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The Way We Are (Some Explicit Content)
Balancing on the edge of rhyme and reason, I pick up the phone. Not so much as to talk, but to stop the ringing. It’s the same pitch as the one in my head. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. But I can’t seem to recall much anymore with the insomnia and alcohol. Essentials of a life in the day…
When you speak, my heart clicks into place. Like a puzzle. Or the safety being removed; gun cocked.
“Hey lovely.”
I have to concentrate to hear your voice. It’s that soft. Like your telling me a secret. I lean in. I can almost feel your breath on my cheek. Secrets. Secrets. Secrets.
“Remember when I used to cheat on you?”
This is how he is, we are. We don’t ever fuck around. We get right to the point.
“Yeah, I do.”
And then we pause. The space between us pulls in a deep breath. Filling it’s chest with oxygen and honesty. The mix is volatile. A spark.
“Marissa. Her. She’s dead.”
I regret it somewhere. Distantly. Despite the images that come to mind. Him and her in our bed. Their bodies moving under our sheets. Hearing her voice invade our bedroom in the early mornings. Smelling her on him.
“How?”
“AIDS.”
I feel like crochet needles have been shoved down my throat.
“She was young.”
“24.”
“Did you go?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know?”
“Kinda.”
“I’m not going to even ask what the fuck that means.”
When he’s cryptic there’s no use in bothering.
“So you been tested?”
“Not yet. But I thought I’d give you a heads up.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You know I love you. You know I’m sorry.”
He always does this. Doesn’t make statements. Makes excuses. Somehow turns this around.
“I do.”
How perfect would it be for us to die together? How appropriate. I think this thought and let it sit on the tip of my tongue. Savor it.
“Say more than two words and I’ll fuck you like you haven’t been fucked since you left me.”
“I never left you. I can’t leave you. That’s 8. Bring on the fucking.”
It’s true. We are always together. Sometimes I can read his mind. I just know it. I’ll be at the movie theatre and I’ll hear him in my head.
“Why do I hurt you?”
“I ask for it.”
“You do.”
“I need you.”
“This conversation needs to stop soon.”
“Why?”
“You make me want to die.”
“Same.”
“I need you.”
“You have me.”
“I know.”
“This makes no sense.”
I sigh.
Two hours later we’re standing in the same spot.
My phone battery dies. Thank god. We’ll finish this. Another night.
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"all moves onward and outward, nothing collapses"
---Walt Whitman
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At least I think... so... 
