Trapped

20th April 2024

Dear Diary,

Jake messaged me again today. "Coffee round two?" he asked. And I replied, "Sure," with a smiley face. But inside, I'm unraveling. Jake's dimples used to make my heart flutter, but now they're just pixels on a screen. I miss Gracie's (my old girlfriend) laughter, her messy hair, and the way she'd hug me tightly. Jake's thumbs-up emoji feels like a distant echo.

Lunchtime gossip? Forget it. Becky and Kevin? Jessica and Mark? It's all a blur. I nibbled on my salad (because girls nibble, right?), but the lettuce tasted like cardboard. I wondered if Emma was out there, navigating my life. Does she know about me and Jake? Does she miss her old sneakers? Or has she embraced my life, leaving hers behind?

After school, Max asked if we could build another blanket fort. "Spaceship to Planet Glitter?" he asked, eyes wide. But my heart wasn't in it. I sat there, cardboard walls closing in, and thought about Emma in my life. Does she miss this? Miss Max? Or has she accepted this new reality, too?

And then there's the bathroom. The mirrors reflect a girl I barely recognize. Emma's face, Emma's eyes. But behind those eyes, there's a boy who yearns for home. A boy who misses his own skin, his own voice, his own life. I've become a ghost in Emma's world, haunting her memories, leaving traces of Alex behind.

So, Diary, here's the truth: I'm scared. Scared that I'll forget what it's like to be Alex. Scared that this body swap is irreversible, and I'll never feel the weight of my old sneakers again. Scared that Jake's dimples will fade into distant pixels, and Max will grow up without his actual big sister.

But maybe—just maybe—there's a lesson here. A lesson about empathy, about walking in someone else's glittery shoes. Maybe I needed to see life from this angle, to understand the kaleidoscope of emotions that swirl within Emma. And maybe Emma needed a taste of boyhood—an adventure beyond mascara and cryptic texts.

Until tomorrow,

Emma