Tyler/Judith: Spa Day

So, back in December, Kitty got me a Spa Day as a gift. It was a nice thought, keeping with our (not totally successful) pact to get each other gifts we didn't have to leave with these lives, and I know it was a really special gift, but I had to convince myself to get into it. Don't get me wrong, I love to relax and I could do with being pampered, but... well, I guess part of me thought that somehow it was all too girly to have mudbaths and cucumber facemasks and whatever. Which is absurd. My existence should probably prove that "girly" and "manly" don't really mean much in the grand scheme of things. Should having a vagina mean that I should be interested in a spa treatment? Maybe not. But should the fact that I once had a penis be a reason not to enjoy it? As if someone was going to take away my "man card"?

I was still a bit bashful and putting it off because, well, I didn't want to go alone. And part of me thought maybe Kitty would like me to ask him along and we could do a "couples" thing, but he specifically didn't buy a couples' package, so I thought... there's an opportunity here, to reach out to someone I haven't seen in a while.

My sister, Carrie.

Growing up, I was always very close with her, because my brothers were older they were mostly out of the house by the time she was born, and I was already growing into a bit of a black sheep. We stuck close together until I left the South for good a few years ago - so much so that she followed me to the Inn and wound up in Meghan's body. (Sometimes I wonder about the near-miss there... what if she had become me? Leaving aside the awkwardness of her living in her big bro's body for nearly a year, I would have been sure to get it back, and then what? We'll never know.) Distance, and the craziness of living with a magical body-transforming curse, kind of cooled communication between us... as did the fact that she was more sympathetic to Meg (the sister she never had, essentially) when we split... not that I blame her, I was an ass.

I could have invited Meg, but even though the lines of communication are open there, I still wasn't sure I could handle reaching out that way. Carrie, though, has been an important person for almost my whole life. Not being in touch with her feels wrong. And the fact that she's the only person who knew me well before the Inn who also knows my secret is also pretty important. Not everybody gets to have that.

And she had been on my case to let her meet me as Judith at least once.

She was happy to visit, she really fell for New England during her time here, and managed to roll a visit with Meg into the deal. She spent the night there before driving down to Concord to see me.

When she arrived and I opened the door, I caught this look in her eye, like she was afraid of who was going to answer - she knows her favorite brother is now a woman (again) and a bit older with a Kid, and she follows along the blog as best she can. There was nothing for her to be afraid of, but I guess there was still that sinking feeling in your gut you get when you try to square your mental image of someone, who you think they are, with who they appear to be now. She audibly gasped.

"Care!" I grinned.

"Ty!" she threw her arms around me in a warm hug. She's grown into a fine woman, really looking like she's got it together, and even in her sweater and coat she looked... well, I guess radiant is the word. If I didn't have Judith's Portuguese toasted-marshmallow complexion, we might even look like sisters. We were eye to eye for the first time in our entire lives.

"I can't believe this is you!" she said while we were still clinched together. "I mean, you live like this, you look like this! I know you've been here for a while... and you've been a girl before, but... this is so unreal!"

"Tell me about it," I said, practically tearing up, "Sometimes I forget, and then remember... how crazy my life is. All that I've been through."

She separated and took a good look at my face. She seemed to like what she saw.

"I think you're crazy, you don't look old at all," she said, referring to certain remarks I've made about Judith's looks on the blog and in private, "Not a day over forty!"

"Uh, I'm not forty," I said, knowing she was just ribbing me.

"And your hair looks beautiful, so silky and long..."

"Thanks, it's hard work."

I showed her around the house, Kit was having breakfast in the kitchen and was very cordial - cornily kissing her hand. Carrie, like many of you, has gotten my mixed reviews about Kit, but we are getting to a real honeymoon phase so I permitted myself to gush about how good things have been lately.

"The sex you two must have, I bet it's wild..." she giggled. I told her the less said the better, reminding her I'm still her sibling. Kit looked vaguely shocked, and personally I was a bit too to hear my little sis talk that way, but I disguised it.

Then I brought her to meet the Kid. "Hi there, you must be Olivia... or should I say Dylan."

Dylan looked suspicious. "Um... hi."

"Dyl, I told you before, my sister would be coming by. My real sister. She knows all about us because she's been through it too."

"Oh right," she said. "So, you're, like... my aunt?"

"Um, okay! Let's call me that." Carrie smiled. She had a gift for Dylan, some chocolate - she admitted she wasn't sure what to bring, but I assured her that the Kid definitely has a sweet-tooth. I explained the Kid's bashfulness by explaining my theory that she likes to pretend she was never a guy, because it makes things easier, so talking to people who know she is formerly a guy makes him self-conscious about his girly trappings.

Reflecting on the fact that I was walking my sister around the house in ladies' apparel and heels, I had to admit there was a point there.

We drove to the spa together. I asked how the family back home was doing, and she said about what I would have expected... this nephew is starting high school, that nephew made quarterback, apples of their daddies' eyes. Apparently I've got a niece who is turning out to be a bit of a punk rock rebel (and her parents suspect, a lesbian,) which I am genuinely sorry to be absent for.

I took a deep breath. "Look, if there's any news about the other Tyler... I don't think I want to hear it, okay? It's really hard, and I think life is easier if I just pretend he's not out there." Perhaps I was taking a page from the book of Dylan.

"Well, that's ok," she said, "Because there's no news as far as I know. He lit out long ago and never looked back."

"Good, I guess," I huffed.

"Can't say I blame him either," Carrie sighed, "Your old friends beat him nearly to death, stabbed him, ran him over, left him on life support... Guess he got the message that he wasn't wanted in 'Bama."

"Uh huh," I huffed.

"Scary to think that could have been you," she said.

"I wouldn't have been so stupid," I said. "They weren't going to leave Alabama to find me, bigger fish to fry. But he was an asshole who got what he deserved." My tone was getting pretty serious and I could tell it was spooking Carrie, who never liked knowing about my, er, sketchy past. I added, "I would have gone back. Even with that hanging over my head, I never would have hesitated. It's his fault for not playing ball."

"Okay, okay, you don't need to convince me," she said. "So now nobody in the family knows where he is, and we kind of... just don't talk about it."

"Mhmmm," I muttered. I would have suspected that none of them would miss me much if I just fell off the face of the Earth. Sure I was family but I was the Family Screw-up, someone that was a bit of a problem, even when I was doing fine.

We arrived at the spa soon after and changed the topic to more exciting matters... she asked me how I liked being a "mommy" and I gave her some of my observations, made a few jokes about how I got the easiest part of it and how I'm lucky I wasn't stuck with a toddler.

We signed in and were ushered to the change room to put on our plush white robe.

I looked around... there wasn't many ways to hide, so I blushed a bit and faced backwards.

"You're so awkward," she snickered behind me. "Same stiff old you in there."

"I'm sorry I don't really want to see my sister naked," I sighed.

"Whatever, we're all girls here," she said. "You're a married woman and I don't have anything you don't see in the mirror every day."

I angled my head just so that she could at least see the glare in my eyes, "That was true when I was a man and I didn't make a point to look around the change room then either."

"Okay, fine," she said after a second, "You can turn around now."

I did - except she was messing with me, standing there waiting for me, with her hands on her hips laughing her fool head off, naked as the day she was born and on display. "Damnit, Carrie, not funny!"

I shielded my eyes, but thought I had seen something that caused me to look through my fingers at her.

I gasped. "You're pregnant!" Somehow it struck me and I was sure, rather than having to ask.

I might not have noticed if I weren't a woman - call it intuition or whatever, but I guess I'm attuned to these things now, even if I didn't exactly have a photographic memory for how Carrie usually looked. The change was subtle, but telling. It didn't look like normal "weight gain."

"Wow, glad you finally noticed," she smiled, "I only had to strip naked for you to tell."

"How long?"

"Three months and a bit," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're not supposed to tell anyone before three months," she said, "And I was working up to it."

"And this is how you chose to tell me."

"Oh, just channeling my inner Beyoncé I guess," she laughed, cinching up her robe.

"This is huge," I said, then frowned at the implications. "The father?"

"He's around," she said, dodgily, "He's a good guy. We're gonna make it work."

"Oh, Carrie," I sighed, deflated.

"Don't give me that," she said a bit more harshly, "This is my call. I'm happy with it. I want this."

"You want this," I said back, "Fine. No lectures here."

"Good," she said. "See you out there."

Mostly my head was spinning almost too much to enjoy the spa... I say almost because having your every body part tended to does manage to put one in a relaxed state of mind. Maybe she's still little sis to me, but I warmed up to it. She's got a good job and if this guy is as stable as she says, it could work out.

Really, I'm the last person who should be telling anyone how to live their lives... I've had four of them and they're all messed up. I suppose I might be good for some parenting advice, but really I got a very unique perspective on that so I'm not sure my observations are much help.

As we drove home, refreshed, rejuvenated and relaxed, she asked what was next. I told her, we have a big scheme to get everybody back to their rightful place and I think we have a decent shot at pulling it off... except me and Kitty, who don't have rightful places anymore, so I reckon we'll just... keep floating.

"And Kitty's a good person to float with?"

I smiled a bit, almost as if I was surprised to hear myself say, "Actually, yeah. He's been good lately, I think that's the kinda person I need in my life sometimes."

She leaned over and gave me a big hug. "I never would have pictured it. I mean, none of this of course... you looking like this, acting like this... but I know it's you in there. I can still tell. You're doing a good job, Ty."

"Thanks," I said. "I can hardly believe it myself."

