---

Image Credit: Picture purchased and licensed for use from

123rf.com. ~Sephrena.

---

Accusations

She stares at me with a loving eye

You are a wonderful man
This makes me sigh

The best man I ever known
I let it go by

The most amazing stepfather
I needed to try

I don't think I could make it unless I had you
I am not going to cry

I am so happy I married you
Its all been a lie

I know you'll never hurt me
I can't shame her I must die

We will be together forever
All that's left is to say goodbye

Jennifer C. © 2013

---

Hey boo, It's over she found out! I swear I had locked my laptop, but she got in and found out. I had the site up, showing a story I was outlining.

All the things I thought she would do she did, in front of the kids no less. There was a fight she said some things and I, well it doesn't matter anymore. I sent you an email with my login for the site it also has some attachments stuff we were working on so you can finish them. I know I tell you to be strong but I can't anymore I am so very tired. I look forward to the sleep - no more worry, no more fear. I do love you so much but I can't go on. Log into my account and apologize to everyone for me, and make sure you tell them! Don't let them forget me! All I wanted was to be a happy girl. :( It's better this way, I'm at the place we talked about I can see the whole city from here. I wish you were here holding me... Maybe it might make a difference, I don't know. It's time for me to fly love. Take care don't wind up like me. Make sure you live to the fullest and be the sweet girl I know you are. I promise I'll watch over you if I can. I'm going now, the last step. You were the one good thing in my life honey don't cry too much. Love your friend, Imelda.

---

 
 
I knew it was coming down. Thirty years of experience told me that. Marushia and Jennings were on the hose line. I'll never understand these houses on the south side; falling apart, but a sixty inch LCD TV in the living room. Rupp and I were looking for the boy. They always ask the rookies, “Where did you hide as a kid?” First check the closets, then under the bed; that's where you'll find them. Rupp had the child in a mask and was carrying him out. I looked up and saw the cracks and little licks of flame in the ceiling — I knew it was coming down. I yelled at the guys on the hose to cover Rupp and the kid, while I gave him a huge shove in the back. Out the door they went, and down the ceiling came on me. I felt sharp searing pain and then blackness.

My name is Mark Hernandez. I'm a lieutenant in the San Antonio Fire Department. Rescue 21 is my unit; we work out of the south side of SA at station 18. Like I said before, I've been doing this for thirty plus years. It started out as a way to bury my true self in masculinity; become that ‘guy’, then maybe the feelings would go away. Eventually I got good at it, good enough to work my way up to officer. But she never left — Martha stayed inside me all the time.

I married my beautiful wife Inez. We had two kids: one is in college, the other manages a home improvement store. I even have a grandbaby; she is so pretty, and looks like my wife. I never told anyone about Martha. I felt like I was meant to suffer. I became reckless at work, a hero by many standards and rewarded with citations and medals. But no one really knew I had a death wish.

My best friend Steve Pike figured it out; he told me we would “talk about it, now”. He wouldn't let me go until I said what was bothering me. I tried to play it off and lie about it just being stress. He knew I was hiding something; we had been friends too long. He finally got it out of me. The pent up emotions that I had locked inside me all this time came rushing out. Martha was known. And my life was over, right? Wrong, Steve came over to me sat down on the couch and cradled me in his arms. He softly stroked my back and whispered it would be ok.

We were friends. More than friends; we had saved each other’s lives many times over. Something like this would never change that. He asked me to explain it all, and he never stopped holding me. I felt safe, protected, and most of all free. Steve asked how far I was willing to go; I said I was not sure, I still had Inez and the kids to think about. He asked if she might be ok with it, and I stated I honestly didn't know. He thought a minute then said I could be me here at his place whenever I wanted. I gave him a stare and asked how he would feel seeing me in feminine attire; he shrugged and said it doesn't matter, as I was his sister. That started me crying again.

