An array of every color ever imagined burned into Ben’s retinas. For the past few hours he and Anthony had been slumped on the couch, binging a new anime that had good reviews. During that time, less than a dozen words had been said by either of them. The ones that were said? Some vague grumbling to pause the show when one had to get up for the bathroom or grab a snack.
Ben thought the show was okay. The music was catchy and the characters had cute designs. The plot seemed a little too cliche; power of friendship, good versus evil, all that. And if he was being honest he wasn’t a fan of the voice acting. As much as they looked, they’d had to settle for an English dubbed version.
These were the problems Ben thought about now. He had classes starting within the week but still needed his books. He hadn’t eaten a meal that wasn’t some combination of bread, meat, and cheese in weeks. And of course, he hadn’t spoken to anyone other than Anthony and some random delivery drivers in over a month. Yet none of that concerned him. He just consumed as much media as he could until it was time to eat or go to sleep, on an endless loop.
The less his thoughts were tethered to reality, the less the harshness of reality could touch him. As far as plans went, he knew it wasn’t his best. But now he wasn’t kept awake wondering how his life would have gone differently if he had been born male. Too many nights lost to fantasizing about being the high school track star he wanted to be. Of how he might be able to go outside without baggy clothing to hide the body he hated. Or if some of the girls he used to have crushes on might actually have been interested in him. How Maya might not have disappeared from his life…
That’s why he simply didn’t think of those things anymore. As long as he could keep watching episode after episode of whatever he could find, things would be manageable.
As another episode came to a close and credits rolled, Ben reached for the remote to skip through and start the next one only to find it missing.
“Mind if we watch something else?” Anthony asked, revealing the remote in his hand. “I’m kinda burnt out on this.”
Ben didn’t really have a problem with that. As long as something was on he felt comfortable and safe. “Oh, sure. Sorry, you should have said something sooner.”
Anthony shrugged and fiddled with the remote until they were absorbed in a new, equally mind-numbing show. While happy to have a noisy distraction, Ben couldn’t quite latch on to this one’s premise. It was overly dark for the sake of it, not very witty, and most of the characters seemed to exist for sex appeal.
And so, when distraction number one failed, he went to his backup. He pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention of opening one of the three apps he used when television couldn’t cut it.
He didn’t like distractions from his main distractions usually, so he had muted his phone. But looking at it, he had a text message, unread, sent almost an hour before. From Maya.
The unease began to set in. All of his strategies were failing him. In fact, he didn’t even have a strategy for this. Television could distract his thoughts from wandering too far, but with direct contact being made, it stood no chance.
A small part of his brain was happy, even. It was the part that used to be in charge until recently. Two months ago hearing from Maya would have made him happier than anything else. Now though? It would take something much stronger to get out of the emotional hole he was in.
He knew she wouldn't say what he wanted to hear. At worst it could be a final nail in their friendship, with her saying goodbye for good and never wanting to associate with him again. It was more likely something much less serious, like her asking about a class, or a general check up. Anything was likely to just upset him further. Still, curiosity demanded he check to see.
Hey, I want to meet up and talk soon. Sorry for everything.
That wasn’t what he expected. There was no sadness attached to it that would prolong his suffering and send him further into numbness. This was the text he had wanted to see the whole time!
Yet he didn’t feel good either. Was he really going to just forgive her for disappearing like that? He was at an all time low of self-worth. Still, the remnants of his pride wouldn’t let him be the guy who was on standby for her the entire time. He must deserve better than that, right? Then what if she did it all again? The good will that had existed toward Maya had all but soured. Months of being hopeful and having that hope slowly drain away had left a vacuum that now told him to not only ignore her text, but tell her off. Really let her know how much she hurt him.
“You good?” Anthony asked. “You look pissed, is the show that bad?”
Ben turned toward him, disoriented. Was he that easy to read? Or was he so upset it was fully on display? Whatever the case, he needed to vent.
“Remember Maya?” He asked his roommate.
“The girl you dated for like a week and then cried over for a month?” Anthony said. “Yeah, what about her?”
Ben was always amazed at Anthony’s ability to put a negative spin on everything he said. Not that there was a lot of positivity in Ben’s mind lately either, but with Anthony it was a constant. It was so consistent that he couldn’t even take it personally anymore.
“Sure, that’s one way to put it.” Ben sighed. Past venting sessions with Anthony never improved his mood, though now he was in uncharted territory with how he felt. Anything was worth a shot. “Well, she wants to meet up again and is apologizing and stuff. I have no clue what she wants to say though.”
Anthony pondered for a moment, fist under his chin as if he was in a play. It was a little unnerving to Ben, who had never seen Anthony this interested in his life before. He doubted his roommate could give quality advice based on how little he seemed to do anything that involved other people. It was like waiting for a building to be demolished; he had to see what would happen.
“You should just not respond,” Anthony finally said. “If she is actually sorry then she’ll ask you again. Then you can know for sure.” And with that he leaned back into his couch indentation and was absorbed back into his show.