As she left, she looked back and smiled, "I always wanted a sister. You make a good one."

I sighed and smiled wearily, "I'll take that as a compliment."

Tyler/Judith: The Good Times

There was a comment on my last post that had a very rough appraisal of Kitty. And while he's got his faults, I probably don't help his case much by giving a bit of a skewed portrayal of him on this blog. You hear about the fights, the blow-ups, the times he makes me feel... less than happy about our arrangement. But there's a lot in between, long spans where we're joking around and comfortable and surprisingly happy.

It's true, our dynamic is a bit of a strange one. He's a 20-some years older than me and has certain values that have, well, persisted through our varying ages and genders over the course of our year (!!) together.*

*That's right, it's coming up on one year since I blundered into Alan and Greta's apartment in Milwaukee and found her there - it was a while later that we started our fling and while we haven't exactly been consistently "together" since then, we've never really left each other's side, so... make of it what you will. Believe me, classifications become a lot less meaningful when your life is like this.

It's easier to pin down the times when we disagree, when things aren't good... and maybe I'm a bit of a pessimist, a grump, (a bitch?) that I can dwell on that side of it a bit more, vent when I need to... but that doesn't mean it's always like that. Yes, it rubbed me the wrong way when he asked me to work less, but it's not like he was asking me to stop working altogether so he could keep me barefoot in the kitchen (I think.) Do I think it's a bit silly that he wants to feel like the head of the household? Sure. But I'd be lying if I said that trying to keep up an increased level of workload as well as keeping the house clean and meals prepared wouldn't potentially be one notch too much stress. (Judith's body is pretty prone to headaches and fatigue, in case you've forgotten... and if you'd ever tasted Kit's cooking, you'd volunteer to be the chef too.) And the less said about our Valentine's flap, which kind of demonstrated how we never really leave our old selves behind, no matter what we look like, the better.

But there are good times. They just tend to be quiet. Nights at home watching some crummy movie, making snarky comments between the dialogue, or just driving around listening to the radio. He loves to go shopping and beg me to buy things that he wishes he could still wear himself, half-seriously (I have to remind him that Judith and Adrian don't exactly have the budget that Kitty and Chett did.) While I mock the quirkier aspects of female clothes.

The best example came this past Friday night. Maybe he was still feeling some fallout from Valentine's, but that's neither here nor there. It was "surprise date night." I got dressed up all nice in a flowing purple dress, with lipstick and jewelry and all that, and I get in the car with him... and he's in a suit and tie, quite dashing. And I notice in the backseat of the Chevy, an overnight bag.

"Um..." I say, "Are we staying somewhere? Because I didn't make any arrangements for the Kid..."

"Nope," he beams, "That's our real outfits for the evening."

"Our real..." I say, "Kit, what are you talking about?"

"You'll see," he gets this impish grin as we drive a while, and a while further, and then finally we arrive two towns over at this... Country Bar. This really hokey looking linedancing joint. I was shaking my head but couldn't help smiling despite myself. Over the months, I've talked a bit about the kinds of places I used to hang out in my youth - and while I have a real conflicted relationship with the part of the country I'm from, there's a certain fondness, a nostalgia that sets in (God help me) when you realize you'll probably never be back (assuming the Inn never puts me in the body of a southerner again).

Not that I was necessarily surprised that the Granite State has its own rednecks complete with redneck bars (some native, some transplants, some truckers just passing through.)

"Sorry about the deception," he said, "I thought if I told you what to wear it might tip you off to my surprise. You like it, don't you?"

"I actually do," I said, feeling flattered that Kitty would go to such lengths to bring me a slice of home.

In the overnight bag were a man's and woman's pair of light blue jeans, plaid shirts, and cowboy boots. We changed behind the car - another somewhat uncharacteristically wild choice from Kit. I pulled my jeans on under my skirt and then slipped it off in the cold air to replace it with the overshirt.

"Where's the hat?" I said, "You're gonna look mighty out of place without one."

Nevertheless, in we went. The jukebox was playing the old shit from Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, George Strait, Reba... We had Po' Boys and drank shitty beer, I showed him some line-dancing steps. I even outlasted him on the mechanical bull (8.5 seconds versus his 5.1... maybe it's a center of gravity thing ;)) Mostly we drank and danced and laughed as we both awkwardly tried to lead.

We left the car there and took a cab home. The whole night put me very "in the mood," so the foreplay started in the car, but when we got to the house I found, much to both of our dismay, that Adrian's body was, um, maybe a bit too "tired."

So I did something I didn't necessarily think I would have to do, but hadn't closed my mind to if the situation arose. I brought my mouth down southward. That woke him up in a hurry, so I didn't have to linger that long, which was good because it wasn't something I really wanted to spend the rest of the evening doing. From there it was a bit of a quick finish, and I asked him to try not to go to sleep so that we could go again.

So we cuddled, and talked a bit, until he was ready to go again. The second time is always better - longer, steadier, more passionate... not that I necessarily mind "quick and dirty," but this body isn't as responsive to that.

Anyway, my point is, it was a nice night. A real nice night, the kind we really ought to have more often (but we can't exactly haul our asses out to the middle of nowhere for a random bar night every weekend.) I don't want it to feel like I'm faking it or I have to bend over backwards to convince myself that I like being with this person, to explain why I don't just bail like I have so many times before. It may not be perfect, but it's a good life we've got for ourselves.

-TJ

Tyler/Judith: Who is the man, here?

To "seal the deal," as it were, for my new relationship with Kitty, I invited him along to the 30th Anniversary that I had been planning for work for Saturday night. It was fair as planner that I got to bring along a guest, and I wanted him to see me in my element. I got to wear a headset to co-ordinate the servers and cooks and bartenders... not that I'm a micromanager by any means, but it was cool to be able to direct traffic. Looking around at the floral arrangements, the catering, the whole thing ticking like clockwork... I was quite pleased with what I had done for my first effort.

"This is all very impressive," Kitty said, observing the venue. I noticed with a bit of disappointment that he his eyes trailed slightly along with the nubile young female relatives of the happy couple... but then, so did I.

"I know," I said, brushing that away, "Thirty years, who would have thought?"

"I can't remember what Chett and I did for our last big anniversary. Dinner, I guess." There was such a note of sadness, or at least distance, in his voice.

It wasn't an ideal memory to call up - we do sometimes bring up our exes around each other, but not usually when we're in good spirits. I don't talk much about my time before the Inn at all, and even try not to refer to Meg very often (we are on what I think are good terms, for us.)

Other than that, the night was largely a success with great food and plenty of booze. We took a long walk in the cold after getting home.

He seemed very distracted, lost in thought, so I thought I would bring him back down to Earth with a kiss. It seemed to wake him up and we headed home quickly so we could engage in our favourite new hobby. He's getting better. We're getting better at it.

Afterwards, naked and sweaty and cuddling, he asked me if I liked Judith's work.

"Sure," I said. "It's pretty involved, lots of moving parts. Rewarding in its own way, when you get to see the end result."

"A-huh," he said. "I just worry, you know. I make plenty of money for both of us, and... well, Chett was a bit of a workaholic."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know. I like things the way they were. You mostly at home, waiting for me when my day was done. I don't want you to slip away and become a... too much of a career gal."

"Excuse me?" I said, rather offended.

"I just don't want this to become your whole life. I mean, we're out of here in the Spring, right? Why upset the status quo if that was working? I just think if more opportunities like this come up, you should think twice before jumping at the opportunity. We've got a good thing."

I was upset by this - hurt and confused - but I'm doing this new thing where I try not to react right away, and instead of getting angry and violent (not as in hitting, just as in yelling and slamming of doors,) I try to be... calm about it. I think estrogen is a good medicine for that (although not a cure-all by any means!)

"I... listen. I wanted to do this. I was getting bored. I'll be bored again. And there are a lot of upsides. Judith encourages me to help her career path along because it's what she wants to be doing... and it helps us put away a bit more money for our own lives, wherever that takes us. It's win-win."

He considered what I had said but only for a second. "We don't need the money."

I was starting to get flustered. "Well, we're not exactly... you know, I would think you were used to having a bit more."

"What I'm more used to is... a man who works, and a wife who takes care of the home."

Sometimes I think Kitty is even older than her 50-some years. Like she's from my Grandmother's generation. But I guess when you're used to having money, your values stay that way a little longer.

My heart sank a bit. I'm trying to be better, understand, compromise on things. So I admitted that while I may have had a knack for Judith's job, and I didn't really see the harm in increasing my presence there... I would consider her perspective. If it's important enough for her to bring it up, you know. There was still a little bit of Tyler inside of me that really didn't like being told what to do, but the "New Me" is trying to, well, overcome that a bit. I can be a wifey. Sure.

So after that, time passes and things get a bit more routine. I'm learning to swallow my pride and be more co-operative where Kitty is concerned, and play along with this "Housewife" routine, and really, it has its perks. It's hard as a man, a proud man, to admit you don't mind being looked after financially, to take pride in playing Suzie Homemaker, but it's tough work and deserves to be admired.

He's pretty appreciative.

By that I mean he wants to screw, like, all the time. He goes for it just about every night. And it's kind of nice to be in the position where it's up to my whim whether we do or not. It's been a strange few years, with my sex drive being cranked up and down... like I'm sorry to say, even though I do enjoy the rush and the new pleasure of finally exploring this aspect of Judith's body, I just don't... need it that badly (I figure this is just a feature of Judith's body, why I was able to go months without even really thinking about it.) Not that I want him begging for it, just... it's a thing. Sometimes I do it even if I'm not feeling like it, and the results are usually "fine, but need we have bothered?"

