Unfamiliar Identity

It was a warm, cozy room with a bed and cushions scattered across the floor. I was not who I remember always being; I was in a different body, and my thoughts were different. This girl, around the age of 22–24, was hugging me and being very affectionate towards me. I felt a vague familiarity, yet I also felt as if I was faking being someone else, almost as if I were a clone and she was oblivious to it. I decided to put on a mask and go along with it, and she seemed happy as a result.

After quite some time and many outings that seemed very much like dates together, we returned to the oh-so-comfortable bedroom. I decided it didn't feel right to continue this lie, so I told her the truth. "I'm not unintelligible..."

Her face shifted, thinking I had just said some sort of sick joke. "That's not right; you're lying," is what I'm sure she said to me.

"I'm not unintelligible. I'm not lying; I've been trying to act like her this entire time to not upset you. I'm sorry." is what I managed to reply with. (She did not take this well.) She began to cry, thrash her arms about, scream, and yell at me as if I had murdered her significant other and she had just walked in on the scene. "I'm sorry, I was scared to not act like her; I was scared to show myself." I furthered my explanation, but it had no effect on her current state.

"Get out!" is what she shouted over her tears. "Leave, now!" she shouted at me yet again. Telling the truth had a consequence, but it was the right thing to do. I was not unintelligible. I was me.