Things settled into a remarkably easy flow after that, I had promised Steve that I would not do anything without checking with him first. We had our off days sync up so I could spend time exploring myself at his house. I belonged to a fiction site, and I blogged about Steve there and let him read it. The blog made him blush when I wrote of his friendship and his habit of saving my life in many different ways. He was always a perennial bachelor, but stopped going out as much and chose to stay home and learn about me. My wife never suspected a thing, but I was starting to really take stock of the situation I was in. I did not want to hurt my wife or my kids so it looked as if this would be as far as Martha ever got. Until that day I knew it was coming down and pushed Jennings out of the way.

When I woke up in the ambulance I looked up into Pike's face. He was yelling at me to stay with him, I couldn't feel much of anything. There was no pain from the burns, no feeling of broken bones; things must be pretty bad then. But I knew this is what I had needed. This was the answer to all the problems. I smiled at Pike. He knew what I was thinking and leaned over to whisper in my ear “don't you dare, Martha — don't you dare leave”. I did say he knew me too well. I strained my voice and said “it’s ok, its better this way; take care of Inez for me”. I lost consciousness again after that. The last thing I heard was Pike's voice telling me to fight it, but I think he knew the answer.

The next time I awoke was in the hospital. Inez was there. I told her I loved her. I really did, you know. I just wish I had the strength to tell her about Martha, but now that wouldn't matter. I reminded her where all the insurance paperwork was. I knew she would be well taken care of. I asked her to let the kids know how much I cared for them. When she started to cry, I let her leave the room and motioned Pike over.

His face was grim; I smiled at him. “Pike, its better this way; I don't have to carry the weight anymore, and Inez never has to know. I can just slip away and everything is solved.” Pike leaned in close to my ear and whispered to me, “you can't go — I just found out about my sister, and I need her; I don't have anyone else”.

My Steve, my brother; I loved him so much. I told him, “I'm sorry Pike; I'm just so tired of hiding and burying myself from the world. You have to let go of me, and take care of Inez — she will need someone strong”. Tears dropping from his eyes, he said, “I need you. No one else knows me or understands me like you do”. After a heavy sigh, he said he would watch over my family. He kissed me on the cheek, and told me it was ok to rest. I whispered “thank you”. I closed my eyes praying that I could finally be me, and let go.

Two figures walked hand in hand towards a lonely tree. In its shade was a small marble bench with a plaque that said,

The two sat on the bench and looked at the two headstones placed side by side. The one on the right was engraved,

The one on the left was similar but said

One of the figures turned and asked the other, "do you think she is ok with me becoming your husband?" The other turned and kissed his cheek and said, "I think she would have wanted us both to be as happy as possible without her. She will always be a part of both of us, and I hope and pray she finally found her peace".

---

Lonely

I walked into a crowded place.
Full of family, full of friends
All who saw me, said Hello.

No one saw my inside face.
Secrets kept, which never ends.
Feelings buried, always below.

Life was alway a futile race.
My soul in pieces, with pain that rends.
To make it stop, one day I'll go.

Special thanks to Kristine Roland for help with my little poem.
 

---

Image Credit: the stage from Missymiller at Wordpress.com

---

 

---

Love Lost

I prayed for love to last

I hoped for love to last

I needed love to last

It goes away
It always leaves

I pray the hurt is in the past

I hope the hurt is in the past

I need the hurt in the past

It doesn't go away
It always stays

---

Special thanks to Andrea Lena DiMaggio

Image Copyright (c)

123RF Stock Photos

---

The sky opens and sheds its tears,
who do they fall for?
The forgotten, the marginalized, the persecuted,
persons like you and me.
The sky sees the treatment of difference and cries,
hoping to wash it all away.
A new day starts with a clear blue vista and with a rainbow,
giving us one more chance to love one another and accept.
The sky knows it will cry again,
but one day they will be happy tears of joy.

---

Image credit: http://all-free-download.com/free-photos/download/rain_20581...

---

 
-SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS-

The alert went off from my phone, and at first I ignored it. But it was the ring for a message from the TG fiction site I belong to, so my curiosity got the better of me and I looked down to check. It was from Imelda, my good friend on the site. I opened the message and read in horror.