Anyway. Before you know it, it's Valentine's Day, and... well, this is his first Valentine's Day as a man. And we realized the Saturday before it that we didn't have any plans. So he asks me what I want to do and I say I don't really care, it's midweek so we're usually pretty tired, and there's Dylan to think about and... well, should we even bother?

And he says of course, we're a couple, we love each other don't we? (I'm still grappling with whether I do or not, but... sure, let's say I do.) We should make a big deal, celebrate "us" and how far we've come. And I say okay, whatever he's up for, I'll do my part: sexy dress, lacey underwear, red lipstick, seduction, the whole nine yards (I'm didn't say as much but that was what I implied) if he works out something for us to do that night. And he turns it around on me and says "Why didn't you plan anything?"

So it's like... excuse me, what's my part here? Am I on the hook for everything because I used to be a man and stereotypically that would have been my job? He was the one who wanted to get into a more traditional husband-wife setup. I don't deserve to be "treated"? What's the rule? What does he want from me? And do I want the same things?

It's not that I don't care about V-tine's Day, I can be as romantic as anyone when I'm really head over heels, but... something about our situation already feels so lived-in and old-shoe comfortable that it didn't occur to me. I'd be happy with a night in, but it seems like that wasn't enough.

Again, instead of making it a big thing, I just kind of sat quietly and pouted about it... and so did he. It was a tense few hours, and then we got over ourselves and made some arrangements, and... it was nice, we left Dyl with Sam and went to a French restaurant (my suggestion as we've handled events there and it has a good reputation - so I guess he got me to plan something after all) He was very lovey-dovey, picked me up some roses and a necklace to wear for the night, and got his seduction, and now things are fine. (I also got him some flowers, which he seemed to enjoy more than I enjoyed mine, and a tie.)

But I've just been racking my brain for a few days since, trying to figure it all out. Nothing's been resolved and I feel like this is going to keep being a problem. It's left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I'm trying to hide it a bit and convince myself it's just an awkward growing phase as we try to figure out exactly how things are supposed to work between us.

If we really do love each other, we can get through it... I'm sure...

-TJ

Jordan/"Missy" Yuan-Wei: Boyfriends

I don't have any records of how long I ever lasted with any chick in my original life, but I think Jacky Lau may be the longest relationship I've ever had.  Benjamin suggests that this should have an asterisk, since roughly half of that time has had us in different hemispheres, but I kind of call bullshit on that.  After all, if we were living in the same city, he wouldn't have the chance to forget just what kind of body he could be waking up next to.  Temptation increases with distance, right?

It makes the reunion more exciting, too.  I wouldn't exactly say it was sexual torture being away from him for the fall semester, but it did feel damn good to put on a push-up bra, fuck-me heels, and a tight dress to go down the arcade, where Jacky had just talked about hanging out, though I don't think he minded heads turning to his girlfriend and him at all.  I'm admittedly not at my best gaming in that outfit - even now, when I get in front of a fighting game, I kind of want to take a wide stance and use my size to establish dominance, for instance - but it pepped him up and made it very clear what the real highlight of the night was going to be.

I introduced him to my "mother" Chen-ai the day before Christmas, and I don't know whether she was more being playful or trying to do something to break us up when she asked if Ernesto knew about Jacky.  Yes, I said, my classmates know I've got a boyfriend back home.  It got a bit weird when she kept pressing the point, especially since she seemed to suspect I had slept with him; did she just assume that's how it went on a set?  Jacky didn't rise to the bait, not even when she mentioned that Inspector Yee had visited a few weeks ago, although she assured both of us that she made sure to mention my carelessness, so that it would be clear that what happened to Father was at worst an accident.

I blew up at her after Jacky left, something that felt like it was a long time coming, wanting to know just why the fuck she would say that to her daughter's boyfriend.  She tutted about how I was so rude these days, that America must be a bad influence on me.  I was tempted to give her the "you have no idea" line, but instead hit back with something about how, maybe, me being over there made her realize just how alone she was always going to be before storming off to my room, trying to calculate the time difference to Montreal to figure out whether I should call René or email.

I wound up emailing to be on the safe side, then heading back into the city.  I tried to phone Jacky on the way but it went straight to voice mail - he can get more tunnel-vision-y than me when gaming - so decide, fuck it, I'll just go dancing myself.

Benjamin thinks I should feel sort of bad about hitting a club solo now that I've got a boyfriend, but for me it's kind of a practical thing more than disloyalty.  I may just be there to dance and drink and show off, but lots of guys don't necessarily see buying me a drink as fair payment for getting to look at me in that dress as opposed to a down payment on getting it off, and even being with a string bean like Jacky or another girl will cut that shit down.  You've also gotta watch your drink like a hawk, because stuff that didn't seem like a big deal when it was my fraternity brothers doing it is not flying with me these days.

Despite all that, I still like getting sexy and flirting; the knowledge that I could fuck any of these guys if I felt like it rather than maybe settling for someone's less-hot friend if I'm lucky is almost as intoxicating as the booze, and sometimes you just want to bounce around to music even if you're by yourself, just as a release.  I probably didn't have that much to get out - who gives a shit what some woman I've seen like four times in the year and a half I've known her thinks just because she gave birth to the original Yuan-wei? - but it felt good, right up until I saw Bingbing inhaling some guy's face and figured, fuck it, might as well force the issue after months of trying to be tactful electronically.

So I downed my drink, put a smile on my face, and was like "Chen Bingbing?  It's been forever!  And who is this kind of decent-looking guy?  I don't recall hearing about you and my brother breaking up!"

Bingbing looked annoyed, but close to match my bitchiness.  "Wow, what a weird thing for an only child to ask, Yuan-wei!  Keep up with these delusions and people will think you're nuts!"

I held my phone up.  "Well, if Max doesn't exist, then I guess this text message and the YouTube link inside it will just get bounced right back to me!"

It was a bluff, but Bingbing didn't seem to know that.  "Fine, let's go have a smoke."  She started walking to the door, telling her dance partner not to wait, even if he really is better than kind of decent-looking.  After a quick stop at the coast check to get her purse, we stood out on the sidewalk.  She quickly lit up, took a long drag, and blew the smoke in my face.  Bitch move, but I coughed a bit anyway.  "So," she said, "what do you know?"

"The real Bingbing says you're Giorgia Wong, and if that's the case, Google says you're 44 years old, come from Chinatown, two time loser, divorced three times, no kids.  Facebook suddenly takes a nosedive and switches entirely to English in 2014.  The person using it now says you've basically abandoned your old life.  Good match for you and your sister pulling the ultimate dick move and convincing René and Romain that going back to the Inn will kill them.  Whose idea was that, you or Carlotta?"

She didn't actually answer, just pointed out that I said "the real Bingbing" when I was just talking about her, but when the changes involved both of us, the people in Montreal were suddenly "René et Romain".  I started to explain, but she cut me off.  "I'm just saying, you did the same thing when you got that hot little bod that I did - you saw a chance for a fresh start way ahead of where you were at Yuan-wei's age and fucking took it.  Sure, Carlotta told you it was okay, but so what?  You chose to be yourself instead of Deirdre when you first went to the Inn, you made a choice, and we choose to have good lives rather than the ones we had which sucked.  And if we have to lie a little to do it without hearing them fucking whine about it for the rest of our lives, so be it!"

"And Max?"

"Well, at first that was just me being pissed off - Carlotta was going to transfer to NYU at the same time I did so we could be classmates, but she goes and freaks out over Yuan-wei's father, and living in Hong Kong, and, like, how kids in their twenties do all that social media shit and abandons me, and then I meet the brother of the guy who took her place?  Watching you fall all over yourself to hang out with us but having your skin crawl every time Max looked at your tits was just funny! Although, let me tell you, if you ever come around on not being related any more, and want to get close, I wouldn't blame you - he's really sweet and his dick--"

She went on about that subject.

"-- so tell him.  I'll just say I was lonely and sorry and call you a bitch for stabbing me in the back like that.  He'll feel great that I chose him over a lifelong friend and he'll fucking hate you.  Trust me on this, I've known how to get men to do shit longer than you've been alive."  With that, she flicked her cigarette butt into the gutter and smiled.  "God, it felt good to let that all out!  I just never get a chance to do that now that Carlotta is spending all her time being a good 'Sandy' since you outed her.  We've got to hang out more - call me when you figure out your New Year's plans!"

Yeah, like hell.

After that, I decided I really needed to get the hell out of Dodge for a while, even if I had booked a flight and hotel so that René and Romain could visit HK for the first time since they went to the Inn.  I guess I was kind of lucky that they apparently were a little nervous about that themselves, because when I suggested that the for of us (me, them, Jacky) head to Australia instead, they liked the idea.  Jacky thought it was kind of weird, since I don't get much time at "home", what with going to school in America, but how to explain how little it was feeling like home that week?

I booked René and Romain a round trip that would basically fit in between their flights from Montreal, so we met at the airport, but didn't have a lot of time to talk; owing to the last-minute nature of the reservations, we wound up scattered throughout the first-class cabin, and then a crowded bus for our ride from the airport and hotel in Melbourne, then...  Well, by then it was evening and Jacky and I opted to take advantage of not having mothers or roommates nearby.

