the secret things that nobody knows somehow you've figured out.

he runs his fingers through his windswept hair, roughly, not caring as he tears at the strands. he tugs a little harder, hoping for some sort of relief from all the emotions bombarding him at all sides. his hand falls to his cheek, soft as only a woman's skin should be. he craves that rough manly touch when he looks in the mirror. his hands keep going, flowing over hips, stomach, breasts which never felt like his. he doesn't understand how that body is what they all see when they look at him, that hairy legs and a bound chest will never equal the muscle and hard edges chiseled away by years of testosterone.  he goes inside and holds himself, his body and the person inside comforting each other as the long day wears on. he can only take so much before the emotions overflow, leaving him in a mess on the floor. he tries to clean himself up, to put on another brave face so that the world never guesses how much he has been through to make this moment possible.  sometimes he runs, hides away with the trees and the mosses and the lovers who don't stop to judge what they are seeing. he fights to stay hidden, to camouflage against the rest of the world. he knows it won't help one bit, but at least it's something. it's something he can do.  <3 <3