You’ve been dating Steven for what feels like an eternity. You knew him before he even started transitioning, and you’ve been there to support him every step of the way since.

You helped him with every shot of T, every doctor’s appointment with the awful NHS, and every bad day in between.

Unfortunately, today was one of those bad days.

Usually, when you give him his shot, he feels pretty good, the dysphoria settling to the wayside and allowing him to feel more like himself; today, he still felt off.

He’d been fortunate enough to get his top surgery done, the scars having healed nicely—barely noticeable if you’re not looking for them.

He’s spending a lot of time in front of the mirror today, looking himself over, fixing his hair, changing his clothes.

It’s not doing him any good.