Can the leopard change his spots?

I dont remember my original name.

There is something tragic in that loss, the lack of an original identity.

I’m not sure if I was male, or female.

Or maybe something else altogether.

Because all I am is a chameleon.

Put me in a sausage-fest of guys, and I will act like a guy.

Put me in a hen-party filled with girls, and I will act like a girl.

And I have no idea which is my “true” self, or if either is.

I drift through life, blending into my surroundings, becoming all but invisible.

Forgotten.

And alone.

There are times I cry out to the heavens in protest of this, but the heavens give no response.

Sometimes, I wonder if I am even really human.

Maybe I was found by a human couple, and changed to look like them, just like I can change my behaviour now.

Maybe I’m some kind of probe, a way to examine human society without them knowing.

Or maybe I’m just a freak.

Either way, I dont really understand the people around me.

The gender thing is especially confusing. The way that men and women act, the way they dont seem to think like the other sex at all. Makes me wonder how couples could connect.

That’s one part of society I will never know first-hand, though.

Because even though I mostly blend in, something about me stands out to anyone who looks closely enough.

Guys would be uncomfortable around me, girls would make it clear I would never be anything but a friend.

And I have no idea why.

Or if it will ever change.

I guess I will just have to find out the old fashioned way, by living.

As best as I can.

And hold on to whatever hope I can.

Because for all I know, this “leopard” will be able to change his spots ....

Someday ...

End