Just a rant I need to throw to the wind

I don't have gender dysphoria. I'm a cis guy, and being in my first gay relationship has me learning a lot of things I didn't really think about, especially considering my boyfriend is trans. One of those things is learning new terminology, and then embarassingly needing to ask my boyfriend what words mean. Then I relate them to myself and go, "huh, I guess that's what that is." He's described gender dysphoria to me a few times, and that word dysphoria sticks with me a little. His descriptions remind me a little bit about how I feel about myself, but not about gender. I have no quarrel with my body, or my voice, or my identity. Sure, I wish I was a little different, but I just wish I was more masculine. Wish I shed the pounds of high school easier, even if I'm fit now, wish I had a little more muscle in my chest, could grow a beard a bit better (not that that matters anymore). It feels like there is a very key part of me that is wrong. That I am inherently wrong. It's incredibly hard for me to describe. It feels so limiting. I am a limited thing. Something missing? Something that needs to change? Something that needs to be cut out? Something malfunctioning? Rather than something, is it all of me? At what point does the perversion of my sense of self become a conflict with the concept of a self? The concept of MY self? It's hard to be certain, but what is certain is that there is something wrong. That I am wrong somehow. I just can't find it. God, imagine how much it would SUCK if I knew exactly what was wrong, down to the letter, but there are no words in English to describe it, so I’m left clawing at my heart for a word to describe what’s happening. To be shackled by concepts that are fundamental to expression of emotion and are completely inadequate. It’s cruel. I feel like I need to be someone else and cut into me to find all the bad.

Is it fear? Do I hate my fear? But what am I afraid of? I'm a good student, a hard worker, a soldier, I'm physically active, I'm the only one of my siblings to go to college, to be accepted into a nice Uni, I'm due to be married to my boyfriend. So really I suppose it must be some kind of obligation to myself to be happy that I'm not meeting and there is a deep part of myself I'd really like to cut out that is preventing that. I just feel like I'm too much of myself to be better. To be above myself, I guess. I'd like to be above myself, my flesh. Horrid thing. I don't like hating things because it killed me a lot to hate things. I hated so much it made me hurt back in the day and It's too tiring now but I think there is a deep ball of hate that I hold just for the cowardice I have to not be better than myself. I don't know if it is fear. It feels as if a fundamental part of my existence is flawed in a deep way. I wrote about this to myself sometime four or five years ago, about this same feeling, and I think I summed it up well by saying "I want to tear in half." Like I have an imperfect soul. I have an imperfect soul maybe. I have something deeply wrong with me. There is too much beauty in this world for me to be in it. I am graceful and I stumble and I am adept at all I do and I've never ruined anything more than myself. I need to live forever and to have never have been.

Something is just wrong. I feel like I shouldn't be.  As a kid I always asked if I was adopted, I never felt like I made sense. I kept asking my parents while I was in high school if they were sure I wasn't. I have my original birth certificate and it feels paradoxical. I don't know if I wanted a justification for feeling like I was never myself or if I couldn't bear to be the son of my parents. I hope I'm not my father's son, there isn't a man I pity more. But I know I am, I've got his perfectionism and his inflections. His "Fuck it, I'm doing this now." attitude. "Don't live in fear, son, your grandmother lived with a lot of fear in her heart and now she's a nervous wreck." and she died last year. She was afraid of me because she couldn't remember me. I don't really think she had a choice, but I didn't see my dad cry. He didn't see me cry either. What will my kids think of me? What if I never change, what if I just stay wrong? I almost don't wat to imagine myself like that, compeletely and totally wrong in my gut. How will they remember me? Will they speak of me in tragedies? Will I be nice and a good father but they can always tell something is wrong with me? Will they talk behind my back like my brothers and I did? Compare horror stories? Dear god I hope not. I can just tell that I'm a lot of puzzle pieces that don't fit, or there are too many, or not enough, or I'm blind and just can't tell the puzzle is fine. But something isn't fine. In my head or my heart something isn't fine. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. I'm becoming stupid, I'm becoming foolish, I've got something wrong with me. Something is just wrong.

If you read the whole thing, thanks. If this sounds like you, like me, let me know.