I can tell it's coming before it's here.
My chest aches and my stomach twists, my feet heavy as I head to the bathroom. I already know.
I don't even bother checking, I just grab a pad and stare at the ceiling.
A boy on his period. Who am I kidding? I'll never be a real boy.
Once I fix myself, I lay on my bed.
I can't help but wonder, what if it all had a reset button? I would press it, hopefully become a boy. But then things get paradoxical, and that's no fun.
I can't laugh, I can't sneeze, I can't cough. All of those remind me of what I am.
I curl up in the fetal position, and hope for sleep.
