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Why do I do this?

Well... things have just gotten rough with my girlfriend...

And I am handling it poorly. Completely fucking it all up.

We met at my art studio, and she generally knew to talk to me when I complimented her hair. What I said after that did not seem to let her down either. Though, I tend to be insanely harsh on myself.

We spent all day on Christmas Marathoning Doctor Who... then on Boxing Day we created a Boxing Day tradition that I wish to continue. It involves making somebody VERY happy in their "box".

Though as things went on... she kind of got irritated with how open I was about what we were doing. In my mind, I do not get how much of what I say is completely sexual. I'm having to figure out how not to have everything out of my mouth be some creepy pick up line.

I've socialised with only a limited amount of types.
  1. Stoners... probably some of my best friends in high school got through the entire thing high on so much fucking pot it is redonkulous.
  2. Retarded Special Jerry Kids... I got some wonderful tips on things to do to look like a complete retard
  3. Murders... I try to keep the behavioural traits I've learned from them hidden... which is one of the things I've learned from them. They also taught me some wonderful lessons. It is easier to be kind and caring when you know how to make people dead... and how rude people are after they are dead. You thought they were assholes before... their dead carcass just goes rude to the one hundredth degree
  4. Creepy people trying to get into my pants... I'm surprised at how many people have been like this.
  5. People with a heavy and thick amount of Aspergers and Autism. A couple people with OCD, but not many.
  6. Psychotic Trailer Trash Girls... these ones also taught me a few terrible socialising traits.

Since we do not burst out of our parents chest, and know instantly know how to socialise, allowing eugenics to be a simple matter of killing everybody who doesn't immediately don a monocle and a top hat... I really have no idea how to fucking talk with people.

I mentioned to her, that this was a good point, and a really good issue to bring up.

She also brought up the notion that we need to figure out some really decent options to not end up with her pregnant.

Unfortunately, that has been playing in my head ever since.

This girl is insanely beautiful, brilliant, loves the best things, makes me want to do terrible things to her and she cannot keep her hands off of me.

The thing is: I am transgender, and as much as I'd love to just go away to that happy feeling place... waking up three years from now with four kids and another one well developed... that is not going to end at all well for me.

There is a bunch of silly things I have to deal with, being a transgendered girl, who has found herself attracted to women.

First off, is the notion going around people's heads that I think repeating a terrible scheme from 1960s sitcoms of dressing up as a girl, and sneaking into the girls spots will get me laid, is something other than moronic.

Second off, a lot of girls in the place I live have been abused. Many of them have had men as their abusers. A fair amount of them understand grafting a penis onto a person makes them a sex crazed maniac.

Third off: even if I wasn't transfemale... getting somebody I've only known for a couple weeks knocked up is not exactly going to make anybody pleased as punch around me.

To make things worse, my number is insanely high... I'd have to do a proper count again, but it is something like 80, with a 15% margin of error. It could really be 92, it could really be 78... I have been unconscious for enough sex (or drugged up) that my partner count is really just a really damned poorly educated guess.

She, on the other hand, really hasn't had too many partners. Though one of them included a guy she dated for four years, whom she used a rather scary euphemism about their break up. The scary euphemism was "he was confused"... yeah... I get shivers from that... and I know none of that story.

We are both loving the crap out of each other... but... I am forcing myself to be the responsible one. As well, thanks to my childhood of having drug induced rage issues and plenty of time in what looks remarkably like the prison system (without actually being the prison system)... am very good at containing the side of me that wants to fuck the bejeezers out of her.

It kind of helps that if anything happens that ends up hurting her, I'm kind of the one that will get blamed. If an STI shows up (I've been last tested in Octobre, she has never been tested)... it will be my fault. It doesn't matter what reality or logic states... the lynch mobs will fuck me the fuck up.

We have been having issues with protection. It seems that she seems to squirm anytime I try to have a condom on... making entering her impossible. Yet, anytime I don't have one on, the save bet is to keep my pelvis one foot away from her... literally using a foot tends to help it be not as bad.

I've introduced her into the world of Futanari, and she pretty much has stated she is a lesbian for women who happen to have a penis (those are my words... and blame me for them, not her).

The thing is... right now... any time there is anything that doesn't go smoothly in sex... I start to back away, and back off. Block her away from me. Not going smoothly isn't so much "something not sexual happens". Not going smoothly is that there is something with the current safety guidelines that is not happening... which could risk her getting all preggers on my arse.

