Said I want to fuck her. She took offense. Told her to keep her signals straight. She took offense. Wanted communication. Wanted it casual. Wanted me to know without having to tell me. I didn’t need that. None of it. It’s any wonder I prefer the brief company of whores. Interaction with far more clarity. Waste of my goddamn time. I reached 50,000 words of nonsense. Garbage. “Don’t do that,” said a friend. “You’ll regret it. I’m telling you you’ll look back and you’ll regret it.” Fucking threw it away. Paced the room. Listened to the rain. Pressed my hand against the wall. Felt doors slam across the hall. Eyed the phone. Turned to the wall. Pressed flat against it. Felt a headache’s gotten more common lately. Pressed my forehead in tight. Pressed my hairy cheek against the condensation from my mouth. “Get your fucking nose job,” I said. “Get your perfect tits and pencil eyebrows. Ruin yourself.” Unrecognizable. Never notice her in a crowd again. Reading that old poison. Stories. Making me see shit I don’t want to see. There’s no room for reason here. No room for that hopeful melancholy. Talking to a kid who’s just starting. My youngest brother. Fifteen years. Got nothing for him. Got nothing. “It’s a feeling in your chest. It’s right here. It’s strong. You don’t know what it is and it gets you excited. Makes you yearn for it. You’re a chaser then and for the rest of your life. You’re chasing that feeling. That tightness. Full of something that makes you forget there’s anything else. Chasing pussy, chasing love, chasing success. Chasing a high. Do you get me? It’s hard to tell which one will do right by you and which won’t. It’s really hard.” “What do you mean?” “See? That’s my point. Never mind. You doing alright in school?” “Yeah, I guess.” “You doing alright in English? I can help you with that.” “Y-yeah. I got a B.” “That’s good, dude. Keep it up.” Friends who know give advice. Find a geek. An engineer. Someone who won’t play games. Unleash her feminine energy. That’s the worst advice just then. Not satisfying in the short term. Sat down in the big chair and called her. Rain falling there just as it was here. Early yet. In call, one hour and thirty minutes. Sat and sobered. Forgot things. Forgot advice given and received. The headache subsided enough to comfortably fuck and come into a strange girl’s mouth two hours later. Didn’t wonder how things got to be this way. Not until later. When we smiled it was genuine and temporary. A sign that I was good. She was good. We got what we needed.