7. Crumbling
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Ben regretted lending his earbuds to a classmate. The entire day he had lived in fear of his roommate’s next video game-related outburst. Last month it was a Street Fighter type game, before that a generic shooter. He was sure Anthony had told him at one point or another. And unfortunately, another rage-fueled tirade had just begun.

He paused his show. Luckily the living room was far enough away that he couldn’t make out any individual words. Still, it was still enough to distract Super Ball K. Ben threw his head back and clenched his eyes shut. There was a reason he moved in with Anthony, he was sure of it. But times like this made it hard to recall.

They had met in high school and became fast friends. Anthony didn’t care about Ben being trans, as long as he could geek out over video games and anime with him. As for Ben, he liked having a friend who shared his nerdy interests after a childhood of pretending to care about clothes and keeping up appearances.

He supposed that he could put up with some annoyances here and there for the best friendship he’d ever had. Was that sad? Most people wouldn’t think about their best friends like that, right? Not to mention he had in fact felt closer to someone before.

Thoughts of Maya trickled into his head. Usually he would push them out right away, but he was feeling sentimental, like he could use a wave of emotions to break up the monotony. It hadn’t been that long since they had spoken. Just a few weeks, maybe a month. Besides, it was winter break, and the holidays always make it harder to keep up with people. Though Ben wasn’t exactly trying to stay in touch, after all that had happened.

He pressed play on the remote, determined to resume his show. It didn’t work. Anthony was still arguing with his computer while images of Maya were taking root in his mind. Since when did the thought of her upset him? Not long ago he felt nothing but comfort and warmth when she was on his mind. It was the night of their first date, which also happened to be their last date. That was when it began to shift.

 

As hard as it was for Ben to believe, that night was three months ago. They had spent the entire day together, having what he assumed was a good time. Clearly Maya had a different experience. He knew he shouldn’t have rushed things. They got along so well, they clicked perfectly, how could it have gone wrong? Yet, Maya left his place on the verge of tears.

Ben had tried to keep his cool after that. He went to bed that night telling himself it was just a small hiccup, and they would be fine after they saw each other again and talked through it. And he really did believe that for a few days. Their text conversations were as happy and flirty as ever. Maya didn’t seem too shaken by the event. In fact she hardly mentioned it. But soon their responses lost some of their pep. Little by little the happiness that Ben felt when talking to her faded. It wasn’t just on Maya’s end, either. Ben kept replaying that night in his head, wondering what he could have changed. They were both enthusiastic at the start, so how did it end so terribly? Any attempts to bring it up with Maya were immediately redirected. She assured him it was all her fault and nothing to do with him. Of course, that didn’t satisfy him.

Before long, Ben’s mind started to form its own explanations. Maybe it finally sunk in for her that I’m not a real man. That I couldn’t do what a cis guy could for her.

Vague theories and dark thoughts started to twist around in his head, becoming more convincing as they grew more self-loathing. He wanted to believe that Maya wouldn’t see him that way. Of course she didn’t, they were both trans. But maybe?

Each day that passed without him seeing her made him more certain. She skipped the following club meeting. Then pottery class. And when questioned through text she promised it was just a cold, nothing to do with him. Every issue she had, it was the same theme: nothing to do with him, not his fault. Her attempts to ease his conscience made everything worse.

Maybe it should have something to do with me. Why won’t she talk to me and let me help? We’ve both gone through so many of the same struggles, does she really think I can’t understand? That I can’t do anything to help? Am I that useless in her eyes?

After a week and a half of this, Anthony noticed his roommate’s moping around. While Ben had definitely seen his fair share of days cooped up inside, this was something new.

Of course, Anthony wasn’t a standard friend, especially in situations involving the real world. So while your average person in this situation might ask what was wrong, or do something to cheer up their depressed buddy, Anthony took a different approach.

“You should just, like… date someone else.” He would advise.

And of course Ben would always respond with, “Thank you, very useful, I’ll get right on that.”

Miraculously, it never cheered him up.

