Untitled 04

Hi
Hello
How are you feeling today?
Not much. What about you?
I’m here.
Yes, you are.
Yep. I am.
Why are you here?
Do I need a reason?
(How does one fill the silence that follows?)

***

   I remember that afternoon. That strange afternoon when you told me to shut up, to not be a bitch, and I was too overwhelmed by my own feelings to see that you were crying too. To be fair, you were doing the dishes, I could only see your back every time I opened my eyes, through the blurry haze of painful tears. The sweat got into my eyes, and you know how it hurts when you just finish a coat of sunscreen and sweat get into your eyes, right? Double-pain, mourn on the necrotic-narcotic, you knew my friend had died just last night. I know you know that ‘cause he was your friend too. You got his cool Merzbow collection, and said it’s ours, you said I could take the first run 1996 Pulse Demon used CD with me after we listened to it together. You know how to cheer me up, how to make me smile through my pain, and I feel like I lost the ability to do the same for you once I first fell into the well. Once I let myself fall into the well. You know that also, don’t you? That I fell into the well. Now you know me better than myself. Whatever happened to the egotistic whore who set that White X6 on fire? How come you matured —, you’re doing your chores, — and I regressed to this teenage-ish state I had never lived before — sat at the table, weeping. Tell me, — I know you can hear my thoughts, — why did I let myself lay my head on your lap? Tell me, why did I let myself keep warm under your wings?

   I am thou, thou art a bitch.

   You should learn to take care of yourself for once. Yes, I remember, that’s what you said to me, but I didn’t laugh it off because neither did you, and you continued — I can still hear it in loop inside my head. You disgust me sometimes. You try so hard to be what you are not, that I can’t help but barf on all the memories we’ve made together, and you hear me out; vomit is the best soap to clean off of me a high regard. And I can still feel the pressure of your pointing finger lifting my face with disgust. I can still feel the spit making a trail from the eye I couldn’t open, across my chin and all the way down to my dinosaur pajama pants, like a big sloppy tear straight down my lap. You were crying too, I remember very well. Tears like those from the day that. When we both knew at first. I didn’t cry when I was holding you until you fell asleep. I cried when I heard you snore, and I cried so much that after a few hours I got so thirsty and so powerless that I tried licking the ghosts of my dried tears off the floor I fell to and couldn’t get up from, but I got up, yes I did, because I could hear you moaning in grief just downstairs. I got up and brought you a glass of water, but you couldn’t hold it in your stomach so I ran to grab something to wipe the foam off the floor. You were crying that night the tears you cried after you realized what you had just done. And I remember, yes, I remember very well the look of regret on your face as the spit made it’s way down to my dinosaur pajama pants. You struggled to say an I am sorry that would not come off. You tried more than once, and on the third time the anger came back, and you could not stop laughing, and your eyes were closed shut so tight that the tears stopped flowing. I don’t remember me, though, in that scenario. You continued: you’re a swindler, you know that, right? It doesn’t matter you “just want to make people have a good time”, you’re a dirty liar, a fake and a fraud. I hate you so much. I hate your life, I hate your problems, I hate your need a cause; I hate when you smile, I hate when you frown, I can’t take you anymore, doesn’t matter how much I respect you. You’re not worth of my respect. You’re not worth of anyone’s respect. Yeah, you wanna know the truth? You wanna know the answer you’re itching to hear? I’m gonna tell you. You should not be living right now. It should’ve worked the first time, because you don’t deserve life if this is what you do with it. Try again, kill yourself. And after that, I looked into your eyes but they were not there and I knew that wasn’t you, I knew very well you were only pretending to be yourself. When you took the kitchen knife and cut my wrist, when you said, there, just keep going from where I started, you can’t go wrong, I’m watching, come on, do it. I know you want to do it. But, when you said that I knew for a fact you did not know me thoroughly. You knew wrong; I did not want to kill myself.

