It's hard to see the bigger picture if you're standing in the middle of it
Blinded by our senses
Complacency becomes us
It's the world we live in
A whole lot of black, a whole lot of white but mostly, a whole lot of grey
The greatest illusion is that yesterday, today and tomorrow are consecutive
That time is linear
We marvel at the vastness of what lies beyond our five senses
At the infinite possibilities beyond what we can't see
But cower at the evidence of things not seen
Chasing horizons becomes an unattainable obsession
My eyes are open but i never see what you're showing me
We're looking at the same picture but we have different images
I know you're speaking but i have no idea what youre saying
I'm listening but i can't hear you
I've often wondered how deep i could go if i dove into your soul
Your eyes are the magnet that draws me
I have loved you with a love that is frowned upon
I yearn for you with a desire that's fobbiden
I need you the way hell needs sinners
If love is pure, why is loving you so wrong?
I taste music on your lips,
Sweet melodies serenading my soul to slumber
I just need some clarity
What is life if I can't love?

I'm just trying to live my life
Like any other human being
I get on the bus, sit on the guys side
I go through my day-to-day

I get called down to the office
I'm told I have to sit on the girls side because I'm in the system as a girl
I tell him I'm not a girl and the heteronormative system is ridiculous
I didn't do anything wrong and sit by myself anyways

He says he will see what he can do
In the hallway not long after, after school ends, going down stairs
I group of kids scream near my ears
I mumble to myself and they touch my head

I said stop
They didn't stop
I turned around
And for the first time in my life I lower myself to violence
And punch one in the leg

I break down
I'm lucky to work with such wonderful people in theatre
I just want to live my life
I just want to be left and not harassed

Im told I can sit on the boys side
I have to sit alone
I can only sit in the front or back
I have to tell the stranger next to me he can't sit there

I want to tell him why
I don't want to out myself
I have to give up the ounce of validation of being treated like a normal guy on the bus by the other guys, who are unafraid to get in trouble for sitting with me cause they don't know what I am or care

I wish...
I wish I was born right just like he and every other guy on the bus

But if I was I would not be me.

I could not understand my own struggles
Or sympathize so much with others

I could not learn and adapt the way I do now
Could not have taught myself to be brave in the same way I am

I could not have the experience of having kids with my spouse the way I want to

I would not have needed to stand up for my rights or that of others

I would not have addresssed my lack of understanding and my internalized transphobia

I am stronger for who and what I am.
My gestalt.
For learning to come to terms with the harsh truths of what I am to the world.

If that wish came true, I would not be me. I would not be
Orion.

1
When I tell you this story, remember it may change: god loves all (but not really).
Leviticus 18. Man shall not lie with man. “god hates that.” Leviticus, I don’t like you. You are the reason why people hate us. god makes no mistakes. he is the one who loves all. he who loves all (“unless you’re a ******”).

2
Unless you’re a ******. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. But apparently, we are the sticks. A bundle of sticks. The fuel to your hateful fire (the fire of your demise, not mine). Hate kills. We’ve all seen it happen. June 12, 2016 (only four years ago). Suddenly the pulse stopped beating.

3
Dad. All a kid wants is to make their dad proud. What about when dad isn’t proud of you? What if dad isn’t proud of you all because of something you can’t control? Can you hear me, Dad? I love you. Will you say it back? “The bible says it’s wrong.”

4
Coming out of the closet: a metaphor for LGBT people's self-disclosure of their ****** orientation or of their gender identity (Wikipedia). Hey Dad. Remember when I came out? I cried. Mom yelled at me while you stood there, stoically, with the look of a man who just lost his youngest child. You quietly told me you loved me no matter what because I will always be your daughter.  You haven’t said you love me since.

5
Do not use our love as an excuse for you to hate. Why are we the disgusting ones? Your attitude reflects in the eyes of the devil himself. I wish I could make them understand. The love I have for her, he has for him, she has for her. It’s no different than the love she feels for him and he feels for her. We are all the same. God loves us all. God created everyone exactly the way they should be. Love is the basis of this religion, yet you cherry-pick those who you believe are deserving of that love. You attempt to take on the role of a God that is not yours to assume. Only God can judge. God can judge. Can judge. Judge. You are not God. Are not God. Not God. God. I guess things really can get lost in translation.

6
“I don’t hate anyone, I just don’t agree with it. In the bible, it says it’s wrong, and I place my faith in the bible because it is the word of [G]od.” One could argue that’s not hateful. And to any other (“normal”) person, it probably appears fine. “It’s their religion. It’s their beliefs. Just respect it and move on.” But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you hear us? Screaming from the pits of hell that you said we were destined to burn in?  It’s not the hell you’re thinking of, though. It’s hell on earth. A hell that you created for us through your twisted up version of this religion that’s supposedly based on “love”. One we have to live through every day. “I still love you, but I don’t agree with your choices.” That gets tiring to hear after a while, you know? Replaying on a loop in our heads, day after day, night after night. “I still love you but…” The unacceptance is exhausting our minds. It’s not a choice. Why do you think we’d choose this? Why would we choose to live a life where so many people hate us?

7
June of 2019. I went to Baton Rouge Pride. You drove me, dad. You drove me there and walked in with me. Granted, you didn’t know about me yet, but you went with me anyway. Once you saw that I was with my friends, you left. Mom said you went to get coffee. When I asked why you left, she simply offered that you “just aren’t comfortable with this type of thing”. You’re still not comfortable. Sorry about that.

8
Dear Leviticus. I still don’t like you. You are the reason why people call us *******. You are the reason why people call us *****. You are the reason people think we’re disgusting. You are the reason why people hate us. Man shall not lie with man. “god hates that.” (You are the reason why my dad no longer tells me he loves me.) Thanks god.