27 MARCH 2026 - FRIDAY

i wanted you to see me.

You were one of the very few people who, albeit timidly in the beginning of our relationship, openly debated with me and challenged my views. I remember how infuriating it was, at first, having to justify what I said to you and to take a stand against your opinions. In truth, I loved it. I didn't have anyone around me who really wanted to be the contrarian, to provide ideas and perspectives that I have not originally thought of before. I knew I was that person for you as well. There were moments where I had passionately spoke about things, and you quietly listened. Other times, you had to reign me in and propose a different view or concept, even if I didn't want to hear it. Our conversations were a constant back and forth, two individuals locked into their ways of living life fated to disagree.

I found you frustrating. I wanted you to see the world like I did. You wanted me to slow down and take it all in one step at a time. You like things as they are. I know that now. I incorrectly thought you wanted to take control of me. You didn't. I think you knew I could never be tied down. You became reserved as I continued to push the boundaries of my expression, and I was ignorant to your turmoil. There were some things that you refused to compromise on. That... and I didn't have the patience to wait for you to catch up with me. I was so stuck on thinking that I was right and moving forward, instead of waiting for you to keep pace and walk forward with me.

Loving you was easy. Admitting it was hard. That day that you said it in the most indirect way possible, I panicked. I convinced myself that you were in love with the me that was no longer here. I was concerned that all you saw was the woman I was, and not the man that I had become. I told myself that you were only saying that because you were holding on to the person that I used to be. Instead of talking to you directly about it, I evaded it at every possible turn. I kept you by my side selfishly, without any thought of your feelings and how confusing it must have been to watch my transition come to life. In my head I was blooming, maybe in yours I was dying. Why didn't you ever protest? Why couldn't you just leave if you hated seeing what I was becoming so much?

I pushed you away, closed you off from me and all the spaces I enveloped. I cried for days. I just wanted you to SEE ME. I was being selfish maybe- no, definitely. I wasn't communicating properly with you at all. But I wasn't ever going to stop myself from transitioning. I wish I had told you directly in a way that you could understand and accept. I just internalized that you already hated it.

Blue skies remind me of you. On my commute, there's a bridge that's perfect for viewing the open sea and the open air. When it's good weather, you can see the sky stretch out with the ocean, reaching areas beyond from here. I like to think that you and I are viewing the same sky, now living different lives. We'll never be able to return to what we once were to each other. I told myself to be happy, that you would eventually find someone. A nice girl perhaps. Someone who could have children, stay at home, be the perfect wife with the picket fence and the nice yard. Someone who didn't have baggage and serious issues. Someone who wasn't me. Someone who isn't me. I loved you, and I never told you, and I'll just have to accept that for the rest of my life.

Now, I am very happy for many reasons. I am surrounded by love, which is very much a privilege. The shadow of your presence no longer envelopes my mind entirely, but you're still present in my mind. A memory, a moment, a man who tried me at every turn. A man I'll never see or talk to or interact with ever again, for both of our sakes. I see you in every blue sky. I hear you in some of the tracks that I play. I imagine that you would like the sets I did recently, or that you would be right there in the front supporting me like you had previously. I imagine the times that we looked at each other and had quiet companionship, or passionate disagreement. Romanticizing the hard times is what I do now, because if I think about all the mistakes I might just look at our history with only regret and not joy that it happened.

This weekend, I will be present at an event for Trans Day of Visibility. I know you won't be there. I know there's a very slim chance of us ever meeting again, but I am unsure if you'd even use the pronouns I go by now. I don't know if you would accept who I am. I can't ponder it anymore else I'd go crazy. This whole weekend, I will be surrounded by individuals who proudly express who they are. People who wish to be visible no matter who leaves them. People who dare the world to make them hide. People that I wish to stand next to for the rest of my life in solidarity. I will delude myself by hoping that maybe one day, you could be at an event like this in silent support of me. I guess you'll never leave my mind.

I wanted you to see me.

I wanted you to see me.

I wanted you to see me.