The Ocean

“Alex, I have to tell you something,” Jack mumbled, her face pointed towards the carpet as they sat in the floor of Alex's bedroom. The stereo buzzed softly, some alternative rock station playing through the broken speakers. The room smelt of nail polish as Alex sat crossed legged across from Jack, tongue poking out of their mouth as they concentrated on painting their nails.

This was an activity that wasn't odd for them. Ever since Alex and Jack were kids, Alex had been painting their nails, doing their makeup, even wearing dresses. It didn't surprise Jack at all when Alex came out as nonbinary. The rest of the world might've been shocked, but Jack knew that Alex could rock a pair of heels like no other.

That day, Alex was painting their nails a dark blue, about the same shade as the depths of the ocean. It was a beautiful color, Jack's favorite shade out of all the colors of polish that Alex had in the massive makeup case they kept in the closet.

Alex hummed in response, acknowledging that they were listening, but also still focused on the task at hand. Alex was a perfectionist at heart and one spot of polish on their skin meant that they had to start the whole finger over. Which was a journey in and of itself when one realized that Alex painted their nails in tiny, delicate brush strokes and never did less than four coats per nail.

It was mezmorizing at times, watching Alex paint their nails. Alex treated makeup and the like as if it were an art form and their body was a canvas. Jack had both admired and envied Alex's talent and confidence for years, though it had taken her a while to find out why.

Jack shifted around awkwardly and hugged her legs for support. Her stomach twisted in a terrible, awful way and her eyes stung at the corners. She really didn't want to talk about this but she had to get it out. She knew that Alex would understand, they were her best friend after all. Jack was the first person that Alex came out to when they started question their identity- both gender and sexuality wise. When Alex came out as trans to their parents, Jack was right there with them. She was the first person to acknowledge Alex’s pronouns and was never shy about chewing the ass of anyone who harassed or misgendered them.

Alex was a kind and beautiful soul and there was no doubt in her mind that they would treat her with as much understanding and love as Jack had done for so many years. But there was still that little voice in the back of Jack’s mind, whispering how much of a freak she was and how revolted Alex would be once they found out. That little voice had been there for a long as Jack could remember.

It murmured ugly things in her ear whenever she looked into the mirror and saw broad shoulders, sharp jaw lines, no hips. It screamed at her whenever she looked longingly into shop windows at dresses she wished she could buy. It gutted her out every time she walked into a men's bathroom and reminded her how she would never feel welcome in any public restroom. It taunted her relentlessly, telling her that she was disgusting, wrong, and desperate for attention.

She had tried so hard to silence that voice. To remind herself that it was wrong. She knew that the voice was a liar, that it fed off of her deepest insecurities. She knew who she was and she knew who she wanted to be. All of that had nothing to do with her body. She knew in her heart and soul that she was a girl and there was nothing sick or wrong about that. It was her culture and her society that had it wrong, equating gender to strict boxes, roles, and anatomies.

But despite what Jack knew, the voice was louder. It was violent and consuming and drowned out her own. So much so that she had begun to feel even more powerless than originally. Some days, she just wanted to disappear. To break free from the shame and the dysphoria. She wasn't sure how, but some dark days she humored the thought of swallowing a handful of her antidepressants or taking a razor to her skin.

There was an itch beneath her traitorous skin that was aching to be scratched. She knew that she needed to get the truth out somehow, otherwise she was going to die with it still trapped inside of her, stuck somewhere between her heavy heart and her nonexistent breast tissue. So she took a breath and tried to say the words that she had been practicing in the dark at night to herself for weeks.

“Alex, I-I-I um… I’m uh… Can you paint my nails?” she kicked herself mentally and wished that she wasn't such a coward. She knew what she wanted to say but the minute she opened her mouth, the fear took over and she resorted to panic.

