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// Everything You Want 
// Story: Mrs. Brightside– Coming Out Of My Cage Extras 
// by Boopy Doopy 
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Mark was shaking as he read the article, feeling like he was about to have a panic attack. He had no idea what compelled him to click into it, but he very much wished he hadn’t. It would’ve been so much better to just stay ignorant.
“This cannot be happening to me,” he whispered quietly as he read, the tears welling up. He clenched his jaw for a second before yelling, “Please, God, this isn’t happening to me!”
He knew he should’ve stopped. It was making him upset to read, but he continued anyway. He didn’t know what compelled him to read on, other than the fact that so much of what it said was what he was. He hated that fact. He hated how everything was suddenly clicking into place all at once, and desperately wanted to find something in the article he read that would turn everything around. He wanted to see something that would tell him the feeling would go away, because he absolutely hated it, more than anything else in the world. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, didn’t want the article to be right in what it said about him.
He didn’t want to be transgender, like he was certain he was after reading the article.
“Please, no, this isn’t happening,” he said softly as he took a shaky breath, the tears dripping down his cheeks. His teeth chattered a bit as he held his arms out in front of him, as though they belonged to someone else. It really was unbelievable how much everything lined up, almost scarily so. He’d heard the word transgender before, but other than the occasional political question, it was never something he ever applied to himself. He never even considered it. He’d spent his entire teenage life being oblivious as to why he hated everything about himself so much, although reading that article made it painfully obvious. So obvious in fact that he would’ve felt stupid for not figuring it out on his own if not for how terrified he was. He absolutely didn’t want it to be him.
Mark had to lay down, closing his laptop as he was finally unable to keep going through the article. His tears got his pillow wet as he began to think about how unfair it all was. He shouldn’t have felt the way he did, and felt so, so ashamed that he did. He was ashamed of who he felt he should be. He could only imagine the ridicule he would get if he ever told anyone, something he already knew he would never do. He would make sure it was never ever known what he was. Even as bad as he felt, it would be a secret he would keep for his whole life, that he knew. It would have to be a secret he kept until the day he died.
He spent more than a little while sobbing because of the revelation, so long that it almost felt like the entire afternoon. He absolutely hated the feeling he had, the dysphoria he realized, and felt like he would cry for the next lifetime because of it. He just wanted to be himself, but he didn’t know what himself was. It certainly wasn’t whatever he was now though, he knew that much.
“I’m not a girl,” he told himself as he wrapped a blanket around himself, a thought that made the pain he felt cut deeper. “I’m a man. I need to act like one. Even if I hate it, that’s what I am. I have to tough it out.”
He wasn’t sure he could, but he would try to, even in spite of this revelation. He needed to make sure he never acknowledged what he was. As long as he didn’t acknowledge it, he would be fine. He just needed to put today completely out of his mind. Just pretend he didn’t learn what he just learned. As if that was something that was possible. Still, he would sure as hell try. What else was he supposed to do?
He grunted and closed his eyes, the tears still coming down in streams, practically soaking his bed and blanket. So much for so long, he wanted to know what was wrong with him, but now that he knew, he realized it would’ve been better to just stay ignorant. Had he, he would’ve been able to pretend that maybe the feeling would eventually go away. He could still do that now, but it would be much harder given the revelation, to the point where it would be nearly impossible. 
He had to wonder if the universe hated him. It was likely, given the circumstances. He wished he could say that he lost a coin flip, but no. He lost a coin flip that he had a 99.99% chance of winning. And because he lost, it just made life completely unbearable. 
Still, he would try. He would push through somehow. Do his best to ignore how he felt and keep on keeping on, somehow. He’d done so for nineteen years so far. He just had to push through for another sixty. The odds of it were low, but he would try at least.
Somehow, in his tears, Mark found sleep, being woken up a little while later by a knocking on his college dorm room door. As much as he wanted to tell them to go away so he could keep being sad, he resisted, taking a breath to calm down as he called them in.
It was a woman who entered, one he’d never seen before, but who looked strangely familiar somehow. She was about as tall as him, with deep brown eyes and blonde hair like his. Her hair was longer than his though, going all the way down to her butt in a braid, compared to his pathetic one inch cut, something his father forced him to get as a condition of staying with him a few months before kicking him out. He envied her, and then looked away in shame when he realized he felt jealous.
He couldn’t tell exactly, but he thought she might have looked a little bit misty eyed as she stopped in the middle of the room, staring dead at him with a sad look on her face. Just looking at her, he thought she would burst into tears at any second. She didn’t though, instead moving a little bit closer to him and staring right down at him with big, sad eyes.
“What do you want?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking, although not succeeding very much. He could tell she knew he was upset, and had to wonder if she came here for that reason, not that that made much sense.
Apparently it did, though, because a second later, she was bending down to hug him as he lay under his blanket, practically radiating love and affection through her being. And sadness, and pain and hurting, too. She gave off all of those things, and he could somehow feel her sending them his way through her hug. It made him shiver and start to become teary eyed again. As weird as it was, it felt like she knew exactly what was upsetting him and trying to express her sympathy and empathy.
He wouldn’t normally accept hugs from strangers, but there was something about this lady that felt familiar. It was almost as though he was hugging his mother or sister, or himself even. That feeling was made even more intense by the fact that he thought she looked a lot like him, except a woman. He could feel a deep longing to be her extending into the center of his being, one that made him unable to take his eyes off her once she finished hugging him. 
“You deserve nothing but good things in your life, dear,” she said sadly, giving a look that told him she knew exactly what was wrong and how he felt. “Absolutely nothing but the best is what you should get. You don’t deserve this.”