Ben knew it was bad advice. It was childish, entitled, anti-social behavior that only someone like Anthony would ever think was good. Still, he wanted to do it. He not only wanted Maya to feel the weight of what she had put him through, but he also needed to protect his pride. If he ran straight to her at the first chance she gave him again, it would show her how important she is to him. It would reveal that Ben was weak and he needed her.
The sad truth was that he wasn’t sure if that was wrong. She was the first person in his life who made him feel normal about being trans. The first girl he had flirted with who didn’t react negatively upon finding out. The boost in confidence he had around her made it hard to deny how much he needed that. Would he ever get that back if he didn’t run straight to her?
Why was he waiting around for someone else to give him confidence? He should just make up his mind. It was then that he noticed how hot the room was getting. The show Anthony was watching was pointless, the couch wasn’t very comfortable, he was thirsty, and he needed a fresh set of clothes. Everything suddenly sucked.
With a grunt, he stood up and hurried to his room, leaving Anthony startled. He grabbed his water bottle from his nightstand and chugged until it was nearly empty, before tossing it onto his bed. His dresser was next. Not wanting to pull from the sad pile of clothes in the corner, he picked out a clean change of clothes that he hadn’t worn in ages and switched into them.
He looked at himself in the mirror and was startled. Somehow, he had put on his old running clothes without noticing. The items themselves weren’t very special, his gray shirt and worn-out joggers were his staple he used whenever he would go for a jog. Seeing them brought back all his memories of high school track, both the good and the bad.
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Curious if he still had them, he checked his closet for his old shoes. And sure enough, after moving a few boxes around, he spotted them. After quickly slipping them on, he returned to the mirror to check out his completed look.
Huh. I don’t remember them fitting this well.
In high school he always avoided mirrors when he could. Every glimpse into one would remind him of how much he wanted to look different. His clothes always felt misshapen and baggy in some areas, yet restrictive and overly tight in others. And they never looked good on him, at least in his eyes.
Now, though, he was looking at a completely different image. The same clothes were sitting on his body completely differently. While he never had that large of a chest, now he couldn’t even tell he was wearing a binder under his shirt. And his legs looked a bit more toned and hairy, despite having the least active year of his life. Even his face had a little more peach fuzz on it than what he was used to.
Did it all happen overnight? Was he in that big of a slump he didn’t notice how well his testosterone had been treating him?
No, he knew what was happening.
He was finally having a normal day. Not great, not awful. It wasn’t his first one ever, in fact he used to have them all the time; they used to be commonplace. But it was his first one in months. He had nearly forgotten what they felt like in such a small window of time, how crucial they were to keep from collapsing into despair.
Not wanting to waste it, he knew he had to act fast. Had to do something that could keep this going. His mirror showing him his new and improved running outfit convinced him to head out the door, ignoring Anthony’s questions.
For the first time in over a year, Ben was going to go for a run.
It only took a few minutes for Ben to feel nostalgic. He was out of breath, cold, and starting to sweat. Thankfully his years of training weren’t completely erased, as he wasn’t discouraged by any of it. In fact, he loved it. Each step he took felt like he was getting closer to an improved mind and body. As if he just had to make it a certain distance and happiness would be right there.
The walkways weren’t as busy as he would have expected giving classes were about to start back up. Certainly the bad weather was to blame. There was little snow left on the ground but the cool air still stung with every passing breeze. Even Ben was starting to feel impacted by the cold, though he was determined to keep going a little while longer.
One more block. Then, he would turn around. His lies weren’t even strong enough to fool himself. Once he turned around, it meant the run was ending. It meant he might get back to his room and lose all feeling again. He couldn’t have that.
Four more blocks since telling himself he should stop, but his pace stayed consistent. He had to take it a bit slower than in his prime. Still, he loved how it energized him. It reawakened a distant part of his mind that had given up. Maybe he just needed to give testosterone more time. Maybe he could try out for the team when spring came around. Maybe.
After the seventh extra block, he had to pause to catch his breath. Luckily the building he was next to was unlocked and he could rest in the airlock until needed. Tiny snowflakes had begun to fall, and while they weren’t piling up yet, he knew it was only a matter of time. And, judging by how far he overexerted himself, he would have to head back soon to make it home before the walkways were slick.
Making the most of his rest, he looked around the interior of the building he sought shelter in. He thought it was familiar when he entered, but he was more worried about warming up than scratching his brain itch at the time. Now, though, he recognized exactly what it was. The very same building he and Maya had ceramics last semester.
Ben groaned. Of course the run he went on to improve his mood and clear his mind led to yet another reason to think about Maya. From the air-lock he couldn’t tell if anyone else was in the building. Some lights were on, though they were likely automatic. The small room they considered the lobby was just an ugly gray floor with a few metal chairs in it. Not even a plastic plant to pretend it was a space meant for the living. He could spot some dried salt on the floor, indicating people had walked through during the winter break. When he had classes there he never noticed those things. It was merely a room to walk through to go hang out with Maya.
