One thing about knowing that there's a 50/50 chance on any given night here I might have to bid farewell to my gender again is that it has spurred me to take advantage of the situation. Kitty and I don't agree on a lot of things and we don't cooperate well at tasks like cooking, cleaning or grocery shopping, but there is one thing we have done well since the beginning. And I'm almost afraid to talk about it because of who might be reading.
I don't want to compare Kitty and Meghan, because it's like apples and oranges. What Meghan and I had... Physically, emotionally, spiritually, I will probably never get again. That doesn't change the fact that I screwed it up, and it also doesn't change the fact that more or less I'm "with" Kitty now. She clearly has decades of sedate, unfulfilling married life to get out of her system, memories of a long term partner who took her for granted, a new lease on life thanks to her transformation... Shit, it's no wonder she seems so reluctant to give it up.
It's clear that Kitty enjoys looking like Greta, the statuesque stunning Scandinavian type. To be frank, I think changing one's body can be healthy. Even if yours is perfectly good, having a new one for a while can reinvigorate your love for yourself. This doesn't just go for Kitty. I feel like Meghan's time as Tasha - another tall blonde buxom stunner - helped open her up a bit more. When she went back to being herself, she was a whole new woman, even though she was coming back to her same old self.
And for what it's worth, I still believe Meghan, the real one, is the most attractive woman I've ever laid my eyes on. Once, late at night as we were drifting off to sleep she asked if I would have preferred her looking like Tasha (supposing that was,an option, which it wasn't.) I took a look at her dark chocolate brown hair, cut just short enough to sweep over her eyes in that mischievous was, masking the glint that came from knowing she,was whip smart but not bragging about it... And I placed my hand on her hip, tgat wild extreme cutve that always invited me in... And I told her honestly, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart, absolutely not. But I loved her in whatever package I could have her in. I would see the beauty in her anywhere.
Maybe the Inn screws with people's minds, their chemistry, their sexualities, but some things as are beyond even that. I felt great affection in my heart for her when we were both women, when I was younger and smaller and slighter than her, and we were not blood relations but close enough that it would have been a scandal. I grappled with that every day, even as I could feel Lauren's body pulling me into the psyche of a heterosexual teenage girl. And getting to fulfill that desire, even for a short time, made the whole misadventure a tad more worthwhile.
Bit things happened the way they did, my nature got the better of me. If I was a trifle less stubborn I reckon I could have stayed and worked it out. She was a sensible person. I was the damn fool who lost her. I ought to make my peace with that. It ain't likely I'll get the chance to put things right.
So here I am, lying next to Kitty/Greta in the early morning light on an August morning in Maine. Knowing it would hurt Meghan to see me with someone who looks this way. And knowing neither of us will look this way for much longer.