A coldness had been creeping into my relationship with my girlfriend for a while. I ignored it or explained it away in my head. “Surely I’m just being sensitive or overreacting to something little,” I would say to myself… but the feeling was always there. Sex was amazing in the beginning of our relationship. She’d wake me up in the middle of the night or I’d seduce her when she got home from work. However, everything had gone cold in the bedroom… but we still laughed, cuddled, and supported each other.
“Everything is fine,” I kept telling myself.
Last week Ronnie and I had a really deep, really true conversation and it came down to one simple reality: what we imagine life will be like and what life really ends up like are often not the same.
Ronnie started dating me when I was telling people that I was transgender but still living as a man. Ronnie walked with me, slept with me, and slept with me through my transition. She celebrated me becoming myself. She kept nudging me towards living my truth until it was something I did 24 hours a day without batting an eye.
Unfortunately, as my body changed, so did Ronnie’s attraction to me. Attraction is pretty damn black and white: you’re attracted to someone or you’re not. Ronnie had to admit to herself and then to me that her attraction had diminished as my thighs got thicker and my balls got thinner.
I’m not angry at Ronnie. She’s not angry at me. She’s actually sitting next to me on the sofa as I write this. If anything, I’m grateful for everything Ronnie did for me. She helped me loosen up, laugh, and moan in the bedroom. She introduced me to raspas, elotes, and real tacos. She let me into her circle of friends and into her son’s life. She even preformed the miracle of teaching me how to enjoy walking through a Ross or TJ Maxx. In short, she treated me like a fucking queen and taught me how to be a woman.
But it’s over.
I move into my own place on Friday. For the first time in a year-and-a-half, I won’t have her by my side as I go through life. Even this gives me hope, though. When my ex-wife left me, I lost my goddamn mind. Really, I did. With Ronnie, I’m sad. I cry sometimes. But I know I’m going to be just fine.
The sadness I feel at the loss of Ronnie will fade but the gratitude I feel for everything she did for me will last forever.
One thought on “Often Not the Same”
Hang in there!
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