***

   I remember you found me sleeping in your bed upstairs when I wasn’t sleeping. I heard the door opening, I did, I heard the nervous click-clack of the first aid box that you opened and closed — opened and closed — not knowing what to do. I wanted to leave a red surprise for you to find in the morning, you know, just like the story you told me that time about your first period, remember? You said it was called “Reddishness”, and I suggested a title change to “Red Surprise”, and you were like, sure, my English is not that good anyways. I did not hear the door closing, neither remember when the click-clack stopped. I fell asleep, dreaming of you embracing me, keeping me warm in this iglu of an apartment. I woke up and you were not there. Your pillow was in perfect shape. The pillow I left for you as a booby trap. You had slept on the couch that night. Your couch. Or maybe not slept at all because I touched the cushion and it wasn’t humid with your trademarked drool. You were out of the apartment, somewhere I had no idea of. You should’ve been there because I had a boo-boo and was too afraid to clean it under warm water, to stitch it myself. I was afraid without you. I was worse than a calf, my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering, my body wouldn’t stop shivering. I was having a panic attack and you weren’t there like you said you would in that morning when. I remember it was morning, yes, a morning just like this one, only difference being you were there for me, then, when you said you would always be there for me. I pissed myself, covered in my own saliva, and you weren’t there for me, like you said you would always in that morning when. When you said you would be always. I’m not the only swindler, you know,  you were my brightest pupil; beautiful teacher’s pet. You’re as bad as I and you know it very well, unlike when you said you knew me when you didn’t. You know your guilt, you know your flaws, you know you’re always pretending.

   I am afraid to die today I am afraid of death today please don’t die.

***

   Life is not so complicated, why do you insist in telling me the opposite? Was written on the poetry wall at your favorite bar. On the doodle wall, you told me one night, to draw the Life•Is•Trivial cover and I took your shirt as a reference, trying to ignore your rigid nipples — from seeing me looking at your breasts — making me horny. I look at the doodle wall next and the drawing is still there, and you are in your seat of always, the one you cut an “X” with the new switchblade you had bought at the time, to mark the spot. In that night Jonas was so stupid drunk that he told the funniest joke: X’s where the booty is at. You laughed so hard — also stupid drunk — that you almost threw up beer all over the table, but we could still see the little stream coming out your nose, and it was so funny. You were not happy when you saw me, but I was happy for seeing you alive and well. We didn’t say a word, you were going through the medicinal six-pack. The owner came to tell us about the open mic night. We’re having a famous guest tomorrow night, it’ll be lots of fun. What about bringing one of your spoken words ‘nastasia? Anything to one of the only people that can pronounce my name right. There, I did it again, I lied just to see the smile that came after, because I would not show up tomorrow night. You noticed, and I noticed you noticed. I give him my hand — knowing that you’re better off alone — and ask to be taken to the exit, and he does take me and waves a goodbye outside. I won’t drink tonight, I whispered, and went home...

   ...Only to not see you for the rest of the month.

***

   I came to say I’m sorry.
   Sorry for what?
   Come on, don’t be a bitch.
   (We both laughed)
   Come in.
   I can’t say no to such a warm welcome.

***

   Whatever happened to us?
   What hasn’t happened? We’ve been through so much.
   Yeah, you giggle, it’s true.
   Did you miss me, Johnny?
   You know I did, you silly goose. How can I live without you?
   Do you really want an answer?
   No.
   And I found again the meaning of life in mama’s embrace.
   I ain’t no mama.
   But isn’t this hug the meaning of life? (oh, yeah, we were hugging.)

   You’re tall. Like a building.
   And you’re taller than the average giant.
   I want to say something.
   Say it.
   I love you.
   I love you too.
   When my mind is overwhelmed, when my body won’t move, you’ve been a shield over me. You know that, right?
   I do.
   I want to be a shield over you too.
   I know you do. I know you are a shield over me.
   A shield shouldn’t tell you to kill yourself.
   A shield can be anything but flawless. You can’t block every arrow.
   Yeah... We are shields.
   Over one another. 

 

   Are you going to write about this?
   I am writing about this. That’s what I do.
   Oh, so that’s what you doing over there.
   Yep. Don’t know if I’ll publish it, though.
   Oh, do. I need to see what you really think about the situation. How bad I fucked up.
   Come closer, I want to tell you something. She comes closer and I whisper: I love you.