Finally, after nearly two full weeks, Maya showed up to the club meeting. She told him the night before she was feeling better and would make it. That was nearly enough to make Ben forget every depressing thought that been occupying his mind. Nearly enough. He didn’t like how vague she was about everything, how she refused to open up. Which is why he planned to ambush her after their meeting that day.

It was hard though. He was waiting at a table when she tapped on his shoulder and joined him. The moment he saw her all of the worry and tension and anger that had built up melted away. She was in a cute, fuzzy, peach sweater, and her smile looked sweeter than it ever had before. He hadn’t realized how much he missed looking at her until then, even if admitting it made him feel like a creep.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t recall anything they had discussed throughout the whole meeting. He just remembered the bliss he felt finally being next to her again. Surely they discussed pottery, their club project, small talk. At one point some other members joined them and they played a quick game of cards. But the whole time they never discussed the one thing that weighed so heavily on him. Maya seemed completely willing to ignore the past two weeks and just pretend things were normal. But Ben had been in situations like this before. If they didn’t confront it head on, they would continue being haunted by whatever issue Maya had that night until they hated each other. It was important they dealt with it sooner rather than later.

Once Maya stood up and began to say goodbye, Ben ushered her away from the door where everyone was headed.

“Woah!” Maya had said, clearly startled by the sudden physicality. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Maya, we really need to talk.” Ben straightened his posture and wiped his palms on his pants.

“I’m sorry I was away for so long, like I said I… got sick,” Maya averted her eyes.

Ben had caught on to when Maya wanted to say something but was afraid to. He didn’t want to scold her or anything, she obviously had her reasons for being secretive. Still, he was determined to clear the air.

“I hate to say it, but I don’t believe you.” Ben tried his best to keep eye contact with her, or at least where her eyes would be if she weren’t staring at the floor. “It’s very clear that something happened on our date night. I just want to know what it was. I’m sorry if I did something to upset you or–”

“No.” Maya was now looking right at him. “It wasn’t anything you did, it was all me. I’ve told you that. And then I got sick. Is this really all so hard to believe?”

Ben was caught off-guard by her tone. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard her sound stern before, at least not to that extent. “Maya. Please, I won’t be mad at whatever it is you have to say.”

Her severe expression weakened at the slightest resistance. “I just…” She tucked her hands into her sweater sleeves and stayed quiet, though Ben swore he could hear her breathing get shallower. While she gathered her words she looked left and right to make sure nobody was within earshot. As she moved her eyes Ben could see tears welling up in them.

Oh what have I done... Ben cursed himself for making her cry. He didn’t want that.

Maya sighed and spoke again. “It’s hard to talk about, I guess. I’ve always kept thoughts like this to myself, and I’m not sure how I’ll handle sharing them with anyone.” She took a deep breath. “But I joined this club to meet people I can open up to about this part of my life, so you’re right. I shouldn’t be afraid to talk about it with you.”

Relief washed over Ben. Things might actually be okay. We can overcome this together.

Ben reached out and grabbed one of her hands from her sweater sleeve. “You really can tell me anything. I swear it won’t change what I think about you, or how I feel about you.” Maya smiled, her usual warmth returning for a moment.

“Well that night… I really was happy to be there with you. And I liked where things were headed. But my body is just– I can’t do what I want, I can’t exist how I should. It makes sense in my head, how it should go, but everything’s all wrong. How could I ever be intimate with you and connect with you when I don’t even feel connected to my own body?” Maya wiped a tear that had started streaming down her cheek, yet kept her voice steady. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Just, that night I realized how hopeless it is for me to ever try and be with anyone. I could never give you what you deserve.”

It all sounded too familiar to Ben. He had been silently nodding and squeezing her hand when he felt it appropriate, unsure how he was going to respond when he may as well had said the same thing. Yet somehow the despair she was feeling didn’t hit him in the same way. There would be time later to ponder that. For now, Maya needed comfort.