Alex raised their eyebrows slightly, remembering all of the times that they had offered and Jack had refused. But after a brief moment, they just smiled and nodded in that wonderful Alex way. Jack could see the way that Alex's eyes sparkled with that maniacal glint that took pride in the assumption that they had finally worn Jack down. Alex had begged Jack to let them paint her nails for the longest time. But Jack had always said no, lost in her own dysphoria and her shield of hyper-masculinity.

“Sure, Jay, just let me finish mine, okay?” Alex replied sweetly, eyes still focused on their nails.

Jack took in a shaky breath and started to root through Alex’s box of nail polish in order to give her shaking hands something to do. She stared at all of the tiny bottles, full of colors and different kinds of sparkles. They were all so bright and beautiful, but Jack knew that they would always clash with her shame. As much as she tried to tell herself that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her, the dysphoria pulsed under her skin like an invisible bruise.

Clumsily, she grabbed a bottle without even looking at the color and walked back over to where Alex sat just beneath the foot of their bed. Alex was just finishing up the last coat of polish on their left hand when Jack plopped down beside them.

“You're really quiet right now and it's kind of scaring me,” Alex teased with a concerned undertone to their voice. “Are you coming down with something? Did you contract the plague from riding public transit? Because those busses are nasty.”

Jack smiled but it felt fake. “No, Lex, I'm fine. My physical health is fine.”

Alex fixed Jack with a sceptical stare as they blew on their nails. “But what about your mental health?”

Alex always knew when Jack wasn't telling them something. It was both parts because Jack was a horrible liar and that Alex knew her far too well.

Jack bit her lip and looked away as Alex grabbed one of her hands and started to inspect the state of her nails as they blindly searched the floor for their nail file. “I-I’m fine. Don't worry about me,” Jack mumbled unconvincingly.

“Right, and I'm heterosexual,” Alex quipped sarcastically. “Tell me what's up, Jay. Besides the horrible state of your cuticles”

Jack laughed nervously as Alex started to file her nails quickly and expertly. “I'm seriously fine.”

“And I'm seriously not believing you,” Alex persisted as they stopped filing and admired their handiwork. Then they grabbed the bottle from Jack and shook it gently as Jack fumbled for a response.

She was immediately regretting even starting this conversation. She just wasn't ready to do this. She wasn't ready to be put out in the open. Her closet was dark, yes, but it was safe. The light, however, was terrifying and full of uncertainties. It illuminated every single one of her flaws and insecurities. It reminded her of everything that she wasn't and could never be.

Jack sighed and shook her head as Alex opened the bottle and began to paint her nails in delicate strokes. It was a lovely pink color that matched with so many of the adorable sweaters Alex always wore and Jack had stolen on a few occasions. Jack felt her heart do an embarrassingly happy skip in her chest as she watched the color take over. For a moment, she was mesmerized by it all and forgot that Alex was waiting patiently for a response.

“Well that's your problem because I'm fine. I mean, I could make up a problem if it makes you feel better,” Jack joked, trying to sound cheerier than she felt.

Alex just rolled their eyes. They knew that Jack was lying through her teeth, but Alex never pushed Jack to say anything that she wasn't ready to say. So they decided to drop it.

“Alright, fine. But if you ever do contract the plague make sure to tell me, okay?” Alex teased.

Jack just laughed, albeit a little nervously, as Alex continued to paint her nails. Jack watched in awed silence as Alex covered her nails in pink polish. It shouldn't have felt so liberating, that moment when Alex finished and Jack held out her hands to admire the perfect spots of color on her fingers.

Her eyes welled up with moisture as she tried to hold back the grin on her face. But she couldn't help it. For a minute, she felt like any other girl getting her nails done by her best friend. She didn't feel scared or ashamed or confused so just felt normal.

Alex sat back and watched her with a blissful grin, their dimples on display. Jack was lost in looking at her nails, waving her fingers so the glossy polish caught the light. If Jack would've been paying attention she would've seen the way that Alex looked at her. But just like so many other times, Alex stared as Jack sat unaware, lost in her own thoughts.

“You know,” Alex started suddenly, a dreamy tone to their voice. “I really wish that more boys would wear nail polish. It looks so good on you, Jay.”

