Although the tourists saw things as they were in the early 1800s, the people of Clifton at first had life much easier.
- Margaret Peterson Haddix, Running Out of Time
When I met the person destined to become my wife, life did seem so much better, so much easier. I had found a beautiful Asian woman that loved me, that wanted me, and I felt my heart returning the love. At close to the same age, we met at a junior college with dreams of finishing college and having a more secure future. We were both refugees. She was a political refugee and I was an economic one. Four years in the military with 3 1/2 years in the reserves before that had enabled me to afford to return to college 10 years after I had graduated from high school. We both made straight A's, and consistently outperformed the students who didn't value the education quite as much as we did. Here was a friend I could talk to, and I started debating whether I would ever have to tell her of my subtle cravings to be female, to be as pretty as she was.
The following semester, I moved out of my sister's place and began living on campus at a local university, while she still had one more semester to finish up for her Associate's degree. The fantasies had returned, I was calling phone sex lines to try to connect with transsexuals and I was hitting the strip club to try to quell my lonely gender dysphoric feelings. One night when I returned, I had prayed to God for when I would meet the person who was meant for me. I felt Him tell me that I already knew the person. Running through several women I knew, I finally asked, how would I know which one? I suddenly had the image of a school bus, and then the phone rang.
My beautiful Asian study partner had called. At one point, she said something, and I asked, "How come?" She answered, jokingly, "By bus." I honestly told her, "I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you." Apparently, that was a proposal.
The following December, we tried on the wedding bands we had made by melting together my grandfather's and her sister's wedding bands. I could feel the weight on my finger as it was a weight of responsibility that I longed to have. I haven't worn that ring for several months now. And neither has she.
The divorce paperwork is in the mail. My wife called Thursday to give me the final bit of information I needed to submit it for printing and mailing. I had already quit because it was horrible timing and was hurting both of us too much. So I assumed she wanted the divorce after all. She hasn't slept all week. I cried as I submitted the final information. Yesterday, she called twice in incredible depression to talk. We listened to one another.
It must be horrible thinking that you are going to be a single mother past your prime with two children and a mountain of debt. When you focus so much on your fear, you can actually cause it to happen.
I love her. I miss her. I worry about her and I can't cause her this much pain when she was not consciously considering divorce at the time. So I told her she can just put the packet aside when it arrives; but if she ever wants to file it, to just let me know and I'll file mine.
I am also afraid to be in so much debt. I don't want to leave so much with her, and the longer I delay my surgery, the longer I remain on hormones, the less material there will be available to work with. Meanwhile, it makes it harder to just integrate when the bathrooms are segregated on physical sex. I am not looking forward to having to answer someone as to why I have to use a bathroom they don't have access to.
Work is going well after the second week of full time. The first week was clouded by the expectation of being called by my former name. Correcting pronoun usage is getting to be a full time job, however.
When I arrived at the gate on Thursday morning and showed the guard my driver's license like I usually do, he started insisting on proof I was a contractor because I have a contractor sticker on my car. I was a little flustered to have to show him my contract id with my old name and photo on it right next to my newer driver's license. He said it was okay and let me through. Fortunately, that was the morning the system was ready for me to come get my new access card. Now, all that seems to be left is the email system and the timesheets, which are supposed to be "automagically" updated when I go into work on Monday.
I have opened conversations with Dr. Suporn's clinic in Thailand. The quote is 495,000 baht for SRS, approximately 15,000 USD, and 20% deposit when scheduling. I've seen his work, and I know I don't have quite enough tissue for the penile inversion technique. What's more, he guarantees his work, including full clitoral sensitivity. I'll have 3000 in an HSA by this time next year that I can use. I still need to come up with another 14,000 plus one month's wages to cover the 30 days I'll be gone. He is booked up about 8 months in advance, so I don't really have to worry about reserving until after September. So I really have to get finances under control so that I can afford the credit necessary to get this done, or I'm going to have to rape my retirement funds, leaving practically nothing; which is really bad because I'm not putting anything in right now.
Hugs and God Bless,