One side effect of going to Melbourne instead of staying in Hong Kong was that there was a lot less time for chatting with René and Romain about how to handle actually knowing about each other; if we'd stayed in HK, there would have been times when Jacky was just of doing his own thing or at home, but making it a couples' vacation meant he was always around.  Normally, pretty nice, but it meant I didn't really have a moment alone with either of the other Inn people until the third day, when we're sitting on a beach and Jacky & René run off to fetch us some ice cream.  Romain and I are both in swimsuits, but I don't really feel like that's rude or anything until he says I'm looking good.

"Well, I did inherit some good genes."

"You don't have to say that."

"It's true!  I watched the guy living my life drop a hundred pounds, and by the time I was done being Deirdre, I'd gotten kind of soft.  It's different this time.  Maybe I'm still enough of a guy that I like the sight of a naked hottie in the mirror every morning, but that can't be all of it."

"Mm."  Way he looked at me was different, and not just because he's gay.  He was studying me the way I do Benny and wondering.

"Look, if you really want--"

"Of course I want that!  I mourned that body when Carlotta said there was no going back, and ever since meeting you, I wake up every morning trying to figure out how to arrange it, and if it were just me...  Have you ever been in love with your best friend?"

"I've, uh, had a crush."

"Me and René is crazy - we were kind of disgusted that the Inn made us into a gay couple, but we had no-one else, and, like, now I can't be without him, and I've spent the last few months coming up with ways we could go back, but even if you don't back out, only I can, and then, what, we hope he lucks into becoming a straight guy where the fact that his English isn't nearly as good as his French, Mandarin, or Cantonese isn't a problem?"

"You guys could probably make something work--"

"We're making this work, but I know what I could have had, and been, and I kind of hate that you and René get along, because what if he actually kind of likes girls a little?  What if that's why he was so supportive those months I was doing the drag thing...  Then I think of my Dad and how the police are still poking around even though the case is closed, and I think about getting my life back and going to jail..."

He stopped there, and we looked at each other, both kind of thinking that we weren't getting what we wanted it off this conversation.  Like, we were going to sit down, talk, and he was either going to say "oh, I'm too in love with René and settled into this life to ever think about getting the life I was born with back, enjoy fucking Jacky and spending my money with a clear conscience!" or him making an argument that has me saying "ah, well, easy come, easy go".  No, instead the situation is still complicated and we both know it.

At least Romain's face seemed to legitimately light up when René got back, and is weirdly cute to watch two guys whose bodies are in their mid-twenties goofing around with their ice cream like they were actually what I look like.  Jacky started getting a bit uncomfortable when it became kissing, to the point of asking me whether all that time in America got me used to that, and I kind of wanted to say, dude, I grew up in New York, but, obviously, I can't.  It at least got him feeling kind of competitive, though, and while we didn't quite wind up making out on the beach, he did pick me up and toss me in the water.  It involved a little huffing and puffing and promising to work out a bit more,  even if I wouldn't see the results until Spring Break.

Anyway, the rest of vacation was cool - there's lots of signs in Chinese around Melbourne, so Jacky and René could keep up with Romain and I without a whole lot of trouble, we all did little girly squeals meeting koala and kangaroos and penguins (okay, maybe not Jacky), and we got to celebrate the New Year before anyone else, practically.  There's a ton of good food and streetcars and museums and stuff, too.  I highly recommend the trip.  Heck, I won't lie; I might start thinking about it long-term after graduation, depending what my Hong Kong and American situations are.

It was a bummer that it ended; knowing I'd only talk to Jacky, René, and Romain online during the spring semester sucked, although I've been kept busy enough for that not to be a huge problem.

-Jordo/Yuan-wei/"Missy"

Tyler/Judith: If you're going to do it, do it right

The whole business between me a Kitty the other night wasn't really as simple as throwing some confetti in the air and announcing to the world, "Hooray, I like sex now!" From the moment it ended I was grappling with the heavy implications of what I had done, or let happen. Good for Simon for finding random encounters that he can dabble with without long term connections. I have to see this person every day, and I hadn't even officially said I really wanted to be with them.

I wouldn't say my immediate feeling was 100% disappointment or regret, but those were parts of it. Disappointment because it was... more cathartic than sexually enjoyable. And you only get that once. He wasn't good, and I wasn't good. He got "in" and didn't hardly know how to move before the clock ran out. And I was, well... not that accommodating either. But is bad sex even really bad? Just... you know, different. Not what was expected, necessarily.

He apologized profusely, and I said it wasn't necessary. It happened to everyone, and just because Kitty appears to be a man of a certain age, we know he does not have the expected level of experience for that person. On the contrary, we're total beginners, here. And I think we know how much of a learning curve there is for this sorta thing. Just ask Maggie Dolan down in Mobile about 16-year-old Tyler Blake.

As to regret, well, the thought occurred to me that I had wrecked a good thing. That there was a way to get through the rest of our term here without complicating it with sex and emotions. That even if he really does love me, that maybe that love would be better off waiting for a time when we don't have such a complex dynamic. I've been known to screw up and bail when things go poorly, and right now too many peoples' lives depend on me to fall prey to that urge. (Kit's advice: so just don't this time.) And I'd be lying if I said my male pride didn't like the idea of outlasting the female body without ever crossing that threshold. But I think even readers who have never crossed the gender barrier will understand that when you have a new appliance, you can only go so long before the temptation to see how it really works overwhelms you. It don't make me less of a man, it just makes me human.

"I don't regret it," I said... probably not that reassuring. I initiated it, I pointed myself at it. I wanted it. I knew he would have me anytime I allowed it to happen, and I knew it just... had to be this way. So how can I regret it? Better this way.

So we're gonna do it again, as is our right as consenting adults. I went to the drug store, to the marital aid aisle (for my pill, initially,) and decided to pick up some accessories. Nothin' fancy, but some stuff that might make your sunday school teacher blush. Condoms, obviously. A lot of em. I'd consider the pill - I heard it'd help ease some of my symptoms, while screwing with other parts of my biochemistry. Not willing to make that trade yet, and honestly not sure it's worth the investment at this time. I also bought a few varieties of lubrication... even if the rubbers are lubricated, Judith's body is no spring chicken and it couldn't hurt. This all, I bought at the far CVS, wearing sunglasses and a pulled down cap with my hair in an unusual ponytail.

The hardest part was "the talk." I always hated talking things out in my past lives... I always felt everyone involved should know where they stand somehow without speaking it, and yet... that has worked terribly for me in the past. So I sat down with a notepad and wrote a few talking points.

When he got home from work, I sat him down and laid it out.

"First, no shame about what happened our first time. The first time sucks, full stop. There'll be more. Practice makes perfect and all that. You're, uh, probably going to want to initiate that more often than I will, and I invite you to do so. I will remind you that I'm free to decline any time at my discretion. As before, we don't owe each other sex."

He looked at me in puzzlement: "I mean, you're free to decline if I initiate, but I don't expect you will." He nodded his head to the side, allowing that.

"We'll have to work on foreplay and stamina... I wanna find out what I like, what gets me going, and I want you to last long enough to give it to me. Do you have any specific comments on my performance?"

"Hmm, only that this whole conversation is really killing my mood," he laughed.

"Fair," I said moving on. "I think we have a pretty good sense of our rights and responsibilities in this relationship. Who does what, and how... I respect you as a lead provider, hopefully you respect me as both a lead home-maker and fellow breadwinner."

"Um, sure."

"That's a way of sayin' I do a lot."

"Right."

"I need you to know I will resist any attempts to assert yourself as a sole 'head of household' type. No authoritarianism. We go forward together or not at all. Right?"

"You think I'm authoritarian?"

"No, not that I'm real worried about that, but it needs saying. We're partners."

"Okay."

"If I piss you off, I wanna hear about it, but in a rational, straight-forward way, and I'll give you the same courtesy."

"Okay."

"We have a lot of disagreements about how things should be done. There's gotta be some give and take."

"What does that mean?" he asked, "You'll finally start rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher?"

"If that's what I takes to make you happy, maybe," I smiled. "But I don't wanna feel like I'm just rolling over for you. If I make a stand, will ya hear me out?"

"I guess."

"It's a pick-your-battles thing."

"Right, okay."

"And about Dylan... that's always a point of debate, right? But we already know how to negotiate a bit with him."

He sighed, and later told me he felt I didn't give his perspective enough credit where Dylan was concerned.

But in the moment all he said was, "Where's all this coming from?"

"You know, it's been kicking around my head for weeks."

"No, I mean, all this official-sounding talk. Where do you get it from?"

"Hm, well, I have some of the business calls I make to thank for that. Contracts I read. And I've been studying business books."

"I see."

I went on, "Bottom line there... we're raising a kid because we have to, we're dating because we want to."

"Dating isn't the word I'd use..." he said.

"Really...?"

"We're basically married, Judith."

"Ah, but... we're not. Right? Hence this discussion."

"But dating sounds so... light. Casual."

"Okay, we're 'together' because we want to be. Partnered. Coupled."

"Whatever," he sighed.

I dropped it, but to be honest he'll never get me to say we actually are "married."

"Point is, it can end. We can end it in a way married couples can't. God forbid, it doesn't work out, we don't need to get divorced. We just... you know... part ways."

He gritted his teeth. That obviously wasn't something he wanted to think about, and it was probably the "old Tyler" surfacing, hedging my bets. I moved forward quickly.

"Lastly... you love me?"

He squinted. "That's a question?"

"You've said it a few times. Does it bug you that I haven't said it back?"

He pursed his lips and nodded.

I took a deep breath: "I'm falling for you."

He looked away. Not good enough, I realized.

"I'm falling in love with you," I clarified.

He brightened up but just a shade.