But Jack didn't hear the way that Alex was talking to her. She couldn't feel the velvety softness of their words and she couldn't see the love written all over Alex's face. She could only hear “boyboyboy” repeating like a mantra in her head. She could only see how awfully large her hands looked as the beautiful colors started to look garish.

The spell was finally broken as she glanced at her reflection in Alex’s full length mirror that sat across the room and saw her short hair, her broad shoulders, her wide jawline. She hated her reflection and it stared back at her with a brutal kind of honesty that made her breath catch in her chest. It was as if the wind got knocked of her the moment the flood started and she began to cry uncontrollably.

Ugly, hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she tore her gaze away. She buried her face in her hands as she sobbed and let the ocean take her. The dysphoria always came in waves, pulling back and ebbing away some days then coming in suddenly at full force on others. The currents were always churning, her soul always restless. Some days it was easier to fight against them, but she was never swimming, just floundering. And in that moment, she felt as if she was drowning.

The world melted away as she was consumed by her own self hatred. She cried for what felt like hours and didn't realize that Alex had their arms wrapped around her, murmuring sweet things into her ear, until the flood stopped. Her head was on their shoulder and she could smell the cologne that they were wearing. Her tears had made misshapen blobs on the fabric of Alex’s t-shirt and she pulled away with a weird feeling in her stomach.

After a few moments, Alex stood up and reached out for Jack’s hand. She handed it to them immediately and let Alex pull her up. She didn't have a chance to move before Alex was enveloping her in a hug, their arms wrapping around Jack’s waist. She curled into them and accepted their comfort and warmth.

Alex had always made her feel safe. When Jack’s head spun off in a dozen different directions, Alex always brought her back. For as long as they had been friends, Jack had never felt more at home with anyone than she did with Alex. They just had this calming air about them that reassured Jack that things would be okay, even if the whole world was falling to pieces around the two of them.

She couldn't say how long Alex held her, but there was something different about the way that they did it. Alex held her as if they were afraid of letting go. Those hands delicately placed on her waist touched her firmly, yet gently. As if afraid that Jack might break apart at any moment.

Eventually they sat down on Alex's unmade bed, a heavy silence between them. Jack wanted nothing more than to just curl up in Alex’s sheets and sleep forever. But she had to stop running from this. It caused her too much grief and made her feel as if she had a graveyard in her soul. She was sick of feeling like she was dying. But she didn't know if she was brave enough to let herself live.

Alex was the one who broke the silence. They probably had a million questions but their tone was even and understanding as they said, “Jack, I know that there's definitely something wrong. Please tell me. I promise you're safe with me.”

"I promise you're safe with me." Those words burned holes through Jack's armor and she found herself looking up at her best friend with a new kind of fascination. Their dark eyebrows were scrunched with worry and their eyes danced with fear and curiosity. Alex's long hair hung in their face messily as they nervously ran their fingers through it.

Suddenly Jack found herself noticing all of the small things that she usually overlooked or rather, tried to pretend that she didn't notice. Like the way that Alex's light blue eyeshadow matched their sweater. Or the way that Alex's lips were painted the perfect shade of pink that made them look extremely kissable. Or the way that Jack often found herself thinking about them.

She turned towards Alex and put a hand on their cheek, brushing her thumb over the barest hints of stubble. She find herself wondering if she could just skip the conversation that was bound to follow and just spend all of her time kissing Alex. This was one more feeling she had tried to ignore but as they sat in the quiet of Alex's room, she felt all of her secrets rising up to the surface.

“I-I-I d-don't really… um know where to uh start,” Jack mumbled.

Alex grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Just tell me what's been on your mind lately, Jay. It's okay,” they said softly and brushed a thumb over her knuckles.