He pulled her into his arms and held her. “I know how you’re feeling, but you’re wrong, okay? I can’t explain it but I’m one hundred percent sure you’re wrong. I’m so happy just being around you, looking at you, touching you. Please trust me, you’re so much more than I deserve.”

She didn’t respond. All Ben could feel was her quietly sobbing into his shoulder. Guilt weighed on him, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps that he couldn’t make her happy no matter what he said, or that she wouldn’t be here crying her eyes out if not for him. He wanted to keep talking, telling her every little thing he liked about her; to keep trying until he could find the perfect thing to say and stop her crying and fix everything. But a bit of silence seemed to be what she needed. That would help more than anything he could say.

 

Another shout from Anthony’ room freed Ben from the memory he found himself in. This time it was accompanied by a slamming of his desk and before long he was out in the living room. No doubt looking for a snack before retreating to his game again.

“Having fun in there?” Ben asked, already knowing the answer.

Anthony sighed and changed course to the living room. His face looked utterly defeated. Ben would normally roll his eyes at the prospect of caring that much about a game, but after weeks of growing more numb each day he couldn’t find any position to judge from.

“What do you want to order for dinner?” Anthony asked. He leaned against the wall, his greasy dark hair sticking to his forehead.

Ben contemplated. They only ever ordered food it seemed. There was a time they would go out to eat, or even cook a meal themselves. What happened to that? Though this one Ben couldn’t pin on Anthony. Ever since Maya disappeared from his life, he hated the idea of going outside anytime it wasn’t necessary. Some crucial part of his confidence no longer existed.

“Let’s just get a pizza,” he blurted out. He wasn’t a fan of where his mind was headed.

“’Kay.” Anthony fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out his phone.

Their order was the same as always, a huge pizza slathered with every topping that wasn’t a vegetable. Ben sunk into one end of the couch, allowing Anthony to sit while they waited together. As exhausting as Anthony was, he preferred it to being alone.

Once the food was ordered, Ben turned off his show and switched their TV to a video game to kill time while they waited.

It was a fighting game that the two of them spent the better part of their first year at college playing. While Ben couldn’t speak for Anthony, a big draw of it was how equal in skill they were at it and how competitive it made them. Neither of them was better than the other for more than a day or two before the other one improved.

When he ran for his high school team he yearned for a similar feeling. The ability to improve as much as he wanted with no limits. Equal to his peers. It didn’t completely fill the hole left by it. He missed the physicality of running, how he could feel his entire body work more efficiently as he improved. But it was something.

The memory of how guilty Maya looked after he explained his past flashed in his head. She must have thought the subject bothered him, which sure, it did sometimes. With her though, he didn’t feel the usual anger or unfairness that typically swarmed him. He felt calm and understood. She sat and listened and could relate, and everything was good…

 

A week after Maya cried on his shoulder, just when Ben was convinced they had overcome any hardship, things got worse. They were in Ben’s living room, putting the finishing touches on their piece for the fair.

“This is coming together really well!” Ben said in between brush strokes. The last ten minutes had been him painting various details on the base to make it look more rugged. Meanwhile, Maya had been silently positioning the figures on each side of the mirror. He wished she were more chatty that day, his favorite part of spending time with her was hearing her unique thoughts on everything pour out of her with no filter.

Their text conversations were back to normal, which Ben saw as a good sign. And anytime Ben wanted to hang out or grab food she was excited and eager to do so. But there was still something off. It was always Ben initiating everything. She never seemed to want to talk from her end, as if she just went along with it all to humor him.

It’s only been a week. I’m sure she’ll be back to her chipper self again soon. Ben forced himself to see it all in a positive light. Even then, as they worked without any words exchanged, he wouldn’t allow himself to see a darker meaning to it.

“Yeah,” Maya finally agreed. “I hope people don’t hate it too much.”

“What? Why would they hate it?” Ben stopped painting to stare at her.

“Just… you know. Our ex-group members didn’t seem too impressed with it.”

