Note: Here's your daily dose of TSFMS!

Totally unrelated but I adopted two male rats because my old female is well, old, and needs to be left in peace, and I can't find names! So I'm asking for your help!
Of course, I can't name them Matt and Mello because when they die I'll be devastated...
One is light beige, almost white, with red eyes, the other is agouti (brown, the color of wild rats) with black eyes.
Yes, I'm using an A/N for that XD

Mello
It was weird to talk on Skype with Mail that day. He knew everything, and yet, he still hadn't told me if he was happy or not. At some point, I was really wanting to know because the treatment was so hard on me, and the change so scaring the shit out of me because I didn't really like what I was becoming that I needed to have the certitude it was worth it.
A part of me knew, but I was afraid to ask, I could sense it that he wasn't as happy as I thought, naively, that he would be.
He didn't act like he was not ok with it, actually, we talked about many things unrelated, like new games that he wanted to play with me, that were just released, or a movie that seemed to be nice, or the new album of our favourite band coming soon, and a hypothetical concert they'd give if they toured to promote that album and so on. Each time I brought up the topic, not really on purpose but because I had to be away from my laptop when I needed to throw up or fetched food since I was hungry most of the time, he worried that I didn't feel too bad, sincerely, but he would never say more.

At some point, I felt a bit irritated by the fact he seemed more joyful than usual. Well, not by the fact itself, but when I first thought that it was because he was happy that I was becoming a girl, I quickly realised that he was babbling to avoid many topics and only chatted about random stuff, giving me the impression that he had something making him happy that he didn't want to tell me because it had nothing to do with me, and worse, that I shouldn't know, probably, otherwise he'd have told me, like he always did.

The next day, it was all the same, and he even cut the communication at 9pm my time, so noon for him, because he had to go shopping with his mother, she had insisted he said. I was inwardly disappointed and angry, she was a considerate woman, and always waited later when I went to bed around 4pm Mail's time to ask him for help, I knew she liked me, he had told me, and the several times I've been to Mail's house, his mother had always treated me like a member of the family, sort of, and suddenly shopping wouldn't wait?
Ok, I was under heavy hormonal treatment, but I had the right to be irritated by this, it had nothing to do with a feminine tantrum.

I was a bit relieved when he asked me if I would be home around noon the next day because he'd be back on Skype later in the night to catch up with me. I didn't have time to ask him about such a long shopping spree that he told me that they were invited for dinner so he wouldn't be back directly after the grocery store. Biggest lie ever. Relief was short.
But he cut quickly, saying goodbye with a joy I'd gladly would have made him swallow back by the nose, so I didn't have time to argue.

No need to say how much I ate after that. I probably emptied the whole stash of chocolate in my parent's house. And then I felt sick and threw up all night, not only because of overeating, but anxiety did its part too.
I shouldn't have been gone so long, he had found a girlfriend while I was abroad, or it was just a one night stand but still... it hurt all the same.
I could almost understand, he hadn't promised me anything, and why would he? We weren't dating, we were just friends, damnit! He had needs and he had been frustrated long enough, he probably couldn't resist anymore.
But the promise was implied, to me. Hell was I stupid and naive, why would it be implied?
And since when did I expect anything from anyone?

I had become an emotional wreck because of Mail. It was just not me, and it had begun even before I took that treatment.
He had an effect on me that was insane, I lived by him, for what he thought and what he did. If he wasn't happy, I wasn't either, away from him I was miserable... Love huh? Nice thing indeed. It sent me back to that one of my ex boyfriends, the one that dumped me because I wasn't exactly like he wanted, and I had done my best to change, to fit his requirements, regretting afterwards that I didn't just kick his bastard ass instead of trying to change what I was.

All I was flew by the window the day I met Mail. I should have understood he'd be a threat to my sanity when his eyes melted me the first time.
Where was my self insurance? My pride? My temper, even. I was a pussy now (and the pun wasn't even intended). Crying over a relationship that didn't exist, over a decision I made that didn't fit me, over feelings that I couldn't control. Where were those feelings I had when Mail and me hung around together, when everything was still very simple, and that I felt good with him, when I didn't need to act so much because he just took me as I was, pretentious or not, and we had so much fun because we were ourselves.

