Jason's POV:
Anne's behavior was concerning me-it seemed that her little sister having twins was really throwing her in for a loop. Anne hadn't really talked about her little sister before-I knew she had one, and that her name was Nina, but I never imagined that she would end up being my student at school. I felt like an idiot for not realizing that Nina was pregnant. I mean, I noticed that she wasn't looking as thin as she had before, but still, she didn't look as if she was pregnant. I busied me in the kitchen, making lunch for Anne and myself. I put some chicken in the oven, some vegetables on the stove, and poured two glasses of water. An hour later, everything was ready, but there was no sign of Anne.
"Anne?" I called, standing at the bottom of the stairs. There was no response, so I decided to go up.
"Anne, are you awake?" I asked, entering our bedroom. Anne was laying on her stomach, fast asleep. I sat down next to her on the bed, and gently shook her shoulder.
"Anne, wake up." I whispered.
"Jason?" Anne groaned, opening her eyes. She blinked a few times, and then sat up.
"Hey there, sleepy head." I said.
"What time is it?" Anne asked.
"It's two." I answered.
"Oh, okay." Anne said, getting up. I went downstairs while Anne popped into the bathroom to splash water on her face. Anne came down, and took a seat at the kitchen table. I put our lunches down, and then sat across from her.
"Anne, please talk to me. I know something is upsetting you." I whispered.
"I'm fine, Jason. I was just tired." Anne replied.
"If you're sure." I said, beginning to eat. Anne and I ate in silence, and afterwards, she stood and grabbed our plates.
"I'm going to head over to the hospital, if you want to come?" Anne inquired.
"I think I'll stay here, if that's okay with you." I answered.
"Sure." Anne replied, coming over and giving me a kiss.
"I love you, Anne." I whispered, wrapping my arms around her waist.
"I love you too, Jason." Anne replied, leaning her forehead against mine. I looked at this beautiful woman who, incredibly enough, had chosen me, and I was so happy that she was in love with me. Anne gave me one last kiss, and then detached herself, and left the house. I went upstairs, grabbing the clean laundry basket as I went, and taking it to our bedroom. I dumped the clean clothes on the bed, and then put the basket in the hallway. I started to fold Anne's clothing and put it away, but when I reached my hand in the drawer, it bumped into something hard. I pulled it out, and saw a cloth covered journal. Forgetting that I was supposed to be folding, I sat down and opened the book. The first entry was dated four years ago, and clearly in Anne's messy script. 'I can't handle this anymore. I want so badly to be a male, but I can't see any way of doing it. I pretend that I hate people who flaunt that they are gay or transgender, but in reality, I'm jealous of them and that they are brave enough to be free, brave enough to live life without hiding behind a lie, like I do. Every single day of my life is a lie. Every breath I take is a lie. I want to be a Mom and have babies, but I also want to be a male. I don't believe that God makes mistakes when determining our gender, but then, why do I feel this way? Why don't I feel normal? Why can't I be normal? I'm terrified. Terrified that I'm messed up, that I'm this way because I did something wrong. I want the ability to be free so much that I can't even think sometimes. I think about how it'll be if I was a male, and I just can't….I get so sad at the thought that I'm still a woman, and most likely, always will be. Just because I'm scared.'
After reading the first page of Anne's journal entry, the book fell from my fingers in shock. Anne wanted to be a man? My beautiful, wonderful, Anne wanted to be a guy? I shook my head, barely able to comprehend that Anne wanted to change herself like that. But, in a way, it made sense. She rarely dressed the part of a girl-choosing pants and tight shirts that instead of exposing her chest, flattened it out. I always figured it was because she was a photographer, and didn't want to emphasize that she is a woman. I bent over and picked up her book, intent on putting it back. But, a part of me was curious. Why didn't Anne go through with it? Was it because of us? I flipped open to the next page, and continued to read.
'I started to tell my Grandma today. But then I couldn't. The words just froze in my throat. I thought about how she'd look at me if I did tell her-with disappointment and disapproval. I don't know if she'd understand. Hell, I don't know if I understand. Sometimes I feel like dressing like a guy, and sometimes I feel like dressing like a girl. I want to wear skirts and revealing tops, but other times I want to wear clothes that guys wear. I don't understand what's wrong with me.' I paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. It hurt that Anne thought that something was wrong with her, just because she wanted to dress like a guy. I opened the book again, this time, skipping to the very last entry, which was dated for December of that year.
'This is going to be my last entry, ever. I've resolved that I can no longer live this way. I'm scared all the time, worried, and absolutely terrified. I feel as if there is a giant weight on my chest, and I can't be free for even a second to draw breath. I can't handle it anymore. I know I promised I'd be strong for Nina, but I can't do it. I can't pretend anymore. This life is all a lie, and even though I have the job I've always wanted, it's not important anymore. I thought moving to England would change things, that I would have the chance to be free, but I'm still too afraid. I don't know what will happen if I truly allow myself to be me. But I've decided-I can't go on anymore.'
Anne's journal ended there, and I hastily stood up, and put it back in the drawer, slamming it shut. I couldn't believe that Anne had felt that way, and never mentioned it. I still didn't understand why Anne never told me that she wanted to transition.