I was out with my coworkers at a team building exercise held at a bar named The Bitter End, on Bitters road. I hastily made my excuses with my fellow employees and planned to leave immediately. No sooner had I headed towards the door when my ass of a manager stops me to talk about the Cowboys and the chances they will make the playoffs next year. Next year - exactly my point: they suck. The only chance they have is next year, and get rid of Romo, for gods sake; he blows, and the only reason he’s the quarterback is he was the best of what was left. I’m a Saints fan anyway. I stormed off, reminding myself to blame it on the beer next time I saw him.

It was Christmas Eve, and I was once again thinking: what moron of a boss (1) plans a party for employees, (2) requires attendance at said party, (3) on Christmas Eve! A boss who has no family or friends, just the people he works with - that’s who. And how does he find a bar willing to hold said party?

I got in my car and turned the key. It was so chilly. Our only cold snap for the year had started last week, and was now in full swing: they were predicting snow. Snow - in south Texas - that would stick; it had not happened since 1985. Come on car, start! When it did start I couldn’t get out of the parking lot fast enough. Traffic was a nightmare; people getting last minute stuff they needed, I guess. As I started zigzagging through traffic, I thought back to how I met Imelda.

I first joined the site in February of this year. I knew all my life I was transgendered, but had hid it for a long time successfully. However, within the last two years I had felt I had to do something about it; I felt oppressed by the weight of it all. I had no wife or children; I did have a very religious and strong willed mother, a macho father, and two very female sisters, girly-girl types. all this transpired to keep me in the closet.

So I joined the fiction site and Jennifer started to live. I had lurked for years, but finally made a profile. It was enjoyable being myself, and I made quite a few amazing friendships, folks who helped me along and encouraged me to write as a way to come to grips with my feelings.

I met Melly after I had been on the site for a few months; her name popped up as a new member, and I don’t know why but I sent her a ‘welcome’ private message. She responded, and seemed very skittish but nice. Over the months we tentatively revealed more information to each other, until one day we found out we were in the same city. That kind of freaked us out a bit, but we laughed it off and soon became each other’s exclusive support network.

She was even more in the closet than I was. She had a family, a wife and two kids; a boy (thirteen) and a girl (twelve). She always said there would be no way she would come out while her kids were still in school. Her horrible wife berated her constantly about money, yet refused to work herself because “the children needed her at home”. What a crock; the kids never got home before six, and the only thing that leech of a spouse did was sit on the couch and watch the Oprah channel all day.

I had suggested we meet and told her it would appear like just two guys having coffee, beer or a burger. No one would be any wiser; she was still gun-shy about it, which was fine with me. What we hadn’t counted on was how close we became, and how much we cared about each other. I thought it was amazing how we had communicated all over the Internet — the site, Twitter, Facebook - and we only lived 12 miles away from each other.

I started calling her Melly and she started calling me Boo. That nickname became mine after an embarrassing event one Halloween. Some friends and I attended the famous Nightmare on Grayson, a yearly haunted house attraction. I don’t startle easily, but the creep in the last room got me good; I jumped ten feet and peed in my pants. Hence, the name Boo. I promised myself there would never be a repeat episode of this.

To everyone else on the site we were like sisters; Imelda and Jennifer, joined at the hip. We wrote several stories together and were starting a few more; we had outlined a big sci-fi epic and were currently trying to map out the plot. Things were ok, right? Wrong.

I pull my phone back out of my pocket, looking at the message while driving. I think I know where she is talking about, but I hope I’m in time. My foot pressed a little harder on the pedal trying to squeeze out a little more speed. The roads were icy, but that did not deter me; I had to get there, I had to. I loved her so much,

I didn’t feel like my life could go on if I lost her. She gave me so much encouragement when I was down … cheered me up at least once a week … told me that I would succeed with my transition when the time was right. I looked not at all feminine, but she swore that my heart would bury any masculine trappings and broadcast the real me to the world. I had never seen her; she said it was too late for her to try to transition, and that she was too well known. But I thought if I could do it, so could she.

I knew I was running out of time; I had to get there. Down the highway doing 70 mph to the Kyle road exit, then turn left. There is a cliff out here, about a hundred and twenty foot high; you can see the whole city clear to downtown from the ledge. It’s near a theme park that set up shop around twenty years ago. Up the winding sightseeing road; I can’t take the corners any faster, or I will spin out. When I get to the top of the hill I see her - standing on the rail.

