Last night I was having a wash and someone knocked at the door.
So I scurried to get covered and answered it, and it was the (rather attractive) guy from upstairs. They're having a party, he says, you should come up. Maybe.. In a bit.. I say. He says no, no, you gotta come up. So I says that I'm naked and such but okay I'll be up in a bit.
I went and dunked my head and shampooed and started rinsing and then the door goes again.
This time I'm dripping water and I can't see (no glasses) but I recognise the girl who used to live with the guy upstairs anyway. She comes in. I scurry around protecting my modesty and female-bodiedness and drying off and saying goodnight to my sexy girl in Sheffield.
I eventually send her off with promises to be up in a little while, finish saying goodnight to my gorgeous girl via Skype (of course she has to go and tease me and get me all hot and bothered!) and head up there.
I meet a bunch of guys, two of whom are quite attractive (the birthday boy, and the guy from upstairs) and a load of nice girls. I feel out of place, but enjoy the fact that they're playing ancient Eminem albums to which (thanks to my little brother) I know most of the words and tune. After a little while, I feel more like a member than that-weird-guy-from-downstairs. I have a good time. I chat to some of the guys. I have the girl from up there dancing pressed against me. I wonder what she thinks of my packer, and if she'd think it was real if she didn't already know. We headfuck the guy a little, by telling him about my 'willy'. He thinks I've had an operation, but also thinks that that would be fast. I make him come into the empty room and feel it. It's quite sexy to have another man put his hand down your trousers. He still thinks I've had an operation, at first, but I tell him it's silicone. He looks relieved. I feel greatly amused.
At one point, most of us blokes were standing in the kitchen (cooler in there) and drinking, and talking about weights and age and booze and such. I am the oldest person there, but only by a year. It's unimportant. The guy from upstairs is topless and I want to pull him against me and enjoy a cuddle, but I don't want him to look like a queer in front of his mates (though it was a very, very homoerotic party, there was a lot of humping bums and slapping and groins-in-other-guys-who-have-sat-downs-faces). He sidles up to me a little at one point, looks up from under his hair with that ridiculously hot half-smile, and says "You're passing."
I feel fucking amazing, because I know I am, but also because this guy knows how much of a big deal it is. I feel joyful in this kind of company. And despite having had half of a very drunken threesome with him and his (now ex) girl, he still treats me as a bloke and never messes pronouns up. Amusingly, she does still mess pronouns up. You'd think it'd be the other way around!
But anyway;
I passed.
Completely.
Apart from my age.
There was one guy who thought I was sixteen.
But he didn't think I was trans, or a butch dyke, or a 'girl' in any way shape or form.
I now believe people who tell me my voice is androgynous. Thanks for trying to give me that confidence, guys, you have no idea how much more I'll trust you now that I know you were right.
It was fucking amazing for my ego! I feel amazing. :)
Can't wait for my provisional so I have ID!
And it's the thirteenth today - only sixteen days (maximum) until my psych appointment.
I'm finally cheering up, I'm feeling mostly positive.
I also feel depressed as fuck when I think that I'm probably not going to get treatment for a while, but I've made the decision to buy some for myself for Christmas if it's still not sorted through the NHS, and it helps me ignore that big black cloud that's telling me to go to bed and not get back up.
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