Then I do the equivalent of putting myself into time out. Where I sit and stare at a wall. Occasionally it is even a Facebook Wall (dry wall is usually less punishing to stare at than Facebook).

The other part... is she has started to get jealous of the time I spend on the computer. Asking what it is I get from the computer that she cannot give me.

Well, for you guys, being the text that I see... it is pretty much like domestic abuse. Sure, I get a few conversations that are nice... but a large amount of stuff online is the sort of chatting equivalent of the tranny hooker on COPS coming out half blurred screaming about how her brother doesn't actually love another woman, and that he is her husband... I try to not model my life after COPS... it can be hard. It is because I am broken.

As much as people try to claim I look things up on Wikipedia and try to out intelligent people on the internet... I don't understand those claims. I'm imagining me being pulled out of a meth den, half nekkid during a prostitution bust... and seeing the stuff I am saying in the chat logs work perfectly fine in those issues.

She has asked me to try doing that with her... and I keep explaining that I am quite certain that this is very much illegal... and the sort of thing many of the women in the building are being kept in protection from.

The thing is... she has stated she doesn't like that I avoid me talking all emo and self hating topics about fucked up shit in my past. She has stated she loves hearing all that depression shit I've went through. I'm just looking at her and thinking, "yeah... but I don't like talking about it."

She hates that I am so hard on myself... but... I don't know any other way to be.

And now she has gone up to her room crying and pissed off at me.

I'm still putting up my wall.

Every time I am happy with her... I mentally stop myself. As I have mentally honed my mind to consider true happiness a trap... something is going to happen. Some group is going to bust in, and tell me that they knew I was a horrible kid. Hell, maybe even Vanessa might start laughing in my face stating that she only pretended to like me... like every girl in middle school and high school ever did. Or maybe I will fuck up... and then I have to deal with the women lynch mobbing my ass... with Vanessa not being able to do anything.

See... any girls that have been into me, usually have this insane notion they can handle a lynch mob... until they kind of have to handle a lynch mob. Then they act confused at the stuff I stated being true... you know... having dealt with several lynch mobs in my time.

I have no idea what to do...

I expected myself to be attracted to men. I put up all my weapon proficiency points into being able to seduce and keep a man. And now... my body deciding to be into women kind of has me going... well fuck... maybe there needs to be like a GameFAQs on how to excel at life.

No, the Bible really doesn't count. I checked into the Catholic Church to rebel from my Orange Irish mom as a Teenager. Yeah... most teenagers look into worshiping Satan, I look into going to Sunday Mass with the mortal enemies of my mother.

Hell, I've even pretty much confirmed that I don't even chase women who are into me. Which is why I kind of stopped bothering. As usually if I was chasing a woman... it usually was the first sign they were not into me.

She is pissed off... I am pissed off. She is now going to be acting like she doesn't want me to hold her... I actually honestly don't want to hold her now. Having actual limits on how much touching I am generally okay with.

She kept talking about her wanting to know what my dark past is about. Me stating that I don't want to really bring that up, if at all possible. Her thinking I don't trust her with it, me stating I kind of don't. Her stating that she really trusts me... and AAAAAAAGGGGG!

I'm probably going to show up tomorrow morning with new cut marks. I've already had one blister shower over this.

I keep telling her, I am not good enough for her... she... she doesn't get that I am not good enough for her. She thinks I am beautiful, intelligent, funny, interesting and well dressed. I cannot figure out how to let her know she is wrong in a way that doesn't hurt her.

She doesn't seem to get it.

I don't know how to be what it is she sees me as being.

I am not intelligent... really, I am not. The evidence is literally right in front of her.

I am not funny... no... seriously... I don't even know where that begins.

I am not well dressed... I feel good that I go outside and not completely fuck up my outfits... even though I know I totally look hideous and poorly dressed.

I am very much interesting... but more in the escaped mental patient way... which is the terrible way.

As per beautiful... well... considering how often I have had sex without being conscious for it... I must concede that I might be decent looking.

She tells me to stop being down on myself... I keep telling her I am just telling things how things are.

I have told her, that she is dating the Queen of Swords... her on the other hand... is a Queen of Rods who is trying to be a Queen of Swords... which is not something she will figure out how to do anytime soon. That she should just say what is going on. She has stated that has gotten her in trouble... and yet ignores how I mention that the RCMP detachment in the town I grew up probably has a plaque dedicated to my person.

I don't want to be touched.

She is angry with me.

I only have a few strategies to deal with this...

Why do I do this? has also been cross posted on KatrinaTheLamia's deviant art account.

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