"Please, this ain't easy. I'm trying to get through a lotta shit here. My own hangups aren't your fault. You somehow love me despite them. Six months ago I thought we were done. But you've changed, I've changed. And you had a big part in that... helping to make me better. I was a wild dog, even with Meghan. You've helped rein me in and... I'm better for it. I love that."

"That's great," he said flatly. I guess he wasn't feeling my point.

"You make me a great husband," I said, moving toward him. "You're dependable, determined... and yet, you can also be playful. And you're sexy when I see you having fun."

He couldn't suppress a smile. "Jude..."

"You're a sexy man, Kitty. You turn me on."

"Judith..."

"What are you gonna do about it?" I took his hand and guided it over the curve of my chest. "Say my name again, I love hearing it on your lips."

He whispered in my ear, "Judith..."

So help me.

We fell back on the bed and began to make out like a pair of teenagers. I had my hands on the button of his slacks, when we were interrupted by somebody coming home.

"Mom! Dad! Tyler's here, when's dinner?"

Aw, shoot. "To be continued," I sighed.

He smacked his head. "After all that waiting."

Tyler/Judith/Whoever I really am now: Here's how it happened

Tuesday after he came home from work, Kit found me lying in bed with the blinds drawn. I was half-undressed. I had been zoned out for probably an hour or so.

He was clearly irritated, since even on days when I work I tend to be "on top" of the night's meal. I had dropped Dylan off at his friend's place and since I had gotten back I was just... out of it. I murmured, "You can order something if you like, I'm not hungry."

To his credit, he sensed all was not well and asked if this had to do with the dream I had posted about. I didn't want to admit it did - just a stupid dream and not even a particularly meaningful one. I thought writing out those meaningless details would end my angst about it. But it set off a chain of thought inside me and I couldn't shake it all day. So I said "yeah, maybe."

"What about it?" he asked.

I cut right to the point: "I don't know if I'm me anymore."

"What are you talking about?" he said with a bit of a laugh, "You know as well as I do that deep down, you're Tyler Blake. Your body, your sex, doesn't define you."

I sighed, a light tear fell down my cheek "This isn't about that."

"Well then what is it about?"

"I mean... is Tyler Blake me? Something deep down inside of me that I carry around, or is it a piece of meat... a body I left behind a long time ago? Just a name I used to have?"

"You lost me."

"You told me you love me, but you don't even fucking know me. You think I'm nice and domestic and motherly, but that's just because I... I look like this and I have to be this way for now. And I'll leave this body behind soon and I'll, I dunno, I'll probably go back to being the self-destructive, selfish asshole I was before."

"You won't."

"You don't know."

"I do, because you never were that."

"Tell that to Meghan, who will always hate me at least a little. Tell that to the girl I ran away from before that. You don't know what I've done. What I'm capable of. How I've lost good things and wrecked my life, how I've been terrible to others because I... I'm fucking broken."

He took a pause and sighed. "I do know what you're capable of, I see it every day. I've seen you at your worst, when you were out driving gangsters around in Milwaukee, and I know you're better than that. I've seen you at your best... and I've seen it a lot lately. Whatever's happened to you, it's a good thing."

I shrugged, "Either I'm still that person deep down, just pretending to be a 'Judith,' or... or who we really are is easier to erase than it should be."

"Not erase... change," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders. "But one thing is true. This whole experience has taught me how unimportant the past is. None of our baggage really matters anymore once you're in a new life."

"It does. I still think of every mistake I've ever made, every day. It will never go away."

He said, "It doesn't. Your body changes, your name changes, and suddenly nobody cares where you've been. You don't have to pretend to be the person you look like, but you can be the person you really want to be, free from the people and things in your life that told you you couldn't be that. And it's not pretending, it's real. You have changed, Tyler. And that's not a bad thing."

Then he said again, "I love you. For you."

I sat up and looked at him. I felt this rush, like... like all my walls breaking down. Like I was letting go of something I've held onto far too long.

I don't know whether it was out of love or just a need to seal up the moment somehow, but we ended up doing it. He needed a little "coaxing," which surprised me considering how often I have observed him nursing a subtle hard-on in bed, but that's probably just because I was so sudden about it. I thought it would involve more planning, but it was time. We just rushed into it, damning everything that might have spoiled the mood - including, stupidly, a condom (I ended up taking a morning-after pill the next day. Misnomer: it's actually two pills taken hours apart.) I'd love to report it was some kind of life-changing experience, but my mind was still way too far away to actually enjoy it. There were pleasurable aspects, but either Jude's body isn't totally wired for pleasure anymore or I was still subconsciously fighting it despite my honest desire. It was also, all due respect to Kitty and to Adrian, about a minute long.

Still, that's one long-delayed rite of passage finally through with. Suppose I'll find an excuse to try again, and I hope it doesn't require another emotional breakdown.

I rolled over and let him wrap his thick, hairy arms around me. I whispered very quietly, "I think I love you too."

We'll see if I can live up to it.

-Tyler/Judith

Simon/Joy: Stretch, Sully, the Big Guy and Teddy

I had sex again last night, big deal. Only this time I went over to the guy's place, because I didn't want Treena to judge (until she reads this.) It was kinda messy and smelled like a locker room... and is it weird that that turned me on a little? It was far from home, and I thought I could maybe spend the night, but I felt too awkward so I Uber'd home at 3 AM. Exhausting.

I could probably just keep hooking up with random dudes as long as I like - there's no shortage of bro's at the bar lining up to buy me a drink - but it's starting to wear me down. It's getting repetitive I'm not patient enough to set up a really good screening process so I usually just pick the first dude who gets to me, which is probably a recipe for disaster. I've thought about online dating, but I also don't like all the buildup and I'm seriously not looking to date, and all the guys who only want something casual on there are kinda... gross, tbh. But I have one last option. Work.

Some people are not into the idea of mixing business with pleasure, but those people are missing out on lots of fun. Seriously, you have a group of people you have to see day-in-day-out for years and you never even consider bumping uglies with any of them? Waste of time. Some say it causes workplace hostility, but only if you do it wrong. Plus there's something sexy about sneaking around, having a secret (lol, tell me about it!) and generally being naughty.

In fact, many years ago I had it hot and heavy with this girl from accounting. She dressed real conservative but she was a total freak. Loved anal and wanted me to tie her up once. Not that I'm up for any of that, but, you never know. She dumped me cold and I never fond out why.

So you might recall I spent the holidays with my co-worker Stretch. I honestly thought he was gonna make a move on me but if he wanted to he didn't try very hard and I wasn't up for it yet. Now that I am - and honestly I think I've been strutting around the office like a cat in heat for weeks trying to get some attention - and nothing. He seems shy, intimidated by me. Yawn.

I'd consider it if he would just man-up and make a move. He's tall and thin and clean-cut... kind of a Ryan Gosling look to him. I could go for that.

But he's not my only option around the workplace. In fact, there's three other guys I have a good relationship with: we flirt, we tease, we have long chats about the weekend. There's the Big Guy, who is so-called because he weighs about 300-lbs, and I know what you're thinking... sounds gross. But I think he's actually more athletic than any of the other guys because he hits the gym constantly. Good square jaw, looks like he used to play football in college. He just sweats a lot. He's vulgar and brash, and probably loves the fact that I can execute a perfect "That's what she said" joke.

Only, I think I saw him wearing a wedding band when we first met months ago... and now it's mysteriously disappeared. Not that I've ever asked...

Then there's Sully, kind of a cross between the two. A bit older than Stretch, and chubby but not "fat." We've teamed up on a few sales, and he is a smooth talker. He keeps telling me that one night, when he's free, we're gonna hit the club together. I have no idea what he needs to be "free" from... he does, however, have a face that looks like a potato and I don't think I could live with myself if anyone knew I had "hit that."

Lastly, there's Teddy. Honestly, besides the fact that Teddy is over 40 and looks it, he'd be the guy. Like, he's kind of who I see myself being in 10 years, and who doesn't want to screw themselves? Aloof, soft-spoken, but smart as hell and surprisingly funny. The man has been my idol, a bit, since I got here, and I'd be lying if I said he didn't occasionally pop into my head when I was "with myself." (Or with another guy.) But that aloofness means he can play hard to get... and I don't know if I have the patience to unwrap all those layers. I'm only here for a few more months so if I want something consistent, I need to act now.

In case you were wondering, Joey is dating some Filipino chick. Good for him, Asians are hot, but I'm not gonna deny that I'm annoyed that now that I'm ready he's off the menu.

Judith/Tyler: Strange dreams

Ugh. I had a pretty important meeting that I nearly slept through this morning... a consequence of my new responsibilities at work. I'm supposed to be arranging this 30th Anniversary Party for like 200 people (it's pretty small potatoes considering the company routinely does 1000+, but considering I'm a novice, as is Judith, 200 is a good place to start.)

I don't always remember my dreams, but occasionally I have one that is vivid and leaves me feeling freaked. First of all, in any one of my dreams I could be in any of the bodies I've inhabited over the years, or a combination. But in this one I was Judith. I was on top of a very tall building. There's a shadowy figure waving to me from the next building over. I don't know who it was, but I felt very compelled... I had to get to them. The only way over was a tightrope, so I start walking it... in heels. Of course I lose my balance and land, crotch-first, on the rope, and I have to keep my legs clamped on it to scootch forward, but I never quite make it. I could feel my hands gripping the rope, shaking, the wind blowing my hair... the sun was coming up and by the time it was daylight it was... well, daylight, and I woke up, almost late for my meeting.

