CUNT

Tom and I went to the theatrical production that our friend John recommended to us. The production was the "Vagina Monologues". I liked it, but Tom, I realized, when we got home had a different opinion of them. He was not himself when we got home that evening. He kind of froze like he did the first night when he came to the realization that he didn’t want to be the fuckee as in he didn’t want to be a woman. It kind of scared me because now I am thinking, what else is it? I hope I can treat it with my sweet adorable self. I have been thinking that he needs therapy, but he says that he doesn’t feel like opening up to anyone. At the same time I can’t stand seeing him explode once a month you know, when his period occurs. Tom wakes up on Saturday and while we start eating breakfast he starts ranting and razing. . . .

"I HATE MY FUCKING CUNT! WHY DO I HAVE TO HAVE IT WHY CAN’T GO AWAY?"

Tom sobs as he says this. It is finally hitting him that his female anatomy is still here and has not gone away too much of his disarray.

I try to console him,"

you will be able to get the surgery sooner or later."

"What do you mean sooner or later? I don’t or let’s say we don’t have 53 grand for a surgery that is not going to be done for life threatening purposes."

"Don’t think so pestimistcly, Tom. There is time before you will even be ready to be on hormones anyway. You do need to get your psych meds inline, you know?"

"Yes, fuck Jamie you are so correct. My fucking psych drugs, being manic-depressive really sucks, and so deciphers everything that I have meant to do in my life."

"Well Tom, dear, I am glad that you are finally seeing some sense into what is going on in the big picture. Ya, you hate your goddamn cunt. You have made that clear, but what you need to realize is that when I get the money that it is going to be removed."

"Jamie, have I ever told you that I can feel the inside of my cunt? I can feel it baby. Ya I know it is there when we fuck, but I can really feel it when I am bleeding. I freaks me baby it really does. It makes me want to cry because it is as though the manness is leaving me. The blood is the male leaving my body. Ever since I stopped taking the pill I just feel more with my body. . . ."

"You are throwing me off Tom, what do you mean you feel at one with your body when you off the pill but then with your period you feel in distress?"

"Well the thing is Jamie is that by me not being on the pill I feel more sensual more sexual and I just feel better. It is just when you or someone else brings up their period then it throws me off."

I let things rest and Tom goes back into the living room doing whatever boys do. I have no clue what boys do. I have always wondered. In this day and age I wonder if there is a set gender structured guideline for play/activities for the sexes including the adults. On another note, he did not leave me with much of an answer. How would I feel if I had a piece of anatomy that I did not want to have? I ask myself that question and knowing that I usually agree with Tom on most things that I would be reacting in the same situation.

"Jamie, do you want to know more about how I feel about my cunt, how I wince when I start to bleed?"

I motion to Tom to tell more. I really do want to know more about how he feels and what he is going through.

"It is like. . . I feel the blood go though my cunt and I feel it scrunching up and out. The canal if that is what you call it, I just feel it being open. It is really hard to explain, but it just feels so fucking weird like yuck."

"I feel the same way and it is just natural to me. It is nothing weird. It is just I don’t know, it is just another cramp no biggy."

"Jamie, with me it is like I am losing myself, my real me. The knight in shining honor where his shield is being dissolved and his breasts are being revealed."

"So Tom you basically feel like you are falling apart?"

"Yes"

"I do Jamie. You have summed it up the most and to the tee. I am losing my masculinity. It is even worse with my chest. I really hate my breasts. I like the snugness of the binder, but when I think about how they are there and it means female, it throws me off."

"Tom I really don’t know what to say. . . I just assumed what most women assumed about their bodies and it is just the way it is going to be with it."

I shrug my shoulders in frustration of this whole mess. I keep on thinking why does this have to be this way? Why couldn’t he have been born male, but if he had it would not be chaotic. Chaos makes things go around in circles.

He comes over to me and leans into my breasts and as he does he touches my breasts and it feels good.

"Why did you do that honey?"

"Jamie, I don’t know. . . I think, I wanted to do that to tell myself that being a girl is an all right thing and that I can love breasts and hate them at the same time."

"That is a courageous acknowledgment dear. I mean really, the more you talk about this situation the bigger the grasp that I get on these trans issues."

Tom looks up into my eyes. We stare into each other before bother of us drift over to the couch crashing and burning. In the end we fall a sleep waking to a crimp in my neck.