I have to get out of this apartment, because I have flashbacks all the time. Just this evening, I saw him standing at the stove cooking me breakfast. This is something he did almost every Saturday in the beginning of our relationship, but not so much in the end. To deal with these haunting memories, as soon as the visual appears, I immediately think of something else to do, and concentrate on that.
Very quickly I lost sight of the woman who was emerging, and she was hijacked willingly by a smooth talking, good-looking boy. I was forty years old at the time, and here was this young twenty-three year old strapping young man showing me interest. I was completely blinded, and swept up in the moment. I loved how he treated me, and loved the things he would say to me. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, and knew exactly how I needed to be treated.
If it were anyone else I know what I would do, but this is my baby sister. I will handle this delicately and with a clear mind, which I do not have at the present time. All I know is that I’ve been losing a lot of important people in my life lately and it’s really starting to hurt. My mind says cut her out but my heart says something else. The war between heart and mind is starting to make me feel all alone.
After Nicholas and I were connected again on social media, I did find someone that was a big part of our online romance in the beginning. I had just began to transition and was a member of a transgender support group. That’s where he and I met. There were a lot of people in this group that were supporters and allies of the transgender community, and we got to know a few of them, and they supported our new blossoming love. When I saw her name in his friends list I immediately sent her a friend request, and we picked up as if we hadn’t lost contact with one another.
I made myself a pan full of fried potatoes, onions, and two sunny-side up eggs to smother the top with. As I’ve said before my kitchen was a spot in the house that I’ve had trouble going into much less cooking a meal. For some reason this morning was completely different. It was as though I took my kitchen back. There were no sad memories, no horrible feelings, it was great, and I once again enjoyed cooking.
I completely took it the wrong way when you reached out to me. For that I'm sorry. Being in . . . . .