Memories of their times in class crept into Ben’s head. It was the only class he remembered enjoying. Well, until Maya left. He never did get as good as her at sculpting a clay pot, but at least his projects were identifiable by the end.
Forgetting his promise to only stay inside a couple minutes, he tried the handle. To his surprise it was unlocked, letting him enter the main building. Without a true coherent thought, he crept his way toward the dusty old ceramics room. He knew he wasn’t breaking any rules, but the whole place felt so eerie it made him second guess.
Habit led the way and before he registered what he was doing, he found himself standing in the room’s doorway. The light was off, but the door was left open. He wondered if that meant the instructor was around and busy elsewhere, or if the school’s security was really this lax. The difference didn’t seem to matter much, as he walked in without coming to a conclusion. It was just as dirty as he remembered, maybe even a little more so. At the back of the room he spotted his shelf, where he had set his pieces to dry all semester. A few of his projects were still sitting there. The room must not have been used for any winter classes. He was supposed to have taken them home, but after Maya transferred out he found himself leaving class as soon as possible each day.
Most of the other shelves were empty. Yet, when he looked at Maya’s shelf, he saw a piece left on it. A thin vase which she had painted using a white glaze, with a few red flowers on it. Did she forget it? Or did she have the same excuse as Ben?
He moved toward his pieces and nearly laughed at how much they paled in comparison. There was a wobbly pot that he forgot to paint, a mug that would cut the lip of anyone who wanted to drink from it, and a vase of his own. The vase was the only thing there that he was actually proud of. It wasn’t wobbly and he didn’t even need much help from Maya or the instructor. Even the design he painted on it looked good. A counter to Maya’s white with flowers, his was black, with green vines spreading around it.
Ben picked his vase up and brought it next to Maya’s. Hers was definitely still neater, like something you might actually buy at a farmer’s market, while his was a B+ with a designated spot on his Mom’s coffee table at best. But he still liked his. The slightly bulkier shape with the dark color made it look important. And while the vines weren’t as pretty as flowers, they made his eyes wander all around the surface. He felt he could stare at it for a while and not get bored.
Pride welled up inside him. He worked all semester to improve and it actually paid off. Even if nobody else liked his vase, he loved it. It was a symbol of his time and effort. Proof that he could become good at something he once had no hope in. And he did it on his own. Maya had helped him earlier in the semester, sure, but when it came down to it, he made every motion at the pottery wheel. He picked which colors to use, made each brush stroke himself.
Why did he ever think he needed to rely on someone else so heavily? Maya had improved his confidence, but what right did he have to attach all of his happiness to her? It only led to resentment when she pulled away. As if she was trying to shatter his self-worth on purpose. Now here he was, lonely and miserable and pretending she was the villain in his story.
Ben sighed and set his vase back on the shelf. All day he had been having realizations dawn on him. Was he just dumb? He should have figured it all out sooner. At one point he did think he had it figured out. Perhaps he was destined to never really know what was going on until damage had been done.
Well, whatever, Ben thought. I wasted enough time. May as well see what I can do.
He reached for his pocket and opened the text from Maya. The exact words he wanted to say were jumbled in his head, but he was determined to get it out there, even if it wasn’t as neat as he would have liked. He wouldn’t get caught up in the apology she gave, just a quick acceptance and a place to meet up. No chance to chicken out. Clear and concise. It would give her another chance to respond and show Ben if she really meant what she said.
With the text sent, he felt his nerves tighten. Once again he was building hope. Had he not learned his lesson? No, he had. It was fine to have hope. The issue was that relying on it for his entire sense of self-worth wasn’t ever going to work. It would never be sustainable. He could be happy at the idea of seeing Maya again, and maybe have some hope that things would go well, so long as he knew he could survive without that.
His next big challenge was getting home. All the windows in the room were frosted, not revealing the current state of the weather outside. The snow had been picking up when he sat in the airlock. He could only imagine how much worse it got while he was inside.
He hurried to leave, but was stopped by a pull. Not a real, physical sensation. An urge in his head. Following it, he turned to get another look at the vases. The teacher had said that any projects left by the time a new class started would be tossed away. He looked around and spotted a small cardboard box in the corner of the class. Surely nobody would miss it, right? And if they did, he could always return it. Upon picking it up, it was completely empty, barring some tissue paper. Perfect for his intentions. At the shelf he set both vases inside, making sure the paper was separating them before folding the lid over.
Of course, this meant running back home was no longer on the table. It would be a slow, cold trek back, without a coat, through a flurry of snow. He considered tucking the box in a corner and coming back the next day with warmer clothes and a ride.
No, he wanted them now. There was a good chance he wouldn't come back for them if he left them. Now was his only shot. Double checking that there were no faculty around, he darted to the airlock and stepped outside.
And to his delight, the snow had already stopped. Not only that, the sun was poking through the clouds, warming his skin enough to ward off potential frostbite. Ben smiled.