Jack nodded and took in a calming breath before she said, “Well, I've been um… thinking a lot about certain things and they've uh been- they've been around for a while. And I… I've tried to stop myself from thinking them. But the harder I try to push them away, the stronger they come back. And I don't think that I can't ignore them anymore. I mean, I… I want to talk about them but I'm so afraid of-” Jack cut off and gnawed on her lip.

It occurred to her then that she didn't actually know how to voice what she was afraid of. She could see the violence every time she closed her eyes and could taste the blood on her tongue. She could feel it every time she looked into the mirror and her perception of herself clashed with what was expected of her and her body.

But the minute she opened her mouth the words fell away and she didn't know how she could make anyone understand a nightmare that they never had to live. She had never had to do this before. And even though she knew that Alex would understand, the truth was still lodged somewhere behind her heart and her stomach.

She flapped her mouth aimlessly as Alex waited patiently. She was searching so hard to find her words, a senseless kind of panic rising in her chest. She knew that right then would be the perfect moment to just say it. To just tell them. The two of them were alone and Alex was a safe person to confide in. Jack was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't even have the chance to process a coherent thought. She just said it and felt both parts relieved and disgusted as she watched Alex's expression closely.

“AlexI'magirl,” she said quickly, her eyes blown wide both with shock at herself and the fear of it all.

Alex hardly missed a beat before they smiled and pulled Jack into a hug. “Oh, Jay, thank you for telling me. I know how hard it is to keep all that in.”

Jack's shoulders sagged with relief as she recognized the understanding beneath Alex’s words. There was no malice or confusion. Only pure understanding and love. Soon, Jack found herself talking a million miles a minute, describing which pronouns she wanted Alex to use and when, if Jack wanted to change her name and what she would change it to (she wasn't quite sure yet), and coming out. They talked until the sun had started to set and cast Alex's bedroom in a dark blanket of almost-light.

Alex quickly moved past the pronouns, easily adjusting to the change and for the time being, decided that Jack would benefit both psychologically and emotionally if Alex took her mind off of everything. So they laid down on Alex's bed, backs pressed into the mattress and eyes trained towards the glow-in-the-dark stars that the two of them had stuck on the ceiling when they were nine. If she stared at it long enough, she swore she could see constellations, an artificial sense of security.

Jack was aware of the distance between Alex's hand and her own on the mattress. She could feel the heat emanating from their skin and she wanted nothing more than to entwine their fingers together, blue nails contrasting perfectly with pink ones. It was a sudden urge, with a similar force to the ocean waves that pounded in her gut relentlessly day after day. A sudden realization hit her then, in the quiet, as she acknowledged more than one truth that day.

Alex was talking about something or the other, and Jack was paying half-hearted attention, her head elsewhere as she thought of so many things at once. She studied the plastic constellations as she tried to make sense of everything that she was feeling. Her chest was swelling with a warmth that hadn't stopped as soon as Alex had held her like nothing had changed. Like she hadn't just told them one of the biggest secrets of her life.

To Alex, it was normal. She was normal. It was a small thing, a small reassurance, but it filled her with a blinding sort of admiration. She couldn't stop thinking about how grateful she was to have Alex in her life, to have them to support her and keep her safe. Alex gave her peace, and right then, that's exactly what she needed.

Alex's voice brought her back to the present world as they said, “...so I was thinking that I could take you shopping or something sometime, help you pick out some new stuff.”

And she was so happy and ecstatic that she didn't even bother to humor the pessimistic side of her that reminded her that she probably wouldn't be able to wear any of the clothes anyway. Instead, she just rolled over and bear hugged Alex, wrapping her legs around them and placing her head on their chest.

“That would be amazing,” she murmured into Alex's sweater, the smell of their cologne hitting her again, along with the natural smell of their skin. She was so close to the soft skin of their neck and a tidal wave crashed inside of her as she thought about how much she wanted to kiss them there. To feel her lips melt into the soft curve where Alex’s neck met the edge of their jaw.

But she eventually pulled back and sat up before she could get carried away- before Alex could wrap their arms around her waist and pull her closer. Then she would melt, then she would give in. And just like that, she would risk losing her peace, her anchor. So she pulled away and she smiled as she humored another less dangerous thought.

