Status: Don't expect a resolution; it's not going to happen.
Cheat
IF IT BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES
Who am I?
Sam is breathing heavily next to me, still hard in the recent exposure to the air. It amazes me how long he can last, and even when he finishes it seems to go on forever. He jokingly bats at it and I grow sick to my stomach; with him, with me, with the whole situation. I can hear Claire screaming in my ear, and while I stand by that I couldn’t give two fucks about her, I do give two fucks about me.
Three years ago Reed was my one and only. Three years ago, I wasn’t controlled by this illusory red string that linked my core to Sam’s. Three years ago, I maintained a shred of dignity, and three years later, I threw it into the wind.
I slide out of bed and collect my things, dressing myself as quickly as I can to get out of his room. The pulsating bass of the music, cranked loud to cover Sam’s moans, is nearly making me deaf, the heavy weight of smoke in the air tearing my lungs apart at the seams.
“Where are you going?” Sam calls after me, but I slip out the door before he can question me any more. Avoiding the other roommates has become an art; parading nonchalantly through the living room with my backpack straight to Reed’s room. No one ever questions it. Sometimes, I wish they would.
Reed is at his desk, as usual, working on some project I wouldn’t understand. Forcefully, with reckless abandon, I kiss him into submission. Moments later I’m on top of him, and moments after that, we’re lying next to each other in a heap of panting breaths.
Reed takes me in his strong arms, the way he used to before he got so busy, and strokes my hair with atlas hands. I remember how I first felt curled into his side, like we fit together like broken pieces of red-earth clay. As he drifts into a sea of sleep, I fight the urge to cry.
Sam is breathing heavily next to me, still hard in the recent exposure to the air. It amazes me how long he can last, and even when he finishes it seems to go on forever. He jokingly bats at it and I grow sick to my stomach; with him, with me, with the whole situation. I can hear Claire screaming in my ear, and while I stand by that I couldn’t give two fucks about her, I do give two fucks about me.
Three years ago Reed was my one and only. Three years ago, I wasn’t controlled by this illusory red string that linked my core to Sam’s. Three years ago, I maintained a shred of dignity, and three years later, I threw it into the wind.
I slide out of bed and collect my things, dressing myself as quickly as I can to get out of his room. The pulsating bass of the music, cranked loud to cover Sam’s moans, is nearly making me deaf, the heavy weight of smoke in the air tearing my lungs apart at the seams.
“Where are you going?” Sam calls after me, but I slip out the door before he can question me any more. Avoiding the other roommates has become an art; parading nonchalantly through the living room with my backpack straight to Reed’s room. No one ever questions it. Sometimes, I wish they would.
Reed is at his desk, as usual, working on some project I wouldn’t understand. Forcefully, with reckless abandon, I kiss him into submission. Moments later I’m on top of him, and moments after that, we’re lying next to each other in a heap of panting breaths.
Reed takes me in his strong arms, the way he used to before he got so busy, and strokes my hair with atlas hands. I remember how I first felt curled into his side, like we fit together like broken pieces of red-earth clay. As he drifts into a sea of sleep, I fight the urge to cry.