“Are you drinking?”
I knew what to say based on years of rehearsed emotion. I took a long sip and offered desperate reassurance that I was still quitting. Tried to remind him I was dying.
He told me about the sloppy blowjob his girlfriend gave him and I hung up and allowed myself to feel one inch of my heart break before I polished off the bottle. Listened to the same song on repeat. I googled “suicide by asphyxiation,” “Hara Kiri” “self immolation.” I spent most of that winter engaged in battle. I walked most nights to 7-11. I answered all of his calls. I pet my cat when she would have me. I missed my mother while she was alive.I was googling the death rate in Syria and trying to write about it. He and I were getting to know ourselves through the cracks in each other.
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