Now... I didn't even know who I was anymore. I was someone stuck between male and female, my mind wasn't working wisely anymore, I would have been unable to walk down a street proudly, I'd be afraid of people's looks, I wasn't exactly Mail's friend, not his boyfriend either, and certainly not his girlfriend, I was the piece of nothing whose inexistant female hologram he could love, and I wasn't even sure my gender change would work and then?

I spent probably two hours rocking back and forth sat on my bed, unable to go one way or another in my mind.
The starting line was Mail loving me if I was a girl, the treatment, my decision, and the finishing line was doing what was best for me. In between, there was a gap I was falling into, once reaching the border on the finishing line's side, then stumbling over fear of rejection, will to be with him no matter the cost, be it financial or damage related, for my body, for my mental sanity.

I didn't want to become the monster I was on the way to be. Enough of the treatment, enough of Mail's influence on me.
Out of the blue, it just became obvious that I was mistreating my body, mind and soul with what I was doing. And as much as I loved Mail, and believe me I did, I hadn't felt so much myself in weeks than I was now, at that precise moment when I took the decision to stop the shit I was doing.
The idea that my trial at becoming a woman was a total fail, that I hadn't tried enough, that Mail would be mad at me was eating at my resolution, but being back to what I was, and having Mail accept me either as his best friend, either as his boyfriend, but exactly as I was and not as he would be able to love me, was stronger.
If I did complete the gender change process, he would love a lie anyway, and I wouldn't love myself, which is something I can't accept, nor can I live with.
And I tried to think that he probably would break up with me as a female, if we ended up together at all, if I wasn't happy with myself. You can't be loved if you don't love yourself, etc etc...
Fuck, I had been so stupid! I had promised myself after my ex boyfriend did that to me, that I would never ever let anyone influence my judgement on myself, that I would never change for anyone, and that I'd kicked out of my life anyone daring to tell me to change.
Mail hadn't exactly asked me, even if, with the proper perspective, he hadn't been very smart, to my opinion, to voice clearly that he fantasized on me as a girl only.
So it was out of the question to throw Mail out of my life, this was something similar to cut my dick, I just couldn't live without.

I stood up, suddenly so full or energy that I had to move, and put my decision into action.

The mistake had cost me a lot, I was thinking, as I threw the remaining pills in the garbage, afraid to go back against my decision to stop.
But the good side of it was that the side effects would stop quickly now. And I'd be back in the US as soon as I felt better and my voice became more normal. I laughed bitterly. My parents hadn't noticed anything. They wanted me to come back to Germany for the vacations, and yet they were never home.

I went to sleep, and I slept better than I had for days.

The next morning, I woke up around 10am. I showered, and as I was brushing my teeth, I inspected my face in the mirror.
There was no change in my face. Maybe my cheeks were a bit fuller, but that could as well be because I ate much more than usual. My adam apple was still there, but it had never been very apparent anyway. I rinsed my mouth, and turned around to inspect the rest of my body.
I was a bit fatter. It wasn't awful, but my abs were less visible, and my thighs rounder. Nothing to declare concerning my hairs. I almost had none before, so you can't lose what you didn't have to begin with. Mail would be delighted, I could hear him make fun of the fact that I already looked like a chick so plus a pair of boobs and minus my dick, it was all the same.
My voice was the main change actually, but if I did the effort, I could lower it slightly and it almost sounded like before.
To celebrate that, I began to jerk off in front of the mirror. Fuck, thank you side effects, my dick was unwilling to get up. Sighing loudly, I got dressed in my usual leather, feeling so good being myself (if you didn't look at my belly, because I was way more sexy in that outfit when my abs showed up, instead of that birth of a pneumatic, and if you tried not to listen to the leather creaking in protest around my thighs), inwardly telling Mail to fuck off if he didn't love me as I am because I was fucking awesome.
Hell, I'd frenchkiss myself if I could right now, as I did a once over myself in the mirror before exiting my room.

