Page 85 of Monarch
It’s me. The painting is of me. My face. Tilted to the side, it’s undeniably me. Smiling, laughing, happy. Every single line is blurred, the colours melting into one another, but I see my round cheeks, my pointed chin, my short but messy hair. It’s abstract – reds and pinks and blues and greens and yellows where there should be neutrals and peach-coloured skin and brown hair – but it’s undeniably me.
It’s me and I look beautiful. I look happy. I look like I know I am loved.
I drop my eyes to Lex again.
Maybe I do. Maybe I do know that I am loved.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Roos
One Month Later - April
“Well, you make it look good,” Joel says as I hand him a plate with a slice of boterkoek on it.
“I make what look good?”
“Epilepsy.” He takes a bite.
I laugh at his joke. “You haven’t seen me having a seizure.”
“This is good cake,” he says with his mouth full. He washes it down with a gulp of tea. “How do they handle it? Lex and Mari? When you have a seizure.”
“Okay, I think. I’m so in and out of it I can’t really remember what it’s like when it’s happening, but I know they scowl at each other a lot less these days.”
“How many have you had now?”
“Seizures? Five in total, but they’re getting shorter and more infrequent.”
“And how are you feeling about it all?”
“About epilepsy? Well, it’s a plot twist, that’s for sure. But honestly, the thing I was most scared of was when they said it could be related to my drop in testosterone. I panicked that the doctors would tell me I’d need to stop HRT. That was what I was most terrified about.”
“I can understand,” Joel says in a sombre tone, and I know he does.
“But that hasn’t happened.” I smile.
“That’s good. One less thing to wrap your head around.”
“Yeah, my head has certainly got a lot to process, surges of electricity aside.”
Joel smiles at my lame epilepsy joke. “You’re doing really well.”
I feel a rush of pride, which is a surprise in itself. Only a month ago, I couldn’t even face talking about my new diagnosis with other people because it made me feel so vulnerable and fragile, and that’s something I associated with coming out as trans, something I have to do over and over again. I didn’t want another ‘thing’ limiting me, another thing making me feel so vulnerable and fragile. I didn’t want another burden to carry when I still have days where my load is already too heavy.
But I’m not in that raw place anymore. At least, not all the time. Thanks to slow days with Mari and Lex, adjusting my work schedule, and the drugs I’m on, I feel like I have a much better handle on it all. I still have days where I’m overwhelmed, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having seizures, but I’m not stuck in panic mode. I know that things won’t always be easy, but they won’t always be difficult either.
“Thanks. That means a lot from you.” I pick up my mug of tea. “Not just because you’re my friend but because you know…medical stuff.”
“Oh, yeah, all that medical stuff.” He waves his hand dismissively, like he isn’t a literal hero in a paramedic uniform for his day job.
“They’ll be sorry they missed you. Mari and Lex,” I explain. It’s Saturday, and Mari is working a shift at Pink Elephant, and Lex has gone to xir favourite Surinamese barbers down the road for a fresh trim.
Joel puts his now-empty plate down on the coffee table and shifts forward on my sofa. “I believe that for Mari. Lex,” he grimaces, “I’m not so sure. But how is it really? Living with them both?”
“Honestly,” I say, leaning back to get comfortable. “And selfishly,Ilike it.”
I smile as I think about the last three months and the rhythm we have fallen into. Mari goes to work five or six days a week. I’m in my office five days a week, finishing early on a Wednesday so I can have some rest or do something for myself. Lex is the homebody who makes us breakfast, packs us snacks and sandwiches for lunch, and xe nearly always has dinner ready or a full fridge when we return. Xir art supplies have increased in the corner of my living room, but I still have yet to see xem actually at work. Mari told me that sometimes Lex gets up and paints in the night, but every morning I wake, the canvases and paints are always neatly tidied away, deliberately stored so whatever Lex is working on is out of sight.
