tr*mp just called trans people a burden on twitter……… like it was nothing……….. like it was just a normal thing to say in front of millions of people…… …. ……,, don’t tell me again he doesn’t use every opportunity to strip away rights from those who need it the most
“Ah… they did? What did they say?” Hongseok passes my phone to me as I read the messages I haven’t opened for the last few hours. Seeing them still hurt because it still feels insincere, as if I was alone in this friendship.
“Are you going to reply?” Hongseok asked while taking one of my hand in his from under the blanket. It was barely even 6am and I wasn’t down for the drama just yet.
“Not yet, let’s have cake.” I say smiling, and dragging him with me over to the kitchen still with my phone in one hand.
I took the cake out from the fridge and set it on the table between Hongseok and I. He placed a candle in the centre and lit it, turning the light off before he took his seat. The room was dark and the winter sun hasn’t yet risen and so all that was left to light up the room was the moonlight seeping through the gaps of the blinds and the orange candlelight. A few seconds after, the room was filled with his voice - he sang happy birthday and I couldn’t help but wear a smile on my face. His voice was pretty and I honestly couldn’t thank him enough for doing all this for me. When the short song came to an end we both clapped, I clapped to applaud his singing and he clapped to applaud me fo coming to life twenty-one years ago.
“Make a wish Y/N.”
“Wishes don’t come true Hongseok.”
“I’ll make sure this one does, as long as it’s realistic and I can afford it.” He laughed as I smiled.
“There’s nothing I want.”
“But there is, I can tell.”
“I just want a shoulder to lean on and not be a burden to people.”
“Done!” I laughed at his enthusiasm.
“I’ll always be your shoulder to lean on, and you’re never going to be a burden to me.”
“It makes me feel as though I’m replacing them because that’s exactly what they said to me five years ago.”
“I’m not asking to take their place silly, but just know that I’m always going to be here for you.” He grabbed my hand again from across the table and rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. I wanted to cry in this moment because I was so grateful of him and his words.
“I don’t deserve someone like you in my life.”
“Idiot, I told you this already. You deserve more and better but you’re stuck with me now.”
“I like the sound of that though.” We both laughed and enjoyed one another’s company. Until my phone dinged, showing a notification from the group chat. I un-muted the conversation but didn’t think they’d be up to say anything.
• disabled people deserve to express themselves
• disabled people shouldn’t have to fight/be forced to become “normal.”
• disabled people shouldn’t have to feel like a burden
• disabled people should be allowed to love themselves, without being told something is wrong.
• disabled people should be able to be proud of their accomplishments
• disabled people shouldn’t feel forced to hold themselves to able-bodied standards
I’m no one’s priority. People find their phones more interesting than me. When I talk to them, they’re either scrolling through their mobiles, or texting, and if someone else comes along, they just turn away from me, and start talking to them instead. Am I really that boring and annoying?