I haven't told any of my friends about the surgery. I don't really know why. I guess because I've talked about it for so long I don't want to have to go through it again with new people. And maybe because they won't approve. And maybe because I like the idea of setting up a kind of test. In the sense that I want to know what happens when I see people and I suddenly have smaller breasts. Will they notice? What will they say? What would that say about how breasts play into my identity?

You know, typing this out has been really helpful. I think that explains pretty much all of why I don't want to tell people. Haven't told the ex. Haven't told the good friend nearby. Haven't told most of the people here at all. Told one person who left and another who won't be here next term. So I think it's pretty much under wraps from everyone. And there's something about that I like. The only thing I'm a little afraid of is what happens afterwards. I mean, would people be offended that I didn't tell them? I guess I'll have to see when it happens.

Otherwise there's a minor issue of not having a therapist. Maybe I'll get a new one, maybe not. I think I would like to talk to someone about my feelings about relationships, both platonic and romantic. I spent a while today talking to someone who I'd love to be proper friends with next semester. We had a really good, really long conversation and we hugged and she agrees that she'd like to be friends. I made a list of my own.  A list of people I'd like to be better friends with next term. It's a good length for a list. People who I think could be good friends. People who I like and would like to spend more time with. I'm feeling alright on that score. I'm looking forward to seeing people over the summer, friends from before. I think it'll be better than before because I'm a happier person.

The romantic side of things is much harder. I've sort of started to see people who I think might be crush material. One male-identified person, one female-identified person. And maybe two people I'm going to be living with. But I can't bridge the gap of actually imagining myself with someone. And by that I don't mean in a relationship, I just mean making out or having sex or whatever else. I can't imagine it. I guess I'm kind of hoping that having new breasts will let me explore my body again. For the first time, again. And maybe going on some dates in the city Proxy-Connection: keep-alive Cache-Control: max-age=0 ll help too. Sort of a dry run. Dates with people I don't actually care about. So no pressure. Just a chance that I can find out how to feel sexy again.

There it is again. The revelation. I don't know how to feel sexy like this. I don't know how to feel butch and sexy. Or soft butch. Or whatever the fuck it is I am these days. That's something that I could explore with a therapist, I think. Or just something to look into the same way I've been looking into other things. I think I'm going to wait for the surgery. I'm not overly horny or overly lonely in a romantic sense, so I'm not in a big rush. I'm just going to spend a summer working on myself and preparing myself for next term. And then I'll be in fucking awesome shape. I'll know that there's a great place waiting for me, a place that will make social self-improvement worth it. And a place where I could conceivably have a relationship. Maybe.

Okay, I feel much better about all of it. I think. I still want to get back home so I can start doing things, start making collage posters, start doing insurance things, start planning a surgery date, start planning a trip to visit my father, start making a new online dating profile, which means thinking about myself as well as who I'd like to be with. But between now and then I get to cement some tentative friendships and do some pleasure reading. And take a look at where I'll be living next year. And make obsessive lists.

Now I'm going to go to this event, not because I'm interested, but because there will be people there and also food. And that means I can feel like I've done something and then go to sleep. I'm so tired. That's a product of fucked up sleeping schedules, I guess.