#i worry people would see the desolate theater and broken puppets littered around

[jackalopefreckles]

Sometimes I think about who I would be if I didn't know I was trans. I don't know if Id be as kind and understanding, as willing as I am to be open with strangers despite the feeling of unease- I don't think Id be happy. I'm not sure I'd be alive.

And I thank that person for stepping down and sitting in the back of my subconscious, every so often I know they say something. I feel like I hear it, a thought or opinion from someone I'm not anymore. Someone I'm not sure was ever real, not just a puppet on strings so frayed its amazing they still hold it up. Allowed to marionette in ways that make the strands break more. I wonder when the strings wouldve snapped if I had kept going. Trying to finish the play... If I hadn't dropped the act I'm sure I wouldve turned to rags and strings and fallen apart, stuffing and buttons a trail behind wherever the strings tugged too fast and hard, a dance move an old puppet just can't follow. Ripped apart at the seems, the fabric will begin the fall apart. Nothing left but strings and little wooden handles, still gripped with white knuckles and a smile plastered onto the puppeteer. The show had to go on, and for too long I didn't know I could switch roles