Ok. The last couple of days have been hellish for the both of us. My period has been due and my hormones have been going crazy, so I have been a snippy little madam. That and Max, while he's on progesterone to prevent his own periods, he has been on what seems to be a hormone dip. I didn't realise and nor did he, I think, until I mentioned babies. I joked that one of my friends should father our children, and he went quiet and curled in on himself. I thought that this was because of some issues we'd had in the past, rather than anything he's going through. I thought I had done something wrong. I can be a little self-centred.

It's these things that I think I don't consider while I watch him changing. I see his confidence blossoming and blooming. I see his posture changing, and I see his smile growing and growing. And it's because of all this that I don't always think about the sacrifices he's having to make in order to become the man he wants to. He sees himself as having to give up carrying children. I know it has happened in the past where other transmen have carried children, but I think he feels it's not for him. It'd be too weird. No amount of my reassuring that I will carry our children (should we get that far) will quieten this sore wound, so I'm letting him breathe it out on his own. Or at least I'm trying to. I'm unfortunately the sort of person that, if you tell them not to talk about something, I will want to talk to them about it. It's needling at me. And with the period hanging about, the temptation to push it got the better of me. I know he really needs his space to feel, and I am trying to hard to give him what he needs. But sometimes my own needs push his out of my brain and so I pushed it.

I pushed him to see whether his quietness was my own fault. If I'd brought the question of children too soon, even though it was a flippant remark. I feel guilty for the tiniest things, and it gets worse when I am hormonal. The little voice would not stop pestering me. It was beginning to hurt, so I eventually asked why it was he didn't want to talk, and whether or not it was my fault. Then the stream of tears burst forth from his eyes and he just gently shook his head. This beautiful man was breaking, crumbling in front of me. My heart burst. Then the real guilt kicked in. After a bad attempt at comforting, we just lay beside one another in silence, with my mind reeling. I was an asshole. How could I not think that this would hurt him? I knew that in the past he'd planned to carry children with partners before me. How could I not think that this was something that he'd wanted to do, rather than just taken on the responsibility? How?

I'm currently feeling decidedly foolish and angry with myself. I just wish that I could make it all better, but I can't. So I am going to give him a break. I'm spending my whole evening out of his hair. I think I have to stay away, otherwise I'll want to pester him, and pestering him will just make things ten times worse. I feel awful. Just awful. I know that we'll come across more storms than this one (and we've weathered worse in the past) but this one is because of me. While it is not all my fault, the fact that he was faced with thinking about it is.