untitled

"Do you think if I wanted you for my own, I would encourage you to fuck other men?"

"No, I guess not. So you wouldn't date me, but you would fuck me?"

"Of course I would fuck you. I dream about fucking you, kissing you, touching you."




When I was in grade school I wrote a note to Christian. I put it on his desk after lunch. The note said:

I like you. If you like me, meet me by the third tree, the tree without any leaves, in the playground.

At 2:15 p.m. I rushed to the tree. I stood under the tree quietly and waited for him to like me.

He never showed up.

In my mind I thought of a million reasons why he hadn't shown up. And finally settled on the notion that he had never received the note. If he had read my note, he would have shown up. I was convinced.


I have never been comfortable with rejection.


So I live in my dream world. I make up scenarios and fantasies. I pretend not to want, not to need, not to feel too much, not to ask anything, expecting nothing.

The truth is, my heart is broken. There is nothing that can change that. No one that can fix it.

I will go on falling in love from a distance, where it is in my control. I will continue having sex with men I don't love or particularly like.




When I was 7 I had a fish, I prepared the fish tank, decorated the fish environment, named the fish, made a place on my shelf where I could see the fish. One day the fish tank was missing. I asked my mother what happened to it. She told me she had removed the tank a week earlier. When I asked her why, she said, because the fish had died.