Ever post some shit and just kind of know you really shouldn’t? This is one of those times. Alli.

Some things don’t change…

I have been in awe of what hormone replacement therapy can do.

It aligned things in my head so I could at least feel correct there, my features have softened, my eyes have changed ever so slightly, my skin is soft and translucent, and I have breasts.

My testosterone levels are below that of a cisgender woman.

…yet even now I can feel the aggression within me.

I hate this. It makes me feel all wrong.

I want to hurt someone. To grab someone by the throat and beat them to a bloody, unrecognizable pulp.

I want to cause pain because I hurt so much.

I have caused this pain before. It is a sad, hollow endeavor.

I remember sitting in court as I was convicted. That kid never had it coming.

I remember the feeling and that horrible sound as I repeatedly drove my fist into his face again and again.

His blood was all over my arms and fist.

Onlookers were horrified and nobody dared step in. I was outnumbered by his friends too.

I could have killed that kid and they just stood there.

Pathetic. Me I mean…

17 years old. I narrowly avoided jail.

Maybe I have changed.

Just not enough. Not like I should have.

This perpetual hate machine still churns…

But not for her.

Even now I want her to have the life she dreams of.

It just won’t be with me.

I want her to travel and renovate that house she dreams of.

I want her to feel the beautiful love and life she deserves. To be with that perfect person whose heart is not damaged beyond repair…like mine.

She didn’t have it easy growing up either.

But she is better than me in every way.

I doubt she has ever felt like I do.

This deep bitterness against the world for what my life has been, what it has become, what I needed to bury so deep down just to survive.

This perpetual hate machine still burns within me.

But not for her.

She is light where I am only darkness.

She deserves better. I want to know she will be loved.

Me? I couldn’t care less about me.

My apathy and self-loathing are just fuel for the machine.

I thought I was different. Deep down I’m not.

This machine still churns as its horrible fire burns within me.

I want to cause pain…because I hurt so much.

I feel just like that 17 year old kid.

This perpetual hate machine still churns…

Just not for her.

For me.

This self-loathing…this machine, this insidious furnace burns only for me.

I told her.

I am the monster I fear.

The machine is me.