Denton, 2020

I’m looking for some advice from Rosie today. It gets to feeling like she has so much shit figured out that I don’t. Clyde said she was becoming a man and that just figures right cuz I was born with a dick but no matter where I put it I end up feeling like being a man is like reaching the pedals to drive. You’re too short until you’re just not anymore so whatever Rosie’s secret is I want to know it so I go to her house but I guess it’s the wrong year cuz nobody’s home and I end up eating my lunch staring at the dust on the tv in her living room. The room is quiet anyway but quieter than quiet how it gets when Rosie isn’t in a room. I don’t even hear it when Evie comes in but she’s moving slow and her arms are crossed like she’s working up to telling me real gentle that she’s divorcing me and I have to move out.

You know…………...I hate to do this. I fuckin hate the catwalk and i hate the look on evies face when she sees me climb up there with a burger and a coke and a blanket like I’m never gonna leave. She looks up at me like right NOW Brad? you’re gonna make fun of my dress NOW when i just triedd on six of them for you and you said they were all just OK but sitting there in the old twenty twenty isn’t like my idea of fun you know. Just know I hate this. I didn’t get stuck two years ahead of this moment for kicks alright?

The metal up here is broken in pretty good by me, it clangs in all the right places making me feel as heavy as my thoughts and when i sit down, she scoffs at me hard. I can’t fuckin help it so evie looks like she’s over my shit and shakes her head and goes back to the scene she’s got going on with the REAL me in the REAL world but guess what? she can’t get her mind off of me sitting up all the way up there and maybe it’s cuz I’m droppin lettuce from my double double or maybe it’s cuz she likes me better than that joke down there who doesn’t have anything to say she doesn’t already know.

yeah ok so she wants to get married to adam so what? So I’ll tell you what. That numbnuts down there with my name and MY wife is gonna tell her that’s cool what does that mean you guys are already married so what’s his sick shit about anyways? Can I be a fuckin groomsman evie wow you’d look great in one of those flapper style thing you thought about that one time JESUS CHRIST MAN, DON’T DO IT. yeah, i’m her brother, I’m her best friend, I’ve been her fuckin mom before but this is a joke.

It’ss real dark up on the catwalk and bright down there on the stage where I’m sitting on the couch that looks like Al Bundy’s. i don’t blink and I start thinking there’s a reason for why it’s like that, bright on the stage and dark up here. You know, a different reason than the obvious. What do I know just cuz I’m up here where there’s more information? Knowing something like the real solid gold fucking wisdom about some shit is not the same as only having the information about it. Yeah I know what’s gonna happen but I’m still in the dark unlike that me down there that’s all lit up in the afternoon that’s the same in twenty different subsequent years. THAT guy UNDERSTANDS why knowing what THIS GUY knows doesn’t matter. I could tell her we’re gonna be married but it’s not gonna make us be married.

I hate Back to the Future, but I know I’m Marty McFuckingFly now because I get it now. I get how it makes sense that you have to go save your grandpa so you save your own life to save your grandpa and so on. That’s real, that’s what it’s like and you can blame Escher and say it’s nonsense if you wanted to but wait until you yourself step in some dog shit just like it and see what you really believe. I don’t believe in God or anything like that but you can bet I believe what Doc Brown says, absolutely. I absolutely do.

So yeah, so I tell her don’t and I tell her that cuz what if I don’t want her to? I already know she’s gonna tell me it doesn’t hurt my chances or have shit to do with us in an invasive or even substantive ripple effect kinda way. I already know but she tells me I’m late anyways so I know she just wants to DISCUSS the alternate universe where she’s not already married to Adam but she doesn’t wanna GO there and I know cuz she tells me I’m a little late when I tell her don’t. I tell her and she says I’m a little late like gee Brad, why are you hanging out over there when we both know that’s not real. Well gee Evie you said Adam wanted to marry you how the fuck should I know you meant he wants to marry you again. a word like again means the difference between so much shit it crushes my chest in and I can’t breathe thinking it’s the ten pound mallet of words and I got one you know, hanging up nestled in the curtain ropes up here I could do a lot of damage raining some AGAIN down on us right now what do you think?

