I've Been Living Inside My Ex-Boyfriend's Body for Five Years

I’ve been living inside my ex-boyfriend Joey’s body for about five years now. I’ve never told anyone because they probably wouldn’t believe me, and to be honest, life isn’t too bad nowadays. His family is lovely, he was and still is popular, so being a cute privileged guy isn’t the worst. I had to get used to having a dick, but it’s not like I wasn’t that familiar with his anyway.

There’s no denying I miss a lot of my old life as Gemma Martin before we switched bodies. My old family and friends - sometimes I wish I could tell them the truth, but any positive outcome from that is unrealistic, so I decided to get it off my chest here. The internet - where people will either believe it or not, but I don’t need to care.

Back when I was Gemma and Joey was Joey, Joey asked me out in high school when we were both sixteen. He wrote it almost illegibly on a rubber and threw it at me in class, and I fell for that dork. We hit it off and became an item, and for a while it was the typical teen relationship. Soon we introduced each other to our families.

Joey’s family was extremely welcoming to me, and it was incredibly sweet how well Joey cared for his dying grandmother. She had lung problems, was immobile from arthritis and almost blind (and more), and it broke my heart to see such a lovely lady suffering like that. When Joey invited me over, we would read to her and tell her about our day. She didn’t talk much, but you could tell she was listening as she smiled at all the jokes.

Her list of health issues expanded over time but a stage 3 breast cancer diagnosis was the final straw. I cried a lot for them, as at that point she felt as much my grandmother as his. She looked so peaceful usually, but in her final week I visited her in hospital, and she would look at me with this helpless, terrified expression. I felt horrible not being able to do anything for her as she lay dying, her eyes darting around in their sockets as if looking for an escape from her upcoming demise.

Understandably, Joey didn’t cope well during his grandmother’s final weeks. He didn’t call me much and took ages to reply when I texted, so I gave him some space to deal with all of it. Joey didn’t cry at her funeral – perhaps he had cried enough at the past. Both our families were there, and I felt torn watching him stare into the distance in silence throughout the whole thing.

The day after the funeral, he called me for the first time in weeks.

‘Hey babe, how are you doing?’

‘I’m  great ! Thank you!’ I thought his voice sounded different, but probably because I hadn't heard him so excited in a long time. I was surprised, but happy that he wasn’t letting the grief weigh him down for too long.

‘Nice!’ I replied, ‘So what’s up?’

‘I’ve got something to show you. Come on over Gemma,’ he said. He sounded full of energy but I thought I heard his voice crack.

He greeted me with the widest smile I’ve ever seen on his face, and gestured me over to his room. Then, he sat on the floor in the middle of the room cross-legged, stirring a cup of tea.

‘Babe… what are you doing?’ I asked.

‘Now let me ask you a question. Answer honestly. Have you ever wanted to live a day in my life?’

‘Huh?’

‘Because I’d love to see what a day in your life is like.’

‘Well you know me pretty well already. My life isn’t that interesting. Anyway, what is this we’re doing?’

‘Listen.’ He put a finger in the air. ‘I happened to be browsing the world wide web,’ He spoke slowly. ‘I found a fun magic trick we could try. Would you mind giving me a drop of your blood, please? Just a little prick?’

There was a very long pause.

‘My blood. For a magic trick. Are you serious?’

He grinned and raised his eyebrows. I was convinced the grief had driven him bat shit crazy, and I didn’t want to make things worse.

‘Well what is this magic trick supposed to do?’

‘You won’t believe me if I tell you. You’ll think it’s witchcraft.’

‘Dude I need to know what it is before I give you my blood. You a vampire or something?’

He finally agreed.

‘Keep this a secret. I want to try making us switch bodies. You’ll wake up inside my body, and I’ll wake up inside yours. It’ll be real fun, I promise.’

He giggled weirdly, then coughed and composed himself. I decided to play along with his absurd game without questioning him too much, but at the time I was worried for him. I thought if this mental state of his kept on going, I’d have to tell someone about it eventually.

‘What do I do with my blood?’ I asked. He held out his hand.

‘Give it to me.’

‘…Alright.’ I was wearing a badge from a charity I’d donated to, and I pricked my finger with it. I squeezed out a small drop of blood and put it in his palm. He squeezed his hand shut into a fist and leaned closer to me, looking me in the eyes.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered. ‘It must be wonderful to be a girl like you.’

‘Thanks babe,’ I said. ‘I love you too.’ He stared at me for what seemed like forever. Not that he hadn’t stared at me before, but I felt very weird that day, especially with the events preceded.

‘Okay, uh, mom said I need to help her pick up Kylie from preschool today, so I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you Joey, get some rest okay?’

He nodded and kept staring as I walked out the door.

The next day, I woke up in Joey’s room. I thought I’d fallen asleep with him in his room, but when I sat up, my body felt different. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed my suspicion, which I thought was too crazy to be true. I had woken up in Joey’s body, just like he said I would.

Panicking, I unlocked his phone with my new thumb and dialled my own cell number. Nobody picked up. I decided to live as Joey for a while until I could contact him, who I was sure had taken over my body. I knew enough about him to pass, albeit with a few odd stares when I said out of character stuff, but it was manageable. When I didn’t see me at high school the next day, I got worried fast.

A few days later, I, Gemma Martin, was reported missing on the local News, and five years later authorities still don’t know where my body went. It hurted to see my family devastated. I just hope Joey took care of my body, and it doesn’t end up dismembered in garbage bags, or worse, in a strip club.

I have no idea how the switch happened, and I can’t guarantee it’ll never happen again. After doubting my own sanity for five years, I don’t think I’ll ever be sure it even happened in the first place.

But time has passed and after the initial shock I’ve been doing alright... I guess. Learning to respond to a new name isn’t that hard. Learning to be as good at football as Joey was is pretty hard, but I’m getting better. Acting distraught about your lover’s disappearance when you don’t know where your own body went is… more strange than distressing. Wouldn’t be surprised if this was all one weird dream and I wake up in my own body again, only to have another identity crisis.