I have been in a daze all morning. Not that I necessarily think it means anything, but it just left me feeling... strange, afraid, sad, haunted. After the meeting, which I was barely mentally present for, I called and left a message on Kitty's voice mail at work, saying I just wanted to talk, which I realize was a mistake because it makes me seem a bit sad and pathetic, and like some kind of emergency happened.

I dunno. It's a weird thing to bring up in a post, but I needed to get it out there.

-Ty/Jude

PS I just realized in the first draft of this post, I put Judith's name first instead of mine. Leaving it that way, but please chalk it up to disorientation and nothing else. I'm still me, even if what it means to be me has changed.

Simon/Joy: My body, my choices right?

I wasn't all that surprised that Treena didn't approve of my little sexual activites the other week. Maybe she thought that by gifting me my first vibrator (not that I have a second one yet) I wouldn't feel any need to try the real thing, and honestly I was surprised at how into it I was, but... like, all the sexual focus I used to put on women had to go somewhere and it turns out men do the trick in a pinch. I see things differently now. But I'm still thinking I can go back when I'm good and ready.

She seems to think I should be happy keeping to myself but I'm not like her, I'm social, I need to be around other people, need to be liked and fawned over, especially now that it's so easy to get attention. I get bored easily and you can't focus on work 100% of the time. I'm frickin' horny!

So I've gone home with three other guys since my first one. The results were mixed... there was a shocking amount of variety in their styles and abilities. One guy wanted to do it from behind but I was afraid he was gonna use that as an opportunity to put it in my @$$ so I didn't let him... so it's only actually been two guys. One didn't last long, the other went twice. Oh, and then I invited the neighbor's pool guy in for a drink one day this week when I was home between appointments, and we ended up screwing so it actually is four. He was probably the best.

Maybe I should be pickier but I'm still figuring out what I like. You could say I'm easy but I do try to make them work for it. That's why the number is so low. Except when I'm just too horny (thus, the pool guy. But he was very muscular, tan and confident, so he was "in my league.")

So yeah, Treena's response: she was basically trying to accuse me of being a slut without using that word, because supposedly she's all sex-positive. But when she sees a gal like me really taking advantage of her options, suddenly she disapproves. Not that I've never seen her have casual sex, in fact she's been with more guys than I have since I've gotten here... can you blame me for wanting to catch up?

Maybe she thinks I'm giving Joy a bad name, but the last time I checked, I'm the only "Joy" here anymore. The next one can clean up my mess, if need be, but I'm not hurting anyone. If she's got hang-ups, well, that's her problem.

Just having my fun. Honestly, these guys are just falling over themselves to get me to call back. Love it. Such a turn on.
-Simon/Joy

Tyler/Judith: Friends

Dylan brought a new friend home for dinner the other night. A boy from school who was assigned to work with him on a project. A skinny 13-year-old with shaggy blonde hair and a batch of zits around his temples.

"Don't be weird or anything," the Kid said as he introduced the young man. "But his name's Tyler."

"Tyler!" I said with an amused smirk, "That's a very nice name.... I knew a boy named Tyler a long time ago. He was trouble. Are you trouble, Tyler?"

"Um, no ma'am," he said overly politely.

"That's good," I said, "Although a little trouble is good every now and again."

"Um, sure..." he said, confused.

"But not too much, you get me?"

"Um, yes ma'am."

"Don't call me-- on second thought, keep calling me ma'am. I'm starting to like it."

"Mo-om!" Dylan groaned in embarrassment. I have to admit it's very strange how comfortable he's finally gotten using that word around me, and how comfortable I've gotten responding to it. He ushered Young Tyler up to her room. I called up to tell them to leave the door open. I could tell they did, because the sound of Xbox was clear through the whole house.

I took some headache medication and started working on dinner until Kitty got home. He came into the kitchen and asked, with his brow a bit furrowed in that way that would almost be cute, "Who's up there with Olivia?"

"Her friend Tyler from school."

"A boy?"

"Uh, yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

"Don't you think that's a little... I mean, aren't you worried?"

"Not really, he seemed perfectly innocent."

"That's--" he huffed, "How old is he?"

"Twelve, thirteen? He's in Dylan's class, so he's, you know... older, but you know how it is with the Kid."

"Now I am worried," he huffed, pacing the room with his hands on his scalp (he recently shaved it nearly clean.)

"Oh give it a rest," I implored, "You're makin' a fuss outta nothin'."

"You're not at all concerned about our kid having a b-- a boyfriend?"

"She has a boy, who is her friend. Big difference."

"At that age..." he grumbled, "You know how boys are."

"With a girl two years younger than him? I highly doubt it. Come on, Kit, don't be gross."

"I'm just being a good parent. I want to know who my little girl is spending time with."

"Come on," I said, "Dylan's smart, and he's not 'your little girl,' he's just our Kid. Older and smarter than he looks, and only ours for a short time. Not really long enough to..."

"To what?"

"I don't know," I said, "I just have more faith in him, or her, than you seem to."

He frowned and things got chilly or a while. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that they were asking me to take on some new projects at work, put in a few more hours, because one of the girls up and quit and I have seniority. I feel like I can handle it - I came in with a bit of base knowledge and have made it my business to learn the ins and outs of what they do there. And it's a bit exciting to find a bit more purpose while I'm here, but that all seemed to roll over him.

Over dinner, we made pleasant small talk with Young Tyler, found out about his hobbies and what he likes about school, the sorts of things you can ask a 12 1/2-year-old boy. Seeing him sit next to Dylivia, I'll admit, kind of hammered home the physical age difference and made the prospect of them having more of a... romantic relationship (shudder) more creepy for me. It made me see Kitty's point of view, even if she is being characteristically alarmist.

But the way they talked was as peers, and it was the most engaged and active I've seen the Kid with anyone besides Meadow since we got here. And even including her, since Tyler - who seemed like he might not have too many other friends - brought out the Dylan side, the violent video game playing, superhero movie watching sometimes rough-around-the-edges side he may feel the need to suppress to make Kitty, his teachers and his peers happy. It was touching to see that Tyler could maybe almost see the person Dylan is inside.

Tyler's dad came to pick him up and we exchanged contact information. We were getting into bed later when Kitty returned to the subject.

"We need to tell Olivia she's too young to date."

I groaned. "She's not dating. She probably doesn't think anything close to that. She just has a friend, okay?"

"I just want to establish the ground rules. No dating until she's... I don't know."

"Until her body matches her mind," I offered.

"Well-put," he nodded.

"I have the same rule by the way."

"Judith, don't kid me," he said. I officially gave Kitty permission to refer to me as Judith in private just to keep things simple even though I've never let go of my real name and probably never will, just as I probably won't get around to changing him over to "Adrian" even though he gets the masculine pronouns now.

"I'm sorry honey," I said in a teasing pout and wrapping my arms around him. I leaned up and gave him a long, deep kiss, followed by a few shorter ones, and then another where his tongue worked its way past my lips.

He started to run his hand along the length of my thigh and up to my butt. He was making his way to my breasts when I pulled back.

"Not just yet."

"You're killing me, lady," he said, embarrassed.

I kissed him again. "It'll be worth the wait." We made out a bit more before turning off the lights, and then I could tell he made his way to the bathroom to masturbate and get it out of his system.

So, this is my life.

-Ty/Jude

--

P.S. We told Dylan the next day about our little rule, and he got very upset. Not because he wants to date Tyler, I think, but more because it's his life and we're not supposed to tell him how to live it. He's a sharp kid but it's very hard to make even the sharpest kid see an adult's perspective sometimes. But we stood together on it and I'm pretty proud of Kitty and me for that. Holy shit, we might just be actually getting good at parenting together.

Annette/Benjamin: Good news?

I wish that the title of this entry referred to finding a publisher for my first novel - I've been quiet here for the past few months because I wanted to focus all my writing energy on that, but it's just getting started going through slush piles and the like.  I'm expecting a lot of rejections, but hopefully some will come with advice.

No, the good news is that after half a year of temping, contact work, and going on interview after interview, Marybeth has found a job!  It is, I think, the sort of job I'd have hoped to land if I had gone to Harvard and graduated with a degree in English, an assistant editor at a small but growing publishing house, which is getting a little extra attention thanks to some celebrity or other mentioning one of their books in an interview.  

It's great!

It's also in Chicago.

I was kind of prepared for Marybeth's job hunt leading her, and us, out of Boston; there are publishers and academic jobs here, but also a lot of grads looking for them.  In fact, I was kind of looking forward to moving back to New York if that's where it took us.  Nobody there remembers me aside from Benny/Jordan, which would have been a very weird thing on its own, sure, but there are a lot of places and things I'd like to make my places again. 

I've heard a lot of nice things about Chicago, too, although admittedly not so much from Cary.  He's kind of got his own reasons for not really loving the experience, but every once in a while he mentions a nice restaurant that Elaine introduced him to, or that going to Wrigley and the Cubs' victory parade was cool.  

Again, if I got into Marybeth's position, which was my goal before that second visit to the Inn, I'd probably be super excited to get an exciting new job in a big new city, especially if I got to hang around with someone I liked as much as I like Marybeth.

But that's the thing I can't avoid thinking about right now - it's not my life, and it's never going to be.  It's hers, and while I haven't just been with her in order to live vicariously, I do feel pangs of envy.  I could be on my way to doing this, but because some bitch decided that stealing one person's life wasn't enough (and another decided to follow suit), I'm a guy bussing tables in a burger bar, crossing my fingers that when the new location opens, I might get a promotion to full manager.  I was going to be a smart, respected woman, and now...

