Anonymous Joke

Access Granted

I don't know who I am.

My name is Aaron James. I'm 24.

That's it, that's all I've got.

Sometimes it doesn't feel wrong. Sometimes I'm perfectly happy being me, going to work, talking with people, going home, watching Netflix. Sleeping an average amount. It's normal and that's fine. I'm cool with it.

But sometimes it hits me like a monsoon wave, too huge and fast to be anything but terrifying, and I huddle within my own chest screaming and tearing at my ribs. On those days, even the two most basic facts I know feel like lies.

I'm not sure how to explain it. Some have tried to tell me it's a kind of dysphoria, others look to medication as the answer, but somehow I know it's more than that. Somehow, this is bigger than me, bigger than my whole little normal life.

But let me back up.

The day was going like they always did. I woke up, showered, caffeinated and went to work. My boss was hip deep in Monday paperwork and my two coworkers cared less about the store than either smoking cigarettes out back and not caring if I smelled them when they got back (even though they know I'm trying to quit) or gossiping about what the heck ever. Tiresome, but normal.

Then he came into the store.

There wasn't anything immediately wrong about him. He was tall, broad-shouldered with hair that dusted them in brown, a hasty beanie crammed down over all of it like he hadn't showered. I know the feeling.

I glanced at him, jeans and some kind of t-shirt, as he tromped straight to the oral health section. Then I went back to ignoring the faint smell of tobacco while I straightened our cluttered counter.

But then he came up to check out.

"Will that be a-- Ah," I said lamely, looking up at his face and simultaneously realizing what a mistake that was.

His eyes were. I don't even know. What sprung to mind was something like, 'sunflower galaxies,' which aside from being ridiculously poetic was kind of impossible.

Then he smiled.

My whole body went hot and cold, and I had to suppress a shudder.

Right then, I was screwed.

I rang him up in a daze and he left. The rest of anything we said followed my script and I don't remember a word.

But that was the beginning of my downfall. I know that sure as I know my name.