“Angelina, do you think he’d ever make you choose?” I ask my lover as we cuddle naked in her bed under a colorful quilt her great-grandmother made before she was born. I love the sense of history as much as I do its warmth.
I feel her body pull away from me a little as she turns her head away and sighs. “I think he is afraid.” Turning back to me she kisses me softly at first then hard stealing my breath preventing me from breathing she inhales all the breath in my lungs into hers.
“What is that about?” I gasp trying to catch my breath, coughing. “are you a succubus all of a sudden?”
“Raquelita, I’ve put off telling you, please don’t be upset, I’m pregnant.” She quickly rolls on top of me pinning me down I imagine I can feel a small hard roundness pushing into me our bellies pressed together.
“What will you say when he asks you to choose?” I whisper. My heart is beating wildly.
“Ahh, mi amor, what answer do you think? What could I say? Please don’t ask me this. I don’t want to hurt you let me love you instead.” she says regretfully as she bites and sucks my neck.
“Yes, no. Please.” I moan, heartsick and afraid how can my body betray me and become aroused?
“Just enjoy what you have when you have it, for however long it is.” She whispers as if reading my mind.
I’d just walked into my room, and all I wanted to do was change out of my school clothes. I wanted to lay down and take a nap. Pretending to be normal was exhausting. Always on alert censoring my thoughts and words. I shouldn’t complain after all Krissy did pick me to be her partner in Algebra class.
Thinking about her my heart fluttered, skipped and then beat faster. Arms behind my head eyes closed I smiled at the memory of her saying my name. It took great effort not to tremble when I sat next to her. It was impossible not to feel her body heat radiating along with the smell of her perfume. I wondered if she knew the reaction she was causing. I’d kept my face neutral with a practiced smile on my lips, so I was confident that she didn’t have a clue.
Broken out of my reverie my mother shouting for me to bring in the trash can. Groaning at not having a moment’s peace, I got up shuffled down the hall and went out the door to get the can from the curb.
The concrete was warm and rough underneath my bare feet. Maybe I’d wiggle my toes in the thick grass after I’d put the can up. I’d have to focus on not overdoing it and getting yelled at by my parents. They just didn’t understand how intense and enjoyable the sensation was. Although to be fair, I suppose rolling around was a tiny bit much.
The pain came before the sound of shattering glass, a bottle breaking against the carport wall. I was confused I couldn’t grasp what was happening. I saw the top of my right foot bleeding profusely from many cuts. I tried to walk forward, but my foot couldn’t support me. I’d stepped on a large piece, and it was embedded in the bottom of my heel. I hopped inside the house on one foot trying to avoid the glass.
I cried out for my mother I begged her to come quickly. My father came in from outside at the same time she rushed into the room. He told her to leave that he was already taking care of it. I’d been disobedient, I went outside without shoes on and so was suffering the consequences. She walked out without once having looked me in the eyes.
I feel an empty hole where my heart should be. One day I will cut myself open and see if it is missing.
I grew up with the knowledge that one day god will destroy everyone I love. When I surrendered to the fact that I was gay, I accepted that I would not live forever, not in paradise, not in heaven. I’m 26 in ‘worldly’ years if I count that my birth was from the point I was honest with myself and walked out the door. Were I to die tomorrow, it would be without regret. I’ve not held back even when the terror of rejection gripped my heart at having fallen in love. I loved, fucked and laughed as my spirit directed. A dark abyss or a state of bliss, at least I lived honestly.
Feeling anxious, negative self-talk, thinking the worst, hating myself, hating others for ‘making’ me feel uncertain and stupid. Memories looping thru my consciousness.
Back muscles tense, electrical jolts along my spine. I want to cut myself, pain to distract from the pain. Disrupt the signals by overwriting them with something more powerful. I freeze in my tracks as still as death.
Passion and agony, the combination forces the roar in my head to go silent. I feel the beauty of life, the wonder of being alive, every molecule in my being burns. Melting back into myself I am reborn.
Where I have no control, I let go. I am many pieces to this whole. Influenced only by those within my circle. Outside my sphere, I see those that would harm me. On guard against being vulnerable, I avoid dark spirits. Those let in are free to wander wherever they desire. I’ve no secrets inside my heart.
In the distance, I hear the groans of a society filling its loneliness with electromagnetic distractions. Anxiety inducing vibrations preventing the earth’s soothing hum from giving them peace.
I breathe. I fill my lungs deeply stretching them. Positive energy fills every cell of my body burning out the impurities of a day spent outside my cocoon. I break the connection. Silence. Again I exist in bliss.
The world does not see me beating my fist against my forehead trying to numb my mind, to silence my thoughts, a cracked record repeating, “stupiddumbstupiddumb.” A young child filled with fear of her creator, I died with the first bloody thrust of the maker’s tool. Emotions muted by thick black clouds of depression nothing can penetrate the shell around my heart. I remain as a shameful stain poisoning the soul of this broken and scarred body.
My anxiety feels like molten lava poured over an iceberg inside my skull. My brain boils and bubbles up flashes of painful memories before transforming my thoughts into a reddish-black sludge. Taking deep breaths and holding them as long as I can before my vision goes gray against the pressure building inside. I am defeated. I am not enough and never will be.