*Before…

I was trans, I was me and trapped and everything that went with that and when it comes right down to it none of us.

Not one person like me in real life wants some perfect fantasy life, we just want OUR life, the good and the bad the laughter and the tears all of it.

I kiss him again and sort of lean walk with him where we can sit down together.

“We’ll get through it Josh, we will….how about you tell me about us, but the future us? What do you want to do when we’re past this? Talk to me, tell me about your plans, our home, what you want for a change.”

He’s looking at me again like he might just cry as he smiles this really nice but kinda broken smile.

“Well the first thing is I think I want to move.”

*And Now…

Josh looks at me. “Move?”

“I want a place out of that place, maybe someplace close to your folks?”

“Why?”

“A fresh start, plus we’re getting along so well and I want our kids close to your folks. It’d be nice to walk there on a good day with a stroller.”

“That is close.”

“Well not right on top of them, we’ll want our privacy and stuff too of course but I kinda want real family and it’s kind of obvious that stuff with my family at best was going through the motions.”

“Good point and my practice won’t change much from what I’m doing now.”

I smile.

“I like what you’re doing now, your mom has told me that sometimes you just help people and it’s not about getting pain or paid on time.”

Josh blushes. “Everyone does some pro-bono stuff.”

I look at him. “Not everyone and it doesn’t matter I love that you’re doing it.”

“You do.”

“Times are tough, and legal stuff happens to folks all the time and a legal bill can be pretty big especially if there’s no money coming back from whatever issue.”

He’s blinking at me. “You’ve really been thinking about this.”

I gesture around. “Where am I going? And then there’s no point in not looking ahead...it’s the only direction any of us are going. We’ve been through hell, I made a lot of it...I hate that and I’m sorry but I want our life.”

He moves to look at me a little more head on and focused. “I’m serious, I wore this shell of someone I’m not and honestly never knew how to be for so long.”

Of course I’m talking about myself and it fits her too.

But I really do mean it.

It means a lot when he has this exhale, you know the one that you let out that actually lets out stress. Then he leans over and puts his forehead to mine and we just sit there like that holding each other, breathing.

And that is a big deal for me.

I’m starved for moments like this, connections like this. I never ever had a chance to be me enough to have a connection like this with anyone.

We do that for what feels like forever and not long enough and then he gently holds me and tilts my chin back for a kiss and it is everything that I wanted and ached for.

And yeah there’s some of the double meaning for that.

Actually it’s us doing that and getting to the point of betting to that painfully turned on that we put the brakes on and share this half edgy laughter.

Then we talk some more.

About us and moving and the case and just what we can do.

There’s still not much word from Taylor’s or my parents.

It’s more like I heard from people still there online that they heard and had asked questions but they sent nothing really to us or reached out...like at all.

Even Josh says. “I called, I left messages, I even wrote like snail mail old school and nothing honey.”

“Nothing?”

“Sorry.”

I just nod.

Part of me is hurt, part of me is mad. I should be more relieved with my situation but honestly who does that?

Who cuts off family because they didn’t marry well enough or rich enough or high classed enough?

“I’ll write them myself and lay everything out and if they don’t want to reach out then...then it’ll suck but I’ll have to move on. I have a family, and you and they’ve been here supporting me this whole time. I’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

And Josh is with me as I type out a letter and tell them pretty much everything that’s going on from my diagnosis, the post partum, the drinking and well everything that I can tell without telling them I was born someone else.

I do want out of here, so I do go with the memory loss.

And after that.

“I want to plead guilty Josh.”

“Guilty? Taylor you might get jail time.”

“I want out of here Josh, out of all of it and to get my life back. I’m always going to feel bad for the folks caught up in this so I want to...I want to do the right thing. I don’t want to be that rich person that gets away with things because we’re rich and you’re a lawyer and other things that people will think and say.”

“Are you sure, really sure.”

I look at him. “Walk me through all of it, not as your wife but your client, explain it all to me.”

And he does.

And it is really scary.

But in the end, I still feel the same way.

He leaves when visiting hours are over and we spend the last five minutes just standing together holding each other and breathing.

It’s kind of like slow dancing that sort of same close, leaning on each other. And I need this. I really, really needed this, him in my life holding me.

And I feel him feel the same way, there’s a physical reaction that I feel when I hold him tight and feel his muscles and some of that stress uncoil in him.

Then we share a long kiss goodbye.

*Sigh*

We end up doing that same routine for the rest of the week Josh coming over after or before work, his Mom and Dad with the baby, I get to have time with them and then time with the doctor here and in group therapy and I even signed up for the art therapy.

I always wanted to try doing something artistic, like painting but I never really had the time or the guts. Me painting things inside of me, or things that I liked was scary stuff in my old life.

And doing a self portrait would have been...triggering if I painted something honestly.

It’s kind of a release learning and doing.

Even if I’m doing watercolors and vases and flowers and birds and innocent stuff to start.

It’s a start.

And we can exercise here too.

I mean it’s all safety set up of course so we can’t hurt ourselves or others because I am in a mental care ward but we have a room we have supervised access to with a treadmill and two bikes and a bowflex machine.

And while women are supposed to be soft and curvy, I am me enough that I want to be in shape.

I want to look good, sure, but I want to be able to do things with Josh and I want to do things with our child or maybe later children.

Thankfully mentally I’m still me so I adjust to a routine that I set for myself and my therapist is impressed at it and she approves of my reasoning especially with doing things with Josh and the baby.

She approves even of my deciding to plead guilty.

“It’s a choice, one way or another it’s a little less uncertainty and hard choices that you took away from hanging over you.”

So after that week she talked to the courthouse and some other people and I am getting a weekend pass to got home. I don’t have to wear anything, the judge said I’m not that kind of offender and with my family and everything I’m not really a flight risk.

So...so this weekend I am going home.

And really stepping into her life.

I’m scared to death and I want this so bad all at the same time.