Alexander Jay Adam 

I was sitting apart from her on the couch, staring into her eyes, and there was just nothing there. I’m not trying to say she’s an idiot; I just wasn’t feeling those sparks, you know? There was no energy, no tension, no predatory hunger. Which sucked. I mean, she looked bored. Hell I was bored, and I desperately wanted to be there. I’d been fantasizing this moment for weeks. Christ, man. Staring into her eyes was depressing the hell out of me.

And so I wanted to tell her that my baby brother had died. Which would have been a lie. It’s not true at all, actually, my brother’s fine. But I started to fantasize about what it would be like if he wasn’t, you know? I even sort of wished he wasn’t, just so I could tell her about it and not have it not be a lie. Get a rise out of her, have her show a little emotion, or sympathy or interest or something. I mean Jesus- I wanted her to be interested in something about me- I don’t know.

But I felt bad for wanting it to be true, man. I mean, damn. I can be twisted. The kid is diseased for crying out loud. He’s got diabetes, which really isn’t a joke. It kills you if you don’t take care of it. This kid I went to middle school with died a few years ago because of diabetes complications.

Not that that’ll happen to my brother. He’s… different, you know? He’s thirteen, but organized as hell. He takes care of himself. His AC1, which is this number that measures your “average blood sugar level” over long periods of time, is really good. His numbers are better even than a lot of people who don’t have diabetes. I mean he’s this awesome lacrosse player, he eats right, he does well in school. “Does well in school” doesn’t even begin to do it justice- the kid works so hard, and he’s so brilliant and he just loves his life so much even though he’s sick-… he’s beautiful, you know? He’s like this little superman, albeit a slightly disease-ridden superman.

And all I could think of was how touching it would be if he was dead. I just wanted to get a rise out of this girl. Jesus. I was sitting on her couch in this emotional vacuum and… I get lonely, you know? I guess that’s why I started fantasizing… well you know. I thought that if I could show her- look, this kid is beautiful and just knowing that he’s good keep me whole- if I could make her believe he was gone, it would show her how I have this void I wanted her to fill, you know? Which is just fucked because my brother isn’t gone and so I don’t have a void I need her to fill.

But I felt bad, man. I mean, how could I think that about my boy? God- I’ve been reading too much medieval Japanese poetry. Medieval Japanese poetry is all about beautiful people getting fucked and how beautiful it is. It sucks. It sucks and it’s making me morbid. And selfish.

It’s selfish but I wanted…I don’t know what I fucking wanted, but I sure as hell wasn’t getting it, you know? Damn it.

Still. It scares me that I almost did, though. Tell her, you know? That lie? What was I thinking? I dunno. I just get lonely.

- by Alexander Jay Adam