My heart leapt in my throat. She was so close to killing us both; her physically, and me emotionally. She seemed startled by the appearance of my car and uncertain until I turned off the headlights. I ran out of the car, barely putting it in park.

I called out - “Melly, please stop!” - I begged her, pleading, my voice faltering. “Imelda, I love you so much, I can’t make it without you! You light up my soul; if I have you, I can do anything - I can live, and so can you.”

I was shuddering; half because of the cold, and half because of the sheer emotion flowing out of my heart. I did not realize how much I needed her; how much it would hurt without her. Her laugh … her way of saying ‘um’ between every word … her soft, encouraging voice on the phone. Was I selfish? Had I done one tenth of what she had done for me? Was I as important to her as she was to me? She said so in the message, but was it enough?

I gave it one last pained try. “It’s not the end; please give me a chance to show you the freedom you now have.” My watering eyes looked up at her; I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Sobs wracked my chest as I fell to my knees, openly crying.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up into her blue watery eyes shimmering in the little light from the dim bulbs held aloft on poles. She said to me in a whisper, “it’ll be all right, Boo; I promise I will never leave you.” This was my Melly, so strong; with purpose, she reached down and pulled me to my feet, and held me softly. “I’ll always hold you, I’ll never let go,” she breathed. I felt comforted by her tightly wrapped arms, and I wondered who had saved whom.

We would face it all together; any challenge, we could conquer them all, because we had each other and nothing else mattered.

I looked up into the night sky and said, “thank you.” And at that moment, I swear one of the stars winked back at me. We stood there as the first snow in decades began to fall around us, dusting us with its light touch. It was getting colder, but I had all the warmth I would ever need in her loving embrace.

END.

Special thanks:
-to Sigh for battling the grammar monsters I tend to spawn
-to Cassie Ellen for the idea to let Imelda live and some great dialogue
-to the usual suspects for encouraging me to write and get stuff out
Thank you all! Smiles, Jenn.

---

Tears.

They run down my face.

Reminding me of loss, sadness,
even happiness at times.

Tracks of emotion, left over and over.

Furrows left behind a lifetime of evidence.

They will not stop, or even, slow.

My soul leaks out a bit at a time, overrunning my eyes.

I cry once again and move on, hiding the evidence of my emotions.

But knowing those worn lines will never go away.

Left only for me to feel over and over.

---

Illustration image by: janheath1234.wordpress.com

---

The service was Friday. I'm glad his mother didn't live to see this day. How I'd failed my only child… how I'd destroyed our wonderful son. I will be alone in my shame and sadness for the rest of my existence.

I put him in a box on Sunday. His football pads that smelled of healthy teenage boy, his grassed-stained soccer cleats, the aluminum bat he hit his first home run with. A life full of trophies. A life full of trying to please the old man. He excelled at every sport, every activity...my son. All state, All region, U.I.L. champion. In so many things my son was near superhuman. My folly; never seeing him or listening to him. He tried to tell me once, maybe twice, but I didn't get it. More stuff in the box; model cars I had bought him done to perfection, ball caps from different teams. His black leather Tommy jacket; a gift from me for his excellent grades.

His keys to the pickup I got him; a used Dodge but in good condition. It’s still in the driveway. I suppose I should do something with it, maybe sell it I guess? His many teammates were at the service; his many friends from school. But she was the only one I didn't want to see. Jennifer looked at me with contempt but said nothing. She knew my hurt because she truly knew him; he trusted her… loved her more than me and rightly so. He is packed away now; a life so full of promise, and potential gone in seconds. A horrible waste and a lesson learned too late. In so many boxes, I will finish tomorrow. I can’t face the rest just yet.

