“I’ll start at the beginning I suppose. My name is Hyacinth Orion Williams. I’m 24 years old. Born and raised in Melba, Idaho. I have one brother named Phoenix and two dads, Sparrow and Thomas. Sparrow is the person who understands me most in the world as he went through the same struggle with gender as I did, being transgender, female to male. He carried my brother and I. My parents found out about us when they were barely 20. My birthday is August 23rd. It took me until I was 15 to accept that I was nonbinary,” I shrugged, looking at the fire, “I would sit in front of my mirror and try to convince myself I was a boy. But it never worked. I didn’t believe myself. I finally talked to Sparrow and he helped me embrace everything. Took me shopping to buy an entirely new wardrobe of clothes that made me feel like Hyacinth, started using they and them instead of he and him just like I asked. My parents never asked me to change. But I was still struggling. I was bullied intensely in school for the way I look. My hair. My eye. I thought it would be better if I was dead. So I started to hurt myself,” I slowly pulled my sleeves back to show Thélio the massive amount of self harm scars on my arms, “little by little, day by day. There was always a light for me though. Someone around who made me feel whole. Ocean. Ocean Eden Palakiko. My best friend since the age of four. I was hopelessly in love with him and he… he never noticed or if he did he didn’t care. Until we were 16. We got into this stupid fight because he was once again dating my friend Roe. I was so mad he just… couldn’t love me. It hurt but I knew I was being selfish. I started fighting a tree,” I flipped my hands to show him how scarred my knuckles were, “that’s how I took my anger out. Swift violence against myself. Hitting things, hurting myself. Whatever it took to feel normal again. Ocean found me. It was Christmas Eve and my parents had taken Phoenix out of town. I wanted to be alone so they let me stay behind. I walked to the park after Ocean messaged me to ask if he could use the den to mess around with Roe. He did it all the time when my parents left but I remember it hurting me a lot that day. I had just truly accepted that I loved him. So… I left the house so that he could use it for whatever he wanted. Started hitting my favorite tree. Ocean found me, told me to stop and grabbed me. I swung on instinct. I couldn’t control myself at that time. I broke his eye socket and we stood there screaming at each other. I kept telling him to stop acting like he gave a shit about me because I knew he didn’t and he told me to stop and just talk to him. He grabbed my arms. I panic when I’m restrained without understanding why so I begged him to let me go and he did. I ran home as fast as I could. That part was hard with my eye but I got there and slammed the door behind me, sitting on the floor in front of it as I wept loudly. Ocean had apparently chased me. He started banging on the door, yelling about how much blood was on it and I realized I was steadily pouring blood out of both my hands. So I let him in,” I laughed bitterly and Thélio looked at me confused, “I let him in because he agreed to clean my hands. We were in the main bathroom of the house, I was on the counter avoiding any interaction as he wrapped my hands and he kept asking if I’d taken my medication that day. I hadn’t yet and that was part of why I was so mad. But it shouldn’t have mattered. Ocean called me naive. Blind. That my inability to see how he felt was ruining everything. Then he… he kissed me. Stole that moment. It was my first kiss. I panicked. I always seemed to panic back then and I hit him as hard as I could across the face. Told him to never talk to me again and to get out of my house. He started to cry and took off running. I hadn’t meant it. I really didn’t but I was scared…” I cleared my throat as I wiped tears away with the blanket, “we didn’t talk for a long time after that until our parents made us. It didn’t go great. But I made a friend since I was no longer blinded by Ocean. Her name is Jenna Delano. She lived with my family for a while after her parents threw her out for being trans. She’s getting married soon, I’m her maid of honor. She kept calling me person of honor, but I told her I didn’t mind maid. Anyway, for three years after Ocean I struggled with a pretty intense eating disorder. I was bulimic. Binging and purging. Starving myself then overeating to the point of nausea. I'm going to lose my teeth. The stomach acid rotted the enamel away. So I'll need to get implants. My esophagus is weak. But I got help. I’ve been seeing a therapist since I was 15 and I have a nutritionist who helps when I need it regarding my old habits with eating. I don’t struggle anymore. But that’s also why I eat nine times a day. Small snacks and meals. I have to put weight back on slowly. I had to train myself to not look at calories and sugar content. I don’t weigh myself because what’s on a scale doesn’t matter. I pay attention to how my clothes fit and when they get too tight I get happy. It means I’ve finally put on a little weight. You had to have noticed I’m incredibly thin. I feel good in my skin. I accept myself as I am because I’m a good person. Maybe a little broken but I have a good heart that’s easily manipulated. Even I see that. I threw myself into my writing, making sure I was helping others who struggled like I did. That’s all I want. To ensure that people with disabilities, mental health struggles,I want them to see that they aren’t alone and can still achieve everything they want regardless of what they look like, what struggles the world has given them, they still matter. Because… because I matter.”