there’s plenty of ways I could save myself from caring about who she marries or if it’s ever gonna be me. her hair color means she belongs to matthew so fuck her. She wants to play the butterfly in a net game where anything i say can and will be used against the girl she is that she has to protect from mean old Bradley who could sew up her pussy and spit in her face with a few halfassedly chosen words. I don’t have to care whether she wants to marry me or not if I remember she walked down the goddamn aisle to me once and I never forgot that and once is enough. There’s more, there’s a ton more, I’ve filled up a hundred composition notebooks with the thousand and one ways I can stop caring if I want to. but i guess hey I didn’t really want to.

I don’t want to cuz see, she’s got her own Back to the Future shit going on. Hell of a time to quit smoking. and at least in 2018 she’s looking at 2018 me with some compassion she doesn’t have for 2020 me. she reminds me i can trust her.  at least where the couch smells like we grew up therre she doesn’t think i’m just refusing to change something i couldn’t change if i wanted to. She knows the names for all the moving parts between us and how the years cut in and out. She knows she has to unravell things in the right order inside her own heart to save mine so i can save hers so she can save mine so i can save hers. i wanna tell her that i want it to end, you know? I wanna tell her her that once i save her the loops just ends right? but it doesn’t. And the endless fucking fighting we do and the shadow boxing and the games and the dancing and not knowing where we go or where this ends or where we’ve found ourselves is something i gotta admit i’m not too anxious to be done with. Ok, I like it. I like it a lot, I even did some shit I’m not proud of to protect it and still do. But I’m not talking about me I’m talking about her eyes in the afternoon and how she doesn’t get what it’s like to look at her in the afternoon at her eyes like diamonds caught in spider webs and not see love ther e just these questions about how did we get here and how do we get out. I’m talking about the slipstream of us that gets our heads underwater and I don’t know how we’re supposed to share our breath or if we shouldn’t let each other drown and this is the thing: I don’t fucking care.

Which probably shows cuz I masticaste this moment by saying nothing or all the wrong shit and my stomach starts hurting like I ate too fast but see I got this goal in mind and it’s a lot like………………………’s a lot like my dick, actually. I have this thing I wanna put inside her and I’ve done it a lot already and it does different shit every time I try and I like that. I got these ways I feel and this shit I can see from the catwalk and how that gets translated down there on the stage good bad or indifferent from the rise of the stillight to the drawing of the curtain you know, I’M still UP here when the fucking scene ends.

I love her. Isn’t that all that fucking matters? I love her so much and she should be able to see that and it should make her feel like the fuckin queen of my heart and never like I’m just tolerating her but I fucking know I don’t do it right. I don’t say the right thing or show her the right side of me, I can’t even do John’s stupid self-deprecation shit good enough to endear her to me even just a little bit. Yeah alright so I’m not endearing and I go through life sticking my dick in everything and hoping it goes ok and that gets me off. I can’t stop thinking about if there’s a huge stack of old puzzles in the closet I could mix together and light on fire and feed her the ashes. I’m into some sick shit, I know this. but either all this shit will just become enough for her one day or she’ll leave me, there’ss nothing else for me to do.

But I’m a manipulative bastard too cuz when I’m thinking all this boohoo shit, I try to make sure she can hear me cuz it gets her off a little even if she hates it too or she won’t play with my Justiified. but tThe edge of my nihilism is this thing that makes her feel endless weirdly. I can tell when she gets in my lap and slides her pussy around my fingers. Like my iniquity is no roadblock, it’s my fucking will to live and it is. When I fuck her, I wanna leave my cum inside her as much as my real detailed explanation of why this is it. We’re not going anywhere, Evie, this is it. Sometimes I feel sorry about her bad luck but there is no destination and so we’re gonna get married as many times as I feel like it and maybe she never feels any different so what? So she gives up one day? I have no problem dragging her\ corpse around to fight and fuck it and make it watch me crash planets together for her if she does. I made up my mind already we’re never gonna be apart so w/e.