“I hate this feeling so much,” he automatically replied, unable to stop himself. “I wish this feeling would just go away, but it’s never going to go away, is it?” It felt like he was talking to himself when he spoke to her, and he looked up at her hopefully, desperately wanting a different answer than the one that would come. He knew what she would say though, and shivered again when she gave her answer, nothing more than a small, sad shake of her head.
“I don’t want to be like this,” he said, his voice cracking again. “I wish…” He didn’t know what he wished for. He felt so ashamed of even thinking that he wanted to be her. He just wanted the feeling to go away, more than anything else. If he could just get the feeling to go away, he’d be perfect. Which meant he would never be perfect, or even okay. He’d never be anything but completely broken and useless. The lady said as much with the shake of her head.
She bent down to hug him again, holding onto him as she spoke in his ear. “Nothing but good things is what you should be getting, honey,” she whispered, Mark able to hear her voice cracking now and the tears somehow making their way in. “You’re too nice a girl and too wonderful a woman to have to deal with all of this. It’s not right.”
He didn’t say that he wasn’t a woman, that if he was, all of his problems would be solved and he’d be living his best life. That he would never, ever be anything close to who he wanted to be. He was terrible, absolutely terrible, and he knew it. Still, he hung onto her words, even if they were untrue. They made him feel nice for a moment.
“I wish I could just be you,” he told her as she closed her eyes, still hugging tightly. “I just want to be as nice looking and beautiful as you. I would never ask for another thing if I could have what you have.”
“You will,” she assured him, sniffing a bit as she said it. “I promise you that you will, and it’s going to make you every bit as happy as you think it will and feel every bit as nice. You’re going to be a wonderful woman and an amazing mother, and it’s going to be everything you ever wanted. I promise.”
He smiled shyly through his wet eyes as she held his shoulders, looking right at her. He didn’t believe her, but it felt nice to think that for one second it could be real, despite the obvious improbability. Just the thought of it made his heart flutter with happiness. She was so right in that it would be everything he wanted.
“I know you don’t believe me,” she smiled sadly back at him, “and you’re not going to believe me for a long, long time, but you’ll get there. I promise you, you’ll get there. You’re going to be an absolutely beautiful woman and everyone’s going to see you for who you really are. You’re going to have wonderful children who you’ll love with everything in you and friends who love you and a body you like and a closet full of dresses-”
“Wh… what kind of dresses?” he couldn’t help but ask, feeling his hope rising. He didn’t know why, but it felt like she knew that this would all be given to him, as much as he didn’t believe it. As much as he knew she was wrong, he couldn’t help but hope she was right, and maybe believe her a tiny bit.
“Lovely, long flowery flowing ones,” she answered, smiling a bit wider and giggling a bit. “They’ll all look very pretty on you and you’ll look like you belong in them. And make up and nail polish you’ll love to wear, and soft skin and shiny hair and breasts- and the dysphoria, it’s going to absolutely melt away. You’ll never have to face it again. You’ll never have to be repulsed with yourself or flinch when you look in the mirror…”
The lady started to cry now as she closed her eyes, Mark himself crying again, desperately wanting what she said to be true. She knew exactly what he wanted, and even though he knew it would never happen, he badly wanted it to. He would give anything for her words to be true.
“It’s going to be amazing,” the lady finished, all she could say through her tears.
“Please tell me that it is,” he begged. “You don’t know how bad it hurts to be like this. I hate it so much.”
One more time, she reached down to hug him. “I know exactly how bad it is,” she said, “and I promise it’ll be amazing when it’s gone and you’re able to be yourself. You’re going to absolutely love every second of it.”
“You promise I will?” he asked, feeling like a five year old as he did. “You promise that I’ll be myself one day?” He hoped beyond hope that she was right, even as wrong as he knew she would be.
“I absolutely promise you,” she said, “you’ll love it every single second of every single day, and you’ll be nothing but absolutely happy being able to be yourself. You deserve it so much, Katrina. Trust me when I say you’ll get it.”
That was such a pretty name, Mark thought. Katrina. It felt like it suited him, and he wished it was his name. Not that it would ever be, but it was nice to imagine that maybe it would be one day.
“Okay,” he said happily, fully believing her for a single moment. “I’ll trust you.” Just looking into her eyes, he could tell she was telling the truth. It was easy to see in her eyes that being able to be herself made her happy, and he wanted to trust that he would be able to be, too, that the pain he had would go away like she said.
He placed his head into the lady’s neck, feeling the softness of her skin, still somehow thinking that he was hugging himself as he did. He didn’t know how long the moment lasted, but after a while, he felt himself yawning and getting tired, closing his eyes as he laid down. He stayed trapped in her warm embrace, feeling sleepier as he did. He would just rest his eyes for a second as he lay in bed, and…
He was woken up by a notification on his phone, the sun having already set it seemed. He tried to remember what he was dreaming about, but couldn’t quite recall what it was. There was a lady, he thought, and a hug, and… he couldn’t remember anything else. Except for the name Katrina. He remembered being called that in the dream and remembered thinking that it was a name that belonged to him. He let it roll around his head, liking the sound of it very much. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to be called that in real life.
Groggily, he turned over, and after he checked his phone, opened his laptop, seeing the page that he was reading before. Right. He was reading about how much his life sucked and why things would never be fair for him. He couldn’t remember the dream, but felt like it had something to do with that, with how he would be able to be who he wanted. Not that he ever would, he knew that in his heart of hearts. He would never be anything but a monster, never have anything except the feeling of hate for himself.
But the name Katrina… it was such a nice name. Not that he would ever do anything, but if in the extreme off chance that he was able to be himself, that would be the name he used. It was such a pretty name.