I guess I asked for it.

"You have to understand that all the things you post in your blog will be seen by the politically correct.  You're not politically correct.  It's kinda like you're being a racist."

These genuine utters stung, bringing on an anaphylactic crying session.  To know that Papi and all the other transgender people, Rah-Rah Tranny folks, Tranny lovers etc. would think that I'm that evil, and that my expressing a cacophony of antipathy could hurt another, stopped me from being able to show my face, even to my love.

My love continued, "I don't see why you don't read more about this so that you're informed." 

like tiny little soldiers we all fall in line ...

I had to be honest with my love, "I really have trouble reading online to better my life.  I have files of links on my computer for things I need to read about from the music industry, how to market better, and learn more for my music production.  I don't even read those, and those are things that are part of learning more for my music.  So, if I haven't even read these things, then I won't get to reading up on transgender issues and how to be politically correct."

No.

I don't read online and learn. 

i didn't ask for this to be my life ...

The only things I like to read are stories that take me so far from reality that I can't come back.

dragons, wizards and magic ... just like magic, sometimes i wish they could wave a wand and poof! i'd disappear ... never again to harm another ...

I cried tears thinking of all the people who have read my instantaneous feelings of the moment.  My fledgling ramblings of how I perceive the transgender world.

My political incorrectness that harms others, when really it stems from ignorance and fear.

Yes.

Same damn thing as racism.

So.

I'm evil.

The very thing that I fear in other people, that is what I am.

I will ask more questions so that I may learn to be what everyone I've bruised wishes I would be.

It won't bring back the haters that have already made their minds up about how hideous I am.  But I can learn from this, so that I may not damage another living being.

It was never my intention.

I'm aching thinking that another person would be injured I through my words.

The lashing of Papi's tongue has put me down to the dog's mat.  I'll just curl up here for a while and lick my wounds.

One thing that changed last night.  As the tears fell so hard that i felt it coming from my toes, reaching through every vein, strangling my throat until they finally reached my eyes to fall, Papi finally held me.

I haven't been able to lie upon my love's chest since the top surgery.

It used to be my favourite place.

It used to be how we'd end the day.

It used to allow me to hear my love's heart beat and feel that it was beating for me.

I haven't felt that in months.

However, because of the tears that were so obviously painful in hearing the truth about how hideous I could be, mi esposo finally gave me back my chest.

Definitely not as cushiony as it used to be.

Not the butch's breast that I could lie upon for support.

Flat.

Barren.

Yet still that heart beat could be heard.

And so could the echos of my love's prior verbal beatings.

It was Papi's truth.

Never meant to hurt, but only to be heard.

And so, I see how I've hurt another.