I love them. Something warm and deep, that stirs the soul as a glance is exchanged. But, it's doomed to be one way, or not at all.

Which I find incredibly sad. But I think it's also time to tell myself that I should get used to the idea that I've seen the last time and can reflect on it with some warmth rather than simply living with the far worse alternative.

Bitter hope.