Ben couldn’t disagree. He knew that they made an enemy or two at the club, and it was entirely his fault. The idea that Maya could get caught in the crossfire of his own personal feud upset him. It was easy for him to get riled up when it came to certain topics, he knew that. He swore to himself he would try and make peace with Jamie and Sky, or at least take the heat off of Maya if he could.

There wasn’t much work left to do. They had gotten a lot done on the day they worked with Ethan in the park, leaving only a few main tasks left. As cocky as it sounded, Ben was impressed with their effort. Of course he knew it was nearly all Maya’s doing, but he had never felt proud of a project before then. And it wasn’t just because it looked good. This project was the first time he had been able to articulate his transness in a way he could feel understood. Years of talking with close friends, family, therapists and he still wasn’t confident in explaining such a core part of himself with others. But now, with this, there existed some way to connect with people and get his thoughts across. No chance to stutter or back down; it would be seen.

“If any of them say anything to you about it, don’t believe them,” Ben said before returning to painting. “They’re just upset that I fought with them, it has nothing to do with your idea.”

Maya nodded and stayed silent.

Eventually Ben applied his final brushstroke just as Maya was satisfied with everything’s position. The two stepped back to give it a final look.

“Well, I like it. It looks good! And it has a strong message.” Ben stayed positive for Maya’s sake, not that he had to lie.

“Maybe you’re right. It does look cool.” Maya was already packing away the leftover paint and materials.

“Hey, we should go get food!” Ben suggested. He hoped some time to just relax together without the project there could get them back to their old dynamic.

Maya froze. The whole room shifted and grew colder. Fear welled up inside Ben as he recognized what was about to happen. He’d seen that look before. On one of his high school girlfriends, on a couple of his guy friends who refused to support his transition. He had even worn it himself once before.

He was about to be dumped.

And he knew he couldn’t stop it. Maybe he could have approached things differently and prevented it. Was it space that she’d needed? Or had she wanted him to talk more and be there for her? Too late. Maybe there was never a way to avoid what was coming. Either way, Ben braced himself.

“Ben…” Maya said, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t even fully facing him, merely turned in his general direction. “I don’t think we should go on dates for a while. We should just stay friends for the time being.”

Despite his intuition seeing it coming, the rest of him was not prepared. His stomach lurched. That last bit of hope he had was snuffed out. Everything that made him  happy was crumbling and falling apart.

The silence rang in his ears as he tried to build up enough breath to respond. Maya gripped the table, as if she was terrified of being dragged away. A suppressed swallow could be heard from her every few seconds, along with a muffled sniffle here and there.

“Okay,” was all Ben could manage at first. He knew trying to change her mind would do nothing. She’d just lie to spare his feelings. And it would come back to this eventually either way. So, he had to accept it. “If that’s what you think is best, then sure.”

Maya finally made eye contact with him. He could see the tears building up in her eyes again.

Why does she look upset? This was her idea. Did she want me to try and argue with her? I’m not in the mood.

“We’ll still have fun at club meetings. And pottery!” Her voice sounded like it tried to get more cheerful but fell flat. “Sorry. I’m just not… We shouldn’t be dating. I shouldn’t be dating anyone.”

Ben didn’t register anything she said. He tried to smile and nod as she packed up. If he thought hard enough he could recall some small talk as she left. Nothing that mattered. Not that he was happy with her words after looking back on them. The pity, the disgust. All of her words carried a nauseating resonance.

Did it make him a bad person to be upset? As much as he liked her company, he wanted more than just friendship with her. Does blaming her for not wanting the same thing make me a villain? How likely was she to keep her promise of remaining friends, he wondered.

It would be a couple hours before Anthony got home and Ben could fully numb himself with bland company. He was left with his thoughts and the faint smell of Maya’s strawberry perfume lingering. How could everything be ruined so quickly? Their project sat on the table, staring at Ben and forcing him to realize the reality he was in. Was it really all because of that date? He thought they talked through that, he thought things were getting better.

It has to be me. Every time, it’s always because of me.

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