so my weekend consisted of:
Friday - being informed that my wife is no longer interested in any sexual activity, in any form, due to menopause. Intimacy is just not important to her any more.
Saturday - being informed that my transition is “too hard” for her to really process. She’s going along with it because she knows I’ll die before detransitioning, and she prefers me alive.
Sunday - serious discussions about the future of our relationship, and what it means to us, how we move forward to ensure each of our needs are met, etc. without losing each other.
Just a ton of emotions, a lot of crying, and a lot of open honest communication. It was hard. The hardest weekend I can remember.
Topped off with y’know, all the fascism yesterday and what THAT means for us.
I’m exhausted. It’s 21 January 2025 and despite all of this I’m…hopeful(?). I dunno. What difference does it make if I die in a fascist regime if living means to exist without pleasure and intimacy? I’m lonely, I’m hurting, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. But the only way out of a pit is to start climbing, and the only way out of Hell is through. No one - NO ONE - is coming to save me.
I choose hope and I’m going to fight for it.
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