Detecting Falsehood

16

I don't want to be more trapped than I already am. That would just make matters worse.

"Taehyung, would you be okay with me coming in?" I hear 21 say nervously on the other side of the door, and I close my eyes, considering saying no then deciding against it only moments later.

That would just be cruel, and I'm sure she has something she wants to say. I'm not gonna stop her from speaking to me just because she was way too drunk last time. She's the only friend I truly have in this place. I can't just give up on that friendship out of fear.

"Yeah, that's okay," I call out after a few seconds of silence, and she sighs out of relief. There's a loud clunk, as she unlocks the door, and then it swings open to reveal my (relatively new) friend.

"How are you?" she asks cautiously, a worried expression appearing on her face for a moment. I shrug.
"Alright," I reply calmly, not seeing my condition as important. "Are you okay?"

She sighs, shrugging and closing the door behind her, crossing the small amount of floor between the two of us, wrapping me in a hug. "I'm worried about you, of course, but other than that I guess I'm surviving."

"Hey," I say quietly, my voice suddenly gentle. "Seriously, what happened?" She just shakes her head, letting go of me and sitting down beside me. "21, tell me what's wrong. I know you. You don't just get that drunk for no reason. Maybe ranting will help make you feel better. Even if we both know I can't do anything to change things for you."

She manages a small smile, my words somehow making her feel better. "I guess I just feel guilty," she admits, "I don't have the right to rant about anything when you're going through much worse. It's selfish to assume that you aren't suffering too."

The corner of my mouth lifts at the fact that she's thinking about her actions in such a way. "You don't need to worry about that, 21. I appreciate the concern, but it's a good way to focus on something else. And right now, I need that."

21 nods, shifting a little before speaking. "I guess I expected life to be easier that it really was," she explains quietly, and I raise an eyebrow at her.
"In what way?" I ask, my voice the same volume as hers.

"I thought that people would be like you," she admits, avoiding my gaze. "Accepting, willing to use the right pronouns. But I was wrong all along, and nobody else seems to be happy to let me be myself. It's weird."

She leans her forearms on her knees, staring at the opposite wall hopelessly, biting her lower lip. "I don't know why, but it almost makes me angry. It seems so simple to me now, being female, but then I'm constantly told that I'm male. My body is male, so why can't I be?"

She turns to me, almost desperately. "Am I just pretending? Is this something I'm faking, something that I'll grow out of in time? Am I really male, or am I female?"

"Look, 21, I can't possibly know what's going on in your head, but I do know one thing for certain. Whatever you are, you're incredibly strong. And you don't need to know what gender you are, not yet. It takes a long time to come to terms with yourself with things like these. It's okay to be confused."

She buries her head in her hands. "Are you sure about that?"
"Completely certain. I had to understand my own sexuality and accept it as well, so I know how it feels to be concerned about your identity, I really do. Sure, sexuality and gender are completely different, and the journey is different, but some of the emotions are remarkably similar."

She tilts her head, frowning in confusion. "Your sexuality?"
"Gay as fuck," I say bluntly, laughing at the surprise on her face at my bluntness then wincing as my ribs twinge at the movement.

"I've known for too long to be ashamed about something like that. I can't change it, so I learned not to care as much as I used to. If anyone refuses to accept me, I just ignore them. It's part of me, and I'm proud of it. Nothing more to say, really."

We sit there in silence for a few moments, as she takes in my words, then she lets out a sigh, and I glance over at her, confused. "21? You good there?" She smiles wistfully, shaking her head.

"How long did it take to get that attitude? How long did you suffer for, before you just gave in and decided not to attack yourself over something nobody accepted and wanted you to get rid of?" she asks, her tone defeatist. "Don't try and tell me it was easy."

I think for a second, trying to remember. "I first started thinking about it when I was eleven," I start, "and I'm like twenty one now. I've been properly accepting of it for about two or three years now, so it must have taken about seven or eight years to truly come to terms with my identity and be willing to share it with others?"

Her eyes widen. "It takes that long?"
"I didn't tell anyone until I was nearly fourteen, because I was scared that I'd be told off for considering such things at such a young age. Then I found out that some of my best friends were the same, and they'd been dating for a few months."

She frowns. "Surely that's-"
"We were all scared of ourselves, and knowing that we weren't the only ones came as a relief. We could finally say we weren't some mutation or something. That's when I started trying to properly consider the idea that I liked boys. Over time, it just slowly became more certain and I began to doubt myself less."

I close my eyes, leaning my head on the back wall, tired. "My point is, don't worry about how long it takes to come to terms with your own identity. You can never stop learning. That's the beauty of life."

"You never stop learning, huh?" 21 muses, and I open my eyes to see a thoughtful expression on her face. "I guess that's true. Thank you, Tae."
"Any time," I return tiredly, smiling slightly, and she seems to notice my exhausted state.

"Get some sleep, I'll visit you later. I just wanted to apologise for last time. I know it wasn't acceptable. And it wasn't intentional."
"I know that, don't worry," I reassure her, spinning round on my butt as she stands up, and laying on my bed. "I'm just sleepy."

She chuckles slightly, nodding as my eyes slide closed once more. "I can tell that. Go on, get some rest."

She's gone not long later, and I fall asleep for real, unable to ignore the rising urge to just rest away the time and the pain.

After all, I can't do anything else. I might as well.