little light lady

"I cannot tell you the complete, fundamental shift that I have felt in the year since having surgery. I knew that I wanted top surgery for a decade; it's the longest I've ever thought about doing anything. The place where I went, I had that clinic's website open on my laptop for five years. It was this impossible mountain: I want that, but I'm never gonna get it. No one's gonna let me, blah, blah, blah. To have that be in the past now... I stand differently, I walk differently, I carry myself differently. It feels different in my body than it ever has. I have just never been happier. I've never been more centered. I've never felt more stable and present and alive. It's the best thing I've ever done for myself. It’s taught me a lot. The recovery process taught me about rest, accepting help, and caring for my body as something connected to me rather than separate from me, that I’m in opposition to: This is mine and I want to take care of it. I feel good in it and good about it. Part of cis people's fear around gender-affirming surgery is the fear of surgery at all — 'Oh, my God, but that's painful and scary!' My reaction to that is, 'No, no, you misunderstood. It was painful before. Your worry has kicked in at the wrong time. The right time to be concerned was about the pain I was in before this. I'm great now.' Everybody else's concern for me has been on a delay. There's no need to be concerned anymore. That's so freeing."

I truly don’t really, like, think of myself [on being famous] that way I suppose, but when I get recognized for ‘Drivers License,’ it’s definitely different, or other songs that I’ve written. That’s always like a cool feeling, ‘cause I think I’m so myself with my songs, so when people are like, “Oh, I love your songs,” it feels like I’m being seen, like, very deeply. So the songwriter’s dream, to have people resonate with the songs that are close to your heart.

How he feels about her. How hopelessly he follows her and loves her despite knowing he'll never be enough.

He considers proclaiming, begging, with a list of everything that he could do for her even if it wasn't much.

He can't last in her world. He can't take her out to dinner and argue with her over the check or wrap his arm around her in the halls. All that he can provide is waiting arms when she gets home, and adoration so unwavering that he was willing to give up music for it.

She can have the shirt off of his back even if she doesn't need it. He'll support her in anything and everything she does. He'll sit in Carlos' room when the younger Molina needs to talk to a fresh face and he'll teach the kid guitar like he's Luke's own little brother.

He would willingly die for her again - he doesn't need to have another chance at fame, he doesn't need his name on anything. She could be the only one who knows, and as long as his name lingered in her mind, he could be proud of his sacrifice.

He can't give her much. He can't give her normal. He can't give her any peace.

But he can love her after the stars burn out, and he can love her when everyone and no one is around. He can hug her and keep her warm on the cold days that sink into her bones with sadness.

She's given him the chance to reimagine his career, his life, with her - her mind is so vast and yet Luke wonders if he's important enough to fit in it. He knows the details of their situation can flaw the whole idea of them being together.

And he wonders how much it holds her back.

And he wonders if there is anything that would be enough to get her to reconsider.

(Sometimes, Love isn't enough. And it scares the shit out of him - because it's all he has to offer her.)

--