I took a walk downtown since I had an hour to kill before Mail would be on Skype, and I needed to think about what I would tell him. I couldn't literally tell him to fuck off, even if that was the main idea. Hey Mail, I love you to pieces but you can die if you don't accept me as I am. Perfect.
I was who I was, and I wanted my one and only to love me for that, not for being the copycat of his wet dreams.
But unable to wait, I texted him (oestrogens, I tell you). So he'd have time to think about it before coming on Skype. Or I'd get a reply immediately and I would know what he thought about it before I self consumed of anxiety.
Hi Mail. I don't believe I can be a chick someday, I'm stopping the treatment, can't stand what I'm becoming... Sorry, I had to make a choice for my own sanity, hope you can understand. It doesn't change anything to the fact that I love you, but you'll have to accept me as a guy or nothing. See you on Skype in a moment.
It's only once it was sent that I thought that he may not connect to Skype, not accept what I did, and brush me off forever.
I tried to call him, anxiety getting the best of me, but I had his answering machine immediately. No battery left, or to the least, I hoped so...

At noon exactly, I was already home and connected on Skype for twenty minutes.
Half an hour later, I was still driving myself crazy with negative ideas, as Mail was still not connected.
I decided to call him. Reaching out for my cell on my bedside table, I saw a taxi park along the pavement, but my eyes drifted to the small screen of my cell, uncaring for the car.
It rang this time, on the other side of the line, but although I could hear the sound of the rings in my cell, I could also hear a Mario theme ringing in rhythm coming from the yard in front of my parents' house. That just couldn't be...

Matt
It was so hard to keep my secret! I wanted to surprise Mihael, and not give him time to find excuses or anything, so I didn't tell him about my trip to Berlin. But damn, was I happy!
I knew it probably sounded weird to him, and I was doing my best to avoid any subject related to us, afraid to give myself away. I hope he didn't take it bad, he sounded quite irritated at some point but the next day it would be forgotten.
I only made sure he would be home around the time when I would arrive, adding a good hour after my flight would have landed at Berlin's airport to fetch my bag and cross customs and take a cab, that would be bad if he was away when I was under his front porch, if he had one, it was just for the image, ok?
I was a bit scared to be alone in a country which language was not English, but I guess some people there would speak English, and I had a little book I had bought at the airport before boarding with the basics of German. Although I was pretty sure I would be unable to pronounce anything correctly except the few words I knew from Mihael.

Once out of the airport with my bag in hand, I lit up my cell to text my parents. I had taken a special credit for this trip so I could contact them just in case, you never know what can happen, and my mother wouldn't let her little fox alone with no contact means in a foreign country...
As soon as it was on, it beeped to announce I had received a text message. Probably my mum testing the service.
But no, it was Mihael.
He had sent this message one hour ago but I had my phone off in the plane. Fuck, I didn't expect such a message...
He confirmed he would be home, which was a relief, but he was also telling me that I could basically forget him if I didn't accept him as a guy, because he didn't want to be a woman.
I was even more relieved actually. I wouldn't have to convince him to stop, although it was a bit hurtful for my pride that he didn't care anymore for what I thought.
Ok, I was being egoistical, this time. But my ego deflated quite much.
But as I reread the message over and over again, a smile crept on my face.
It had been weeks that, even before he came here, Mihael had changed, leaving the badass blond behind, to someone that I didn't dislike, but that was too far from what had made me fall for him. It was nice to see some emotion in him, but not to the point where he acted according to others the way he did, it was just not him.
Mihael, the real one, had sent this message, and I loved reading that. I had missed the cocky, overly self assured, temperamental most macho gay I knew and wanted him back.

The taxi parked, and I briefly saw Mihael in front of a window at the first floor but he was turning his back to me and walking away.
I was a few steps away from his door when my cellphone rang. I checked the ID of the caller, and it was Mihael. But the call ended quickly and I didn't have time to reply. I instinctively looked up and saw him look at me by the open window, then disappear.
I heard steps running inside of the house, and the door opened violently.