I'm From Driftwood

by Robin K.

I sat down. She gazed at me, sitting peacefully.

I don’t know why I was scared. I knew that there was no reason to be. She wouldn’t care in the slightest, but still my stomach was in knots. But something in me was saying that I had to do this; that coming out to someone - anyone - would somehow relieve a little of the weight I was carrying.

So I took a deep breath and said, “There’s something I need to tell you.” 

She was as impassive as ever.

“I…” I stuttered and stalled. This was completely irrational! Then again I’d always known that this wasn’t going to be about her - I just wanted to finally say it aloud. More than that, I wanted to say it to someone. It made it more real somehow, as if it was no longer some fiction in my overactive imagination, but cold hard fact. And that could scare anyone, couldn’t it? And if I didn’t make this first step, where would I end up anyway? If I couldn’t come out to her, then I couldn’t come out to anyone, and it would be hard enough already without any added stress over my own self-doubt.

“I’m… I’m transsexual…” I said. Despite the first stutter, it was amazing how easily it rolled off the tongue. As expected, she just stared back at me.

“… And gay.” I added. And why not? It felt good to let my secrets out. Actually, a lot better than I’d expected. I was surprised that I’d been so emotionally invested in the thing. The idea had been a sudden whim, and yet… It was stupid, but I felt better for it.

She lay down, folding her paws under her body.

It probably seems odd, but as I think about it, the thing had a bit of sense to it. The cat, who I was cat-sitting for my neighbour, is probably the closest thing to a friend as I have at the moment.

And anyway, an avalanche has to start somewhere right?

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