Well, that's what made the conversation when Marybeth got the job kind of weird for her as much as me.  I'm the one with the penis, but there are a lot of times when it doesn't seem like I'm the guy in the relationship with Marybeth.  I am well aware of how stupid and nineteenth-century it sounds, but there are a lot of ways in which the world is set up so that a good-looking guy who nevertheless hasn't personally achieved as much as his girlfriend is considered kind of pathetic in a way that isn't the case for a woman when you flip the situation around.  I generally don't feel that way, but I get some comments, and Marybeth gets a lot (Christmas at her place, with her parents, was a bonanza for both of us).  It's a weird thing, like guys who are already physically bigger and advantaged in society will somehow be looked down upon if they choose to be with a woman a couple years older or who outshines them in any way other than attractiveness, which is just stupidly weak.  It makes no sense!

But it's part of how the world works, and it meant that when she was telling me that she got this offer, I could see in her head that while she wasn't just going to let her boyfriend veto it as a matter of course, she seemed at least a little unsure of whether asking me to move with her was too much to ask.  I'm not saying every guy would just say yes immediately and then basically inform his girlfriend that they were moving, but a lot more would, and I think that Marybeth was bracing herself for a breakup in case I felt she was overstepping her bounds by even considering it.

I admit, I wasn't quite as immediate and enthusiastic with the "that's fantastic, and of course I'll come to Chicago with you!" as the perfect boyfriend would have been.  It wasn't really about male ego (I'm not entirely sure I've got one of those yet), as much as a brief flash of resentment that, once again, someone else's actions were going to make me drop whatever life I'd built and had to a new city and start all over again.  It wouldn't be a complete reset to zero like another trip to the Inn would be, but it's exhausting, and I feel like I've just gotten settled in.

She saw that, and started back-pedaling, and I immediately felt like shit, promising her that I'd follow her anywhere, and meaning it.  I love this woman and would really hate the idea of her selling herself short for me,  and I've spent the past few days trying to make sure she understands it.

And this morning, I happily went to the airport with her, sincerely telling her that I would trust her implicitly as she does the apartment hunting there while I work my last few shifts after giving my two weeks' notice, spending the rest of the time packing up the apartment so that I can rent a van and drive or stuff halfway across the country. 

I'm just hoping, that while I get all this done, that Marybeth's absence doesn't make me question the decision.  It's easy to uproot oneself when you're looking the person you love in the eyes, a bit less so when you've just called to break the news to someone like Missy who had been your friend and partner in weirdness for two years and two lives.

-Annette/Benjamin

Jonah/Krystle: Ready to pop

Missy went to Australia for New Year's before coming back to Boston, and when I said that was a lot of flying, even in first class, she agreed, saying that by the time you're almost home, you aren't sad about vacation being over any more, you just want this flight to be done.  I can relate, and I was never particularly excited about being a woman, let alone pregnant!

The word thing is, there are bits of things I miss.  Don't get me wrong, it was hard as heck to go to work and be on my feet for most of the night, but I was kind of independent, managing things, and that felt good.  Since coming up here, though, my "job" has been having a safe, healthy pregnancy, and as much as it's tough to actively do a whole lot else now that I've blown up to the size of a small car, I'm kind of bored.

I thought that maybe I could help Krystle out with "being me", but the fact that someone else was in my life for a year before Krystle and so many of my friends went to the Inn and don't expect her to act like me means it's not so urgent.  And, in other stuff, I'm behind.  Like, I was never really that great at math, but the guy before Krystle was, so he signed up for some higher-level courses, and it turns out that Krystle has surprised herself with how good she is.  She'd always treated knowing how much had been shoved into her panties within a few dollars by the end of the night, no matter how wasted she was, as just a weird little trick, but it turns out she's good with numbers generally.  It's kind of made studying for the SATs and applying to colleges weird - she does well on math, writing not so much, so while I'm thinking that after graduation, I always wanted to study religion and follow in Grandpa's footsteps, she knows she's going to do better on other parts of the tests and interviews.  I'm writing the application essays, but she's going to be doing the interviews, and neither of us can really talk much about the biggest experiences in our lives.

So, I just kind of sit around being pregnant.  Not so much sitting around - I try to get some chores done and run the occasional errand, but that's become a little harder as I'm waddling and there's snow on the ground.  I kind of also think that my parents don't necessarily want me leaving the house too much.  They haven't told the neighbors that "Jonah" knocked me up, instead coming up with a cover story that I'm some sort of poor cousin from the city whom they have graciously agreed to take in during this difficult time, but people whisper.  They haven't hit on the truth, or as much of the truth as the Inn's magic will let them believe, but there's been a lot of talk about Dad.  It makes me sick to consider, and while he says he doesn't mind taking the hit to his reputation if it lets me have a future, I hate the idea.

Mom really hates it.  I only really see how it affects her at church, where other people will stare at her and me, sometimes nodding to each other (no matter who in the family I sit next to, people seem to think it means something), and I've heard some variation of a conversation with Mom saying Christian charity is more important than how people talk a dozen times.  Only two sermons about the evils of sex out of wedlock and how bad it is for a child to not have both a mother and a father.  I can't say I liked being used as a bad example; it makes me both want to shout about how people don't know the whole story and remember to lean more heavily on forgiveness and helping out if I ever earn my way behind a pulpit.

My friends have mostly been great.  I talk with Moira, Missy, and Benjamin on-line all the time, and Missy in particular likes sending me baby toys - she'll see something and just drop it in the mail, even if she's in Hong Kong or Australia.  My friends from school who also went to the Inn kind of split along gender lines - I freak the guys out, especially the ones that turned into girls themselves, I guess because they know that this could have happened to them, and their white male brains don't want to face it.  The girls are mostly cool, though - they're really polite about asking if they can touch my belly, a lot more so than other people, maybe because they know what is like to have other people acting like they've got a claim on your body.  I also think that most of them wound up in relatively good situations, and hanging out with me gives them more of a connection to something they remember fondly that they're afraid will fade as we go to college and just have regular lives.  And sometimes they're just curious about what the future has in store when they start families.  I don't know how many will follow up in terms of promised babysitting, but we'll see.

And then there's Krystle.

It was really weird between us at first.  She was still mad at me for he not being able to get back to her life for an extra year and how she'll have a lot to explain when she does, but the fact that I am living her life and maybe something else where the baby's concerned gives her some sort of maternal/paternal instinct to protect us.  Even if she would really rather I'd used a condom, she's the one that tells me that sometimes a woman with not much else but a good body will have to use it as a resource, and while people will try and make you feel bad, it's mostly just hypocritical B.S.  Nobody, she says, ever told the bouncers outside the strip club that they shouldn't exploit the fact that they're six and a half feet of solid muscle.

I also seem to be the only person she can relax around. Dad calls it "code-switching" when she starts talking black, for lack of a better description, although technically the actual switching had been talking like the mostly-white people around her ever since first becoming someone else a year and a half ago, and you can see that he and Mom don't really approve of the bad grammar, pronunciation, and seeming to put random words in bold.  I didn't really like it at first either - I mostly grew up around white people and my folks said I'd never get anywhere if I sounded ignorant - but I got used to hearing it living Krystle's life (Momma Kamen may talk like that a bit, but I'd never think of her as dumb), so I don't look down on her when she breaks it out (I hope).  I guess I'm the one she can be herself with, even if it's just swearing a bunch when we play Xbox, since even the other folks who know about the Inn aren't really cool with her being that way.

Plus, I guess she's gotten to the point where she likes being me for a while.  She enjoys being on the basketball team, and though she's hated the part of school that's taking standardized tests, I've seen her looking at community college courses for when we switch back, because knowing you can do something is a big deal, and I guess she never knew she could do more than turn a guy's head before.  She also says high school is a lot more fun when you know just which parts don't matter.  It's also apparently a lot of fun when a girl who also went to the Inn whispers that "Jonah" really knows what a girl likes.

Despite that, like I said, she's making plans for afterward, which is a relief.  As much as I know I'm not going to feel like a whale anymore any day now, I still can't wait to be myself again.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: 31 Weeks

This has been sitting in "Drafts" for a couple of months, seeming too personal for most of that time, but if I'm going to post again, I guess I'd better put it up...

How do you know I've turned into a for-real pregnant woman?  I'm measuring it in weeks, rather than the "nine months" that people who haven't discussed milestones with an OB/GYN use.

With a due date in January, I'm pretty big by now, although I've got a ways to go and grow still, and I don't know if I'm living up to Penny's claims that former guys make the craziest pregnant ladies, but there are certainly days when I feel completely insane.  I cried at a movie the other night, and it wasn't some thing about somebody's husband dying of cancer - it was Mad Max Fury Road, a spectacularly bad idea on Moira's part.  I mean, it's a fantastic movie, but as soon as Moira remembered what happened to Splendid, she tried to drag me out, although it was Furiosa realizing she had brought the wives to certain doom that got me.  All that on top of not being the great way to celebrate a woman thwarting a bloated jerk Moira thought it would be, either.

I am so going to miss President Obama.  Mom and Dad always said I wouldn't appreciate what he meant for them, but given what the next four years may hold, I just might, and if nothing else, I don't know how I could have gotten through all this without Obamacare.  Doctors' visits are expensive, and even bosses as understanding as Ashlyn don't give hourly employees that kind of benefit.

It's crazy.  As much as I haven't had to spend too much of my salary on just being pregnant - Karla handed me down some maternity wear, though I've had to buy new bras as these breasts somehow got even bigger - it's insanely stressful, and I just wake up in the middle of the night wondering how I'm going to screw this up.  Not being a mother, but just carrying this baby and giving birth.

