depresso

It has been a beautiful day. You're sitting in a restaurant, flushed and rosy-cheeked from those two glasses of white wine. The excitement of the evening has been replaced by post-meal drowsiness, and the creeping warmth of carnal satisfaction is spreading throughout your entire body. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet chatter of other diners; a mellow aura of contendedness that rolls like soft waves across the room.

You hear the shuffle of the chair opposite and watch as your boyfriend gets down on one knee. Your heart begins to pound, and that is when he says it:

"I am leaving you. You have no womb to bear my children. Nature has given you no complement to my life-giving seed. Our love will never produce fruit. I am sorry, but I wish to raise a family, and you cannot give me that."

He gets up and leaves. The chatter stops. The air feels cold and clammy. Night has come.

u know being an emo kid quit being fashionable in like 2008, rite?

It has been a beautiful day. You're sitting in a restaurant, flushed and rosy-cheeked from those two glasses of white wine. The excitement of the evening has been replaced by post-meal drowsiness, and the creeping warmth of carnal satisfaction is spreading throughout your entire body. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet chatter of other diners; a mellow aura of contendedness that rolls like soft waves across the room.

You hear the shuffle of the chair opposite and watch as your boyfriend gets down on one knee. Your heart begins to pound, and that is when he says it:

"I am leaving you. You have no womb to bear my children. Nature has given you no complement to my life-giving seed. Our love will never produce fruit. I am sorry, but I wish to raise a family, and you cannot give me that."

He gets up and leaves. The chatter stops. The air feels cold and clammy. Night has come.

cool story bro

but it sounds like your bf didn't love you in the first place

It's a beautiful late-morning Friday. You're standing by the kitchen counter, buttering sandwiches in preparation for a picnic you have planned with your boyfriend, who has booked the afternoon off work to spend time with you. In hindsight, it seems a little corny to have cut the sandwiches into little heart shapes, but you think he'll like it anyway. You ponder for a moment what to do with the leftover pieces of bread - perhaps the ducks will enjoy them, you think, placing them into a small ziplock bag.

An arm snakes its away across your midriff and pulls you back into a tight embrace. You recognise at once the familiar scent of your boyfriend, even he kisses you on the back of your neck and around your ears. Tension oozes out of your body and dissipates into the air, replaced with warm feelings of contentment and security. It lasts for one long singular moment, and then it breaks into hisses and rumbling.

You wake. Cold air licks at your body. The shelf above you shakes to the groans and exhalations of a garbage truck outside. The dream avoids any attempt to snatch at it, and instead shrinks and recedes back into whichever part of your mind it came from.

You get out of bed and wrap yourself in a blanket, its warmth and comfort a pale imitation of the human intimacy you crave. It will be another long and lonely night of posting on /mtfg/ for you.

It's a beautiful late-morning Friday. You're standing by the kitchen counter, buttering sandwiches in preparation for a picnic you have planned with your boyfriend, who has booked the afternoon off work to spend time with you. In hindsight, it seems a little corny to have cut the sandwiches into little heart shapes, but you think he'll like it anyway. You ponder for a moment what to do with the leftover pieces of bread - perhaps the ducks will enjoy them, you think, placing them into a small ziplock bag.

An arm snakes its away across your midriff and pulls you back into a tight embrace. You recognise at once the familiar scent of your boyfriend, even he kisses you on the back of your neck and around your ears. Tension oozes out of your body and dissipates into the air, replaced with warm feelings of contentment and security. It lasts for one long singular moment, and then it breaks into hisses and rumbling.

You wake. Cold air licks at your body. The shelf above you shakes to the groans and exhalations of a garbage truck outside. The dream avoids any attempt to snatch at it, and instead shrinks and recedes back into whichever part of your mind it came from.

You get out of bed and wrap yourself in a blanket, its warmth and comfort a pale imitation of the human intimacy you crave. It will be another long and lonely night of posting on /mtfg/ for you.

>cold air licks your body

thanks, now i have a new fetish >:c

This is so bothersome, honestly. I work my ass off on a daily basis to pass as well as I possibly can. I'm too fucking poor for any kind of hair removal and have to shave daily. Another issue about income is that until I save enough money, I'm a sitting duck living with my parents who still want me to be a man after the better part of two years on HRT. I can get neither my family nor most of my old friends to accept me despite how much I've put into this. Every time I ever make a new friend or anything I keep them at arm's length for fear of them meeting someone who would out me. I can't even really be socially transitioned while I live in my home town, because the only people who see me as a woman are the ones who didn't know me before I transitioned. Even then, they think I'm cis so if most of them knew I bet they'd think I'm a freak. All of the bridges I've burned, all the money I spent, all the damn time I put into learning mannerisms, voice, makeup, etc has been so that I could blend in as a normal woman. I don't wanna be some tranny weirdo. I don't fucking want people to see me as a "trans woman;" I just wanna be a damn woman.
And then there's people like her. She wasn't even on HRT yet when the media, her parents, and everyone were first calling her a girl. She doesn't even fucking shave enough to keep away the beard shadow. There doesn't seem to have been any voice work. She's a delusional hon who won't even try. Where I live someone like that has very good chances of being harassed or even beaten. What does she get? Her parents accept her and everyone seems to just take her at face value as a woman, even with all that fucking body/facial hair. There was no challenge for her. She just came out and because she has a rich father who made people laugh she gets the fucking VIP treatment.
Meanwhile, girls who work their asses off get treated like garbage by a society that'll only accept you if you're some rich fuck who has the money to not care

It's a cool, cloudless evening, and the sky is full of stars. The air is dry, and you sit wrapped up in a blanket. It isn't really cold enough for it, but your boyfriend wanted the excuse to have you cuddle up to him, and you couldn't resist the eyes he gave you as he called you over. Now you're pressed up against each other, his arm over your shoulder, your head pressed into the crook of his neck. For a while you just sit there, comforted by the feeling of his chest rising and falling, by the way your breathing has fallen into the same rythm.

You're surrounded by him, by his smell, by his arms and for a second you feel overwhelmed by how you can be so happy together. You look up at him, smiling through warm, contented tears, and he kisses you gently on your forehead, turning to face you and stroking a hand through your hair. His eyes stare straight into yours, both pairs brimming over with a love for each other you can't express in words. Then, he pulls you closer, wrapping you up in his arms and whispering in your ear that he loves you more than he ever thought he could love anyone.

You don't wake up, anon. It's not a dream, like for a moment you think it could be. He loves you, you love him, and you can be together; happy, for just as long as you want.

It's not a dream, it's a future.

Don't give up hope.