I put her in a box today; a small box, a single box. Her few pieces of jewelry from her mom. I know the pieces; I had bought them for her mother years ago. Some pink fuzzy pajamas with Pepe Le Pew on them. I have no idea where she got this stuff; probably with the help of the only friend who knew her. A red floor-length nightgown of silk and lace; so pretty and delicate. I imagine she must have looked like her mother with the honey blond hair to her shoulders. I never saw her. I never paid attention, some green running shorts and purple and white lady Nikes. A few tops; a pair of low-rise jeans.

The most precious item of course her diary; a pale yellow with sunflowers on the cover. This is where I found out about her. Her hopes and dreams, thoughts of boys. Secrets kept by her best friend forever. Passages about disappointing her father; not being able to live the life the parent wanted. Wishing only for affection and a loving embrace from her daddy. And finally a copy of the note she left me.

Dear dad.

I have got to tell you why. I am not Gavin; I am not your son. I am Genevieve your daughter, I have known for years, longer than I can remember. I tried to tell you several times but you didn't listen, you were always bragging about something I had done. I just could not keep living this lie, I was out to Jennifer she was my best friend you thought she was my girlfriend and in a sense she was. It just got too heavy…the weight; the scholarships came in; A&M football, and Corps of Cadets. I just can’t do it, and if I said no you would push me. All I want in life is to be Ginny I know you would never understand. So I can’t stay. Better to be a fallen hero than an embarrassment to you. I'm sorry, but maybe I can see mom. I'm so sorry I can’t be the son you want. There are some things that I want Jennifer to have they are in the envelope. Goodbye dad. I hope you don't hate me.

Love, your daughter Ginny.

I never knew Ginny. I never got the chance to love her, and now she is gone. I will carry the regret of my choices for the rest of my life. Goodbye my beautiful daughter. I hope you find peace.

I put my heart in a box today and sealed it forever.

---

The Crack in the Mirror.

I look into the glass
I see pain
I see despair
I see hopelessness

I look into the glass
I see imperfection
I see flaws
I see damage

I look into the glass
I see the crack
And the crack is me

---

image by freeimageslive.co.uk - Halloween

---

It's like a plague 
A monster from outside my soul
The Doubt infects my feelings 
The Doubt infects my emotions 
Doubt is pervasive
Doubt is consuming 
I am lost
I am broken

The Doubt has won.

---

Copyright: isoga / 123RF Stock Photo

---

The Muse.

She flits around here and there,
never stopping long anywhere.

Hundreds of topics titles and lines,
only snippets I'll never have time.

Emotions reeling and flowing of mind,
challenging me, never letting me blind.

She really is a part of my soul,
I would die if she ever would go.

So patiently I wait for her to alight,
for a new poem expressing my feelings tonight.

I share her creations with anyone who hears,
even when that work causes tears.

All of you have one, listen to her,
she will make things easier to bear.

Your muse is your light, the inside voice,
she will guide you, make that choice.

No one should be alone not ever,
she's forever with you and will leave you never.

---

Image from
http://www.desibucket.com/graphics/fairy/fairy-8/

---

They ran in.

The unthinkable happened.
It could not be true.
The morning got worse.
A horrific chain of events.

They ran in.

No thought of personal safety.
Save and help.
Serve and protect.
Find and rescue.

They ran in.

Doing everything they could.
Helping all.
Turning no one away.
Training and experience taking over.

They ran in.

We all watched.
Crying as they fell.
Fellow brothers and sisters.
Our hearts broken.

They ran in.

---

Dedicated to all those public safety professionals that lost their lives helping others.
Image credit: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tribute_in_Light

---

She never leaves my mind
86400 seconds a day
She never leaves my soul
1440 minutes a day
She never leaves my heart
24 hours a day
She's waiting for the day she is free
She's wanting for the day she is free

The day is coming so she counts patiently

---

Image Copyright: algol / 123RF Stock Photo

---

---

Understanding.

My friends told me it would be ok,
you would understand.

My heart told me you love me,
you would understand.

Your laughter told me I made you happy,
you would understand.

Your touch told me you cared,
you would understand.

The years told me we were strong,
you would understand.

The vows told me it was forever,
you would understand.

I told you the truth, stopped the lies,
you didn't understand.

I confided in you and lost it all,
I don't understand.

---

Image Copyright (c)

123RF Stock Photos.