“I was actually wondering… if you would let me go through your closet?” Jack asked coyly, biting her lip as she smiled.

Alex's closet was a sacred place that no one was allowed to go in except for them. It was color coordinated and organized meticulously, with a variety of beautiful clothes that ranged from overalls to oversized sweaters to fancy dresses. Alex loved clothes and since they had come out, had been able to express that love openly through vibrant outfits and beautiful makeup.

Alex's face lit up and they practically squealed as they immediately got up and excitedly tugged Jack over to the closet. They flung the doors open quickly and grinned as they started to flick through items of clothing on the hangers. Jack stood back and watched them work, pairing together outfit combinations and colors, losing themself in their own little world.

For the next hour, Jack let Alex play her stylist, eventually settling on a lovely cream dress covered with pink roses- the same shade as Jack’s nail polish- with a poofy skirt that tented perfectly around her waist. Then Alex had applied Jack's makeup, though the process was fairly slow and painful because Jack kept opening her eyes as Alex was putting on her eyeliner and getting stabbed in the eye with the eyeliner pencil.

But afterward, Jack knew that it was worth it when she looked into the mirror and saw her dark eyes outlined beautifully, accented by light pink eyeshadow, the barest traces of blush on her cheeks. Alex had found one of their wigs and secured it over her head with care as she stood there, in awe. She was captivated by her reflection, eyes wide and glassy as she stared into the mirror on Alex’s dresser. After the wig was in place, Alex stood behind her, a sheepish smile on their face and she remained utterly floored by her appearance.

She stared at her reflection in a different light, feeling like something was flying free inside her. Like a caged bird had finally been set free after so many years of crying out behind the bars of her ribcage. For the first time in a long time, she liked what she saw in the mirror. And the ocean inside of her was calm.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice that Alex was touching her arm, thumb grazing over skin and silk, expression thoughtful and serene. This woke her up slightly, and her eyes still trained on the mirror, moved down from her face to her torso. The dress hugged her perfectly, not bagging or bunching around her non-existent breasts, and the skirt pooled just so that it gave the illusion that she actually had hips and wasn’t the skinny beanpole she knew she was.

Alex noticed how her hands roamed over the fabric in amazement and smiled proudly. “I have to alter most of my dresses so they fit in the chest. I had to bring in the waist a little bit, too. But I usually have to tweak everything I wear a little bit. It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

Jack had no words. She could only nod, dumbfounded. Alex rested their chin on Jack’s shoulder and murmured, “You look beautiful.” Jack felt her heart thump against her sternum, louder and fiercer than the waves had ever been. She saw her blush in the mirror and looked away, eyes falling to the carpet. It felt strange and exhilarating to hear that word. She had never, in her seventeen years, been called “beautiful” before. And it was more than that, too. Never before had she ever actually felt beautiful. The fact that the compliment came from Alex just made it all more wonderful and overwhelming.

However, she was especially taken aback when Alex said, “You always have.”

That’s when the tears came again, but this time they weren’t as heavy. They didn’t hold any pain or remorse, only joy. She tried to stop them immediately out of fear of smearing her makeup and then felt a giggle form in her chest as she realized how happy she was to have this problem.

In her giddiness, she turned around to face Alex, who grinned at her unapologetically and she grinned right back. They stood there, in the light of Alex’s vanity and the secret that they both shared. Alex slowly grabbed Jack’s hands and held them between their own, brushing their thumbs over the glossy surface of Jack’s nails. Then Alex looked up at her, grin still affixed, but there was something different to it.

She couldn’t quite place it until that crooked grin was melding into her own, still smiling as they kissed. Then she knew with a beautiful kind of certainty. She felt it inside, as the ocean waves rolled in and out. Peaceful waves lapping at the shore. As Alex’s lips rolled softly against her own she felt the tide pull out again. And so close to shore, she knew that she was finally learning how to swim.