Thélio was silent, staring at the fireplace as well and I gently touched his hand, “Oh Hyacinth,” he whispered, “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I shook my head and he slowly laced his fingers with mine, “I’m okay. I take three pills a day. One for anxiety, one for depression, and one for iron. Nothing serious. I feel good now. But I just thought… it was important you knew. Ocean broke my heart. But I’m past him. I moved on. I went on a few dates. It was fun. Ocean is back in my life. We’re friends again but I keep him at arm's length.”

“I can respect and understand that,” he nodded and I wrapped my blanket around both of us before taking his hand again, “Hyacinth?”

“Your skin is cold,” I cleared my throat, “does anything I just told you bother you?”

“No. Not in the slightest. I appreciate your honesty. That can’t have been easy to share.”

“Actually… for once I didn’t struggle. It didn’t choke me. Not many people I’m close to know. Even my parents don’t know about my struggles with food. I didn’t want to concern them. I’m sure they noticed something was wrong but they never pushed me into sharing. Too scared I would do something rash which was valid as I was incredibly unpredictable as a teenager.”

“Aren’t we all?” he laughed softly and I smiled, laying my head on his shoulder.

I’m not sure why I keep touching him.

It’s so comfortable though.

I’ve never felt like this before.

“I suppose but I didn’t like teenage Hyacinth. You wouldn’t have liked them either.”

“Oh I am sure that’s not true. I would have been your friend. I needed friends. I have three. You. Oliver. Sebastian. I am very alone in the world. Partially by choice. Partially due to a fear of being used. It has happened many times. I was engaged. His name is Eugene. We met in New York. I was eighteen. A baby,” he laughed sadly, “Eugene was… forty. I am not ashamed of that, I do not believe that age matters when you are consenting adults. But uh… he took advantage of my naivety and need for love. Hurt my heart a lot. Called me awful things, made fun of me for… for this,” he leaned away and slowly lifted the right leg of his pants to show the many scars that twisted along his skin, “my leg was deformed when I was born. My foot was backward, my shin weak and muscles stretched further than should have been possible. I had seventeen surgeries by the time I was four. I can walk fine, my leg is strong thanks to exercise but it is hard to look at. It used to bother me but no more. I see it as proof of my strength. But having a fiance who made fun of my fear to wear shorts… that hurt. I did not realize that he was mentally abusive until I met Oliver and he saw our relationship in a different light. One I was incapable of seeing. He helped me get out of it. I was already a store owner in New York. Oliver came in one day on a whim. He is like that after all. We started talking and he hired me to photograph an event for Parallel. This was before he met Sebastian. Anyway, we talked more at the event and Eugene was with me, his hand always on my back to ensure I never left his side. Oliver did not like the way he was controlling my movements and told him to let me go and allow me to be an adult. To do my job. Eugene could not do this and when we got home that evening he attempted to ban me from having anyone outside of him. He wanted me to close my store, to stop working. To simply take care of him. But I am not that kind of man. While I would love nothing more than to take care of a partner, I have to have some semblance of freedom. Doing my job, sketching new designs, creating clothes, traveling. That is all freedom to me. Even if my partner is at my side when I do those things. I would be thrilled and loyal to them and only them. It is how I am. So I packed all of his things and threw him out. I owned our apartment after all. I was already rich. Twenty two and had so much more money than I should have been allowed to have. I fell into an intense alcohol and narcotic spiral. I was taking many oxycontin and anything similar I could get my hands on. I was out of control, Hyacinth,” he sighed, laying his head on top of mine, “I died. Overdosed in a club in Amsterdam. I was 23. It was only three years ago now that I think about it. I woke up in the hospital with my stomach aching as they had pumped it after bringing me back to life. Alcohol was never the real issue. It was an addiction to pills. I went to rehab. I checked myself in for 5 months. It saved my life. I saved myself. That’s how I was told to think about it. I brought myself back and worked through the trauma my family and Eugene left behind in my heart that led me down that road. I still talk to a therapist twice a week. I still have this pain to know my family will never love me the way I need them to. But… I have learned many things. Found and created family is stronger than the blood you are meant to share. In my case anyway. Your bond with your parents and family is lovely. I am not jealous. Rather, I am happy to know that families like that exist. So while I have my own trauma, my own poor decisions, I am healing. I do not believe in being entirely healed, I will always have triggers to work through, but I feel good. I know I have changed and grown.”

