Can Dreams Come True?... Part 6

You know how hard it is to actually take your own advice?

Josie mind your business.

But…but Ryan might be…like me.

Or something else.

I felt boobs there and there really is no way to say that I was feeling something there that I wasn’t because well boobs are boobs. I have my own and even though he conceals them they’re there and who would wear falsies only to hide them?

And for some reason that thought of Ryan being something like an FtM is kind of?

I’m so getting these yay tingles right now and it’s sort of freaking me out.

I’m a transwoman and I want the whole thing if I can ever get to a place in my life where that’s feasible but if I like girls that are really boys just how does that work? How could it work?

And no I’m not talking about the sexual mechanics I mean c’mon I’m not that much not in synch with what goes on it’s just. I’m not too sure that I heard of this before other than some story or something on Facebook.

And that might as well be in the tabloids really Facebook had very little semblance to real life or at least it does in my experience.

And no…me being transgendered does not make me a walking wiki of all things Trans or LGBT.

Oh I feel all over the place.

But…

And this is kind of a really big deal and that’s the fact that it has been forever since really I’ve been attracted to someone outside of the nebulous fantasies in my bed.

And I’m kind of shot back to being a teenager again sitting here aroused and not exactly in a place socially that I can just be around anyone with this situation. And I’m embarrassed too. And It’s not just my aching nipples but a part of me that when it works usually makes me want to cry.

I look up and Ryan’s coming back in and he’s got his own bowl of this chicken pot pie soup and he smiles at me.

“The soup okay?”

“God yes it’s really good.”

“Well that could be starvation talking. You shouldn’t go without eating all day and working even if you family are being utter shits to you.”

“I can’t eat when I’m upset.” I hunch sort of defensively.

“Okay but when you are upset like that you should come get me.”

“Ryan, I can’t do that I barely know you…” My voice kind of trails that bit off because it just sounds kind of insulting really or it does to me.

“You can Josie, there’s this custom my people have called not being a shit. It’s where a person actually steps away from being all self absorbed to actually consider someone else’s feelings.”

(Sniffle.) “Darned Canadians.”

“Damned Skippy.”

He has this smile that’s.

It’s happy and fun and big and for me. It’s like that smile and the eyes and just everything about him’s not just kind of soothing but he actually and freakily makes me feel better.

I’m biting my lip and sort of ducking my head a bit. “I like Skippy peanut butter.”

“Me too.”

“Ryan?”

“Hmmm…” He says? Around a mouthful of food. Okay he eats like a guy. Then again I’ve always found the whole girl dainty eater thing a myth or a put on. We just use napkins and try not to wear our food.

And yep…as soon as the thought comes through…splooch on my shirt. A good sized piece of gravy covered crust.

I’m blushing and he pulls some Kleenex from the box on the coffee table and passes them to me. I’m trying to clean it without making it worse and blushing too and I sort of use the distraction.

“Why me?”

“We’re neighbors.”

“That really doesn’t mean much these days Ryan.”

“Well it still does to me, neighbors should be friends.”

“I…I’m not good with making friends…I’m…I’m all kinds of messed up.”

“You’re not the only one there Josie. The word’s a messed up place.”

“It takes a lot for people to take me Ryan, like long term.”

“That’s true with everyone Josie, it’s why people break up and stuff.”

(Sniffle.) “Well with me it’s chronic…people leave me Ryan.”

I hear him take a deep breath like a lot of people have done before when I’m getting on a nerve. He gets up. “Here, that’ll set a grease stain let me wash it.”

“I’m…I’m just in my bra under this.”

“Well it’s a good thing that I’m wearing a spare then.” I look up to see him pulling off his outer shirt and I was right he’s got breasts.

“Ryan?”

“Yes, they’re real.”

“Uhm I was going to ask…are you?”

“Cross matching you?”

“Uhm…yeah.”

“Sort of, I’m messed up too.”

“Like?”

“I’m a biological girl even though I’ve been a guy all my life.”

“So you’re trans like me?”

“No…I don’t have the GID thing I’m kind of good with how I’m put together I’m just not a girl.”

“Oh…” I’m not sure I get it totally but standing there the way that they present and body language…it says guy…well not guy actually it says Ryan to me.

And for lack of a better response than just ‘oh’ I reach out and take the offered shirt. I’m looking a it and it’s baggy enough to fit me too it’s just…how’d they take me asking?

“Uhm…can you turn around?”

There’s a smile there that is…I think It’s definitely growing on me.

He turn’s but says. “I’ll set this to soak okay?”

“Uhm…yeah.”

I watch him go and I know now and I can see it too but at the same time not? Like watching him walk away it’s not swishy, no wiggle really, no sway well not like you couldn’t actually see on anyone guy or girl and if I ignored the bra outline, they still sort of frame like a guy…slender but no crazy slender and he’s got some very nice shoulders.

I wonder if he works them out?

I wonder if his body is strong.

Blink…oh…my if she’s a guy and I’m attracted to him am I straight or a lesbian or something else?

I actually snap out of it enough to put the shirt on which was the whole point of him stepping away to fix my shirt.

Okay it smells nice….a little men’s cologne or aftershave mixed in with body scent and there’s this strong scent too like chocolate and cinnamon? It’s so odd and really good too.

And Ryan comes back while I’m smelling his shirt.

I blush. “Sorry it’s just it smells so…what do you use?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Oh…well this…it suits you.”

“Thanks.” He smiles and goes back to his bowl. “You want to stick around?”

“Around?”

“Mmm…y’know stay for awhile.”

“Ryan I don’t want to be…”

“You’re not.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you’ve got laundry?”

“Some.”

“We can bring it over and hand out and do laundry, watch a little TV or something?”

“Uhm…okay.”

“Cool, more?”

“Yes please. I still say you’re going to spoil me.”

“Good sometimes we need that.”

“Being spoiled?”

He takes my bowl with his and leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“Just someone to actually care Josie.”

(Sniffle.) “Okay…”

I could’ve asked why again, I could’ve just distrusted myself and all of this happening to me.

But I’m tired, I’m tired and just…I just want someone to care.

Maybe even carry me a little while.