I Was Saved by a Cat When I Was A Trans Homeless Kid

I could see myself. I could see myself shivering in a blanket under a railway bridge. I could see myself crying. I could feel it, too. Nothing was more painful than the absence of love I felt at that moment. It felt so vast it was unimaginable. I was so numb that if I died there and then, I don’t think I would have known I was dead. It was mid-January, and you could feel the desire for death that the cold had. The cold was out for blood. I pulled the cover up to my face a little. It was flimsy. I carried A dirty duvet with me religiously, like a priest with a bible. The duvet offered me hope, although, at the time, it felt pointless. The wind blew hard, and there were flecks of snow in the air. People die in those temperatures. I wore several layers, but it still wasn’t enough. Trains would roll by, and little streams of dust released by the rattle of the carriages would fall onto us. It was a miserable, desperate existence. <a href="https://medium.com/the-identity-current/i-was-saved-by-a-cat-when-i-was-a-trans-homeless-kid-039a301bf4d0">Learn More</a>