I didn't worry about being a mother because Krystle (Krystle-slash-Jonah, if she wrote here) was ahead of the game in searching out adoption agencies, even going so far as to start making assortments for me to meet prospective couples, but that was before yesterday, when I was getting dressed for work when my phone buzzed with a text.  "were on r way 2 c u", it said, then "ur mom looking in ur computer is f-ed up", and "told her all shed believe".

I stared at the phone for a few minutes, and then collapsed on the floor.  As prone to panic as I am over this whole situation, I really never have much thought to what would happen if we didn't get away with it.   I just assumed that I would have this baby, go back to the Inn, and whole Mom and Dad would think I'd been weird for a while, we'd eventually get back to normal, and they would never know how I had let them down.

It's going to sound weird, but my first instinct was to make sure they thought it wasn't their son's fault.  I called Moira to say I wouldn't be in because my baby's father and his parents were making a surprise visit, and then I looked in the closet to see what there was.  Should I dress like a slut, or would it just make them more disappointed in "me" to think that their son had been taken in by someone so transparent?  I shouldn't look reluctant.  I messed around with makeup, trying to look younger so that we could say we were mistaken about each other's ages, tried heels for the first time in months, and chose a top that really emphasized my cleavage.  How could a kid resist those when their owner showed an interest?  Then I puked for the first time in a few weeks, hating the idea of lying to my family.

There was no time to change back, though, and soon the doorbell was ringing.  I went through the charade of asking who was there, Krystle said "Jonah", and when I said if come down, I heard Dad say they would come up.

It's weird to see my family as a family, including Krystle in the part of me.  She's kind of uncomfortable, my mom is furious, and my dad finds his eyes drawn to my chest, and suddenly emphasizing that seems like a really bad idea.  I grab the neckline of my top and try to pull it closed, and he looks away.  Krystle tries her best to stifle a laugh at that.

"Something funny, young man?"

"No, uh, Mom, not really."

Mom looks at me, not happy with what she sees.  "If it was another teenager, I could almost understand it, but you..."  She looks around the apartment, sees the kids' things.  "And it's not even your first!"

Krystle started to look upset, so I said it was, but my sister...  Mom makes a little sound, Dad shakes his head, and I want to defend her, but see Krystle rolling her eyes and I guess that would be out of character.  Mom looks like she's going to say something else, but Dad steps in, saying he just doesn't understand how this happened.  Krystle snorts, saying he should know where babies come from, and I cringe.  Dad gives her a look, but then says he just wants to know how we got to that point.  Was it an on-line thing, who went where, all that.

We don't really have a story beyond the barest facts, so we improvise - "he" took a day trip to Boston during April Vacation, we ducked into a doorway during a downpour, more people did, so bits of us were touching...  I guess we had lunch, something about a date from a friend of Krystle's...  Then she was going off about it being a threesome, and I'm thinking, whoa, is that something Krystle does?  Or maybe it's just a way to get Mom to shout that she doesn't want to hear any more; she's been in my home long enough to know what pushes Mom's buttons. 

It gets her to change the subject, at least, saying that how "that one" ended up pregnant didn't matter, but that she wasn't going to let us give her grandchild up to some stranger.  She takes another look around the room and asks me if I had any plans to get a place of my own, since "Jonah" says I have a job.  Krystle jumps in there, saying "she does, but it is NOT going to have a nursery".  Mom looks at her and says that's hardly your decision, so I try and salvage it, saying I'm not ready.  Dad asks if I think "he" is, and I'm totem Berwyn answering it the way I hope Krystle might, saying a kid still in high school isn't, and the way I think they would want me to if I were my right self, stumbling.  That's when Mom says she wasn't exactly ready to be one of those women raising her grandchild,  that she couldn't imagine me ever putting her in that situation, and that's when I start crying like crazy.

I don't feel like I'm having any sorry of revelation or change of mind or anything, but I let it spoil out that I never wanted to disappoint her, or either of them, but it didn't feel life I had a choice.  Mom says...  Well, I forget how she says that even if she's known Krystle existed, it wouldn't be possible for her to be disappointed in that girl, but it's crushing, and I almost can't help telling them everything. 

It gets real quiet, and Dad seems shaken, not quite believing it, but kind of rolling everything I'd said around in his head.  Mom takes a moment and decides to go with "how dare you suggest I don't know my own son", while Krystle gives me this open-handed "you crazy?" look. I sigh, feeling a little more crushed, because I hadn't done this as a long shot but just because I'd had to, and now I'd made things worse.

Then Dad asked a question, and I answered, and then there was another, and a third, and Mom really didn't know what to say, which gave Dad a chance to tell me to pack some things, because I was coming with them. 

Mom said no way, but Dad told her that this was how it was always ending anyway - they weren't just going to leave this girl waiting tables and riding the subway and trying to fit a seventh person into a two-bedroom apartment,  especially with the baby due in the middle of winter, were they?  And if I was telling the truth, my friends - who, remember, were acting awful weird for about a year - might be able to verify it.

I ran up to hug them both, which was awkward in different ways - Dad didn't seem to entirely believe me, so it wasn't entirely like his son hugging him, and Mom was very reluctant to show any potential for affection to this girl who had messed up her family's life.  I wobbled on the heels, and gratefully whipped them off to throw across the room, explaining that I never wore them but was trying to scare them off.  I practically forgot to close the door before getting into sweatpants and a hoodie.  Neither Krystle or her family had a real suitcase, so I threw some things into a couple of Karla's shopping bags, including the sneakers Missy got me and some stuff out of the laundry.

My folks hadn't changed my mind when I got back out, so I ran to the door before they did, thinking of all the people I'd have to call.  I was pretty sure Ashlyn would forgive my quitting on such short notice, although Moira would be a more difficult conversation, more so than Jordan/Missy and Annette/Benjamin because she didn't know why I would just up and leave with the guy who knocked me up right away.  Nor would Momma Kamen, but I figured she might secretly be a bit relieved to have a little more breathing room, as well as expecting some impulsive, not great-looking decision-making from Krystle. 

Who, seeing how things had switched around, felt free to drop out of character.  "How the f--- you get them to go for that?  I spent like three f---in' months before tryin' to get through!"

I didn't have an answer beyond what everyone says about it sometimes being possible at big changes, which disappointed her.  "Well, s---.  Thanks to Karla, finding out that your daughter's knocked up ain't no big thing to Momma.  B----."

Mom and Dad started to scold her about language, but seeing their "sun" suddenly talk like a lower-class woman who spotted stripping more out of necessity than lack of interest seemed to have just as much effect on them as the pregnant woman making a reasonable case that she was really their son.  It wound up being pretty quiet on the way to the car and on the ride back to New Hampshire. 

And now I'm home, and it's weird.  Krystle and I both went to my bedroom at first, until we decide I should probably take the spare room for appearances.  Dinner was uncomfortable.  This is going to take some getting used to. 

-Jonah/Krystle

Tyler/Juidth: Kudos, I guess

I just read Simon's last post and... wow. I mean, not that he did it per se... as long as he's conscientious about it that's totally his call. I've been mulling things over for months without reaching a firm conclusion, and I am not gonna say that's a better or healthier way of doing things. But the way he went about it... I don't think I could ever be like that. Sure, I occasionally dabbled in casual hookups as a man, but as a woman I guess I'm a lot more... protective, is probably the word.

Kitty has weighed in with some playful but not-so-meaningless jibes about how I'm too walled off in that area. It's just weird for me. I've been a woman for two of the past three years... I'm as familiar and comfortable with the equipment as I'm ever going to be. I've come to terms with the idea that if I want sex again - maybe in my entire lifetime - waiting to be male again might not be the way to go, since there's no guarantee of that (with my luck.) The way things are between me and Kit, I might be joining Simon on that side sooner than later, and yet... I'm still holding out.

I can see he takes it a little personally, but he's getting very into the "closed-off, let's not talk about it" male persona he's building up for himself so it's hard to drag it out of him. It's a discussion I'd rather not have: why am I so reluctant to jump back into bed with him, when we've been literal bedmates since we got here, plus everything we did before that.

"Let's just have some fun," he'll say, "It'll be like old times."

"Things are different now," I say... "I'm older, tired. Busy." Excuses, excuses. And I've openly talked about wanting to try rekindling what we had, but we need to deal with the fact that, a month ago, he confessed that he "loved" me - not that he was attracted to me, or that he was interested in me or liked me. Love. That was a heavy word, and I'm not sure that whatever I feel for him matches that.

This ain't like Meg pretending to love Wade back when she was Tasha. Kit knows who I am, knows me as well as anybody at this point. Fair to say he can make an informed statement.

There was a moment at Christmas when I was ready, but it seems to have passed, at least for now.

Am I wrong to want a bit more passion, desire, drive? Not to take that step because we feel like we have to, but because I can't resist? (That's partly why I'm genuinely impressed by Simon. He wanted, he got.) Not like it's impossible to infuse my situation with a bit more heat, but... so far, things are just running too chilly.

Part of me thinks our life is too complicated to try anything more than what we already got. Say we try it and things go bad and we can't even stand to look at each other anymore? We still have to be "married" and raise "our" kid for a while. And then we don't even know what comes next. We're working without a net here.

But... shit. I get it. I look over at him at dinner or in bed, and he smiles that goofy grin and I think "This guy's all right." I feel safe and comfortable and I could wrap my arms around him, which is a big enough leap.

One of these days I'll probably crack, but not yet.

-Ty/Jude