“What are your triggers?” I whispered, my heart low as I considered how easily he had wanted to leave the world.

No different than me.

“Loud noises. Gaslighting. Liars. I would rather you tell me exactly what happened, the entire truth than lie to spare my feelings. I can cope and move through things easier that way.”

“Me too. To all of that. Oh and yelling. I can’t handle yelling. If you can’t speak to me as an adult I’d rather you waited until you were calm. Yelling doesn’t get your point across.”

“Do you understand me more now?”

“I do. I also understand why you’re lonely. You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Very much so,” he whispered, gripping my hand tightly, “what I thought was a loving relationship turned out to be someone wanting to manipulate and control my life as I was so young and couldn’t see that.”

“I’m scared too. I was abandoned by someone I loved. But it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I always feel as if Eugene abandoned me. Even if I was the one to throw him out. I do not wish for that to happen again. So yes. I have dated but I don’t trust easily and the red flags are always so strong. My line of work, being around party scenes and things of the like are incredibly triggering. The drugs and pills. It is so difficult for me and I am alone. I do not indulge, I have no need to numb my pain anymore, but having no one there to protect me is difficult. To show me I am bigger and better than I was. I lost many people I thought were friends when I got clean. That hurt me terribly. To know they were only around because I had access to drugs. I am clean. I want you to know that. Three years. And I will never go back.”

“I believe you,” I whispered, gently nuzzling the side of his neck and making him laugh, “and I am incredibly proud of you.”

“What did you just say?”

“I’m proud of you for getting clean.”

“But…”

“Has no one told you that?” I leaned up and turned my body so that I could look at Thélio easier.

“No…”

“I am so proud of you, Thélio Solorio, for getting the help you needed and keeping yourself alive long enough to become my friend.”

Thélio’s eyes filled with tears and he cleared his throat, trying to force down the fact he was going to cry, “that feels so nice to hear. Thank you.”

“Of course. Also, can I teach you something my Pa taught me?”

“Okay.”

“It’s okay to cry,” I gently wrapped my hand around the back of his head, “everyone cries and you never have to have a reason for it. Sometimes, a person just needs to cry.”

Thélio gripped my arm before he slowly allowed himself to relax, the tears sliding down his cheeks and I pulled him close, wrapping him in a tight hug, the blanket covering both of us.

“Shh,” I whispered, laying my chin on the top of his head after he pressed his forehead to the middle of my chest, “I know. It’s okay. You aren’t alone. I’m here.”

“I know,” he hiccuped, nodding slowly, “I do not feel afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Being touched. I am weird about it. I won’t allow people to touch me unless I trust them. I bow instead of shaking hands which is custom here and many places. I prefer to initiate contact but not… not with you. That is strange. I am sorry. I just feel…”

“Safe,” I whispered and he looked up at me with a gentle smile.

“Yes. Safe.”

“Oh I’m going to kill Oliver.”

“Why?” Thélio finally laughed and I wiped a tear away from his cheek.

“For not introducing us sooner. The complete idiot.”

“We met now. Isn’t that what matters?”

“It is,” I returned his smile and he finally sat up, wiping his face with the blanket, “do you still want me to come to London?”

“Of course I do. I would not have made plans to involve you if I was not hopeful you would agree.”

“What plans?”

“Changing where I am staying, things of that nature.”

“Ah. Well,” I looked up at the ceiling before nodding slowly, “I guess we need to go to Idaho in two days. I have bags to pack.”