Were you there before she had hair? When her eyes were still sealed shut? When she was a hyper lil kitty keeping ex bae up all night racing back and forth skidding out fucking up our studio carpet—tryna play goddamn tether ball with the studio blinds—ALL FKNG NIGHT—till I, the stern but necessary father, grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, held her out the front door, and told her “Winnie. See this? This is OUTSIDE. See over that fence there? That’s where BIG SCARY DOGS live. Over there? That’s the fkng road, bruh. Mad cars. And all of this? No cat food out here. You’re on your own out here, girl. OK now see inside? This the safe zone we’ve created for you BC WE LOVE U.

“Now settle TF DOWN!

“Mama’s gotta catch those zzzs bc Papa’s a lowlife fuck who just quit both his jobs in order to nurse his drug habits and work on a ‘book’ no one will ever publish. Mama’s gotta get that bacon!

“You’re fucking up her shit rn!”

And then play-sparred with her till she got tired and finally chilled out?

Till that catnip hitter wore off?

DID YOU DO ALL THAT?!

No bitch.

I took a breath.

“Ah,” I said, smiling. “She’s used to staying inside, huh? Her name’s Winnie, you said?”

We small-talked uncomfortably a sec.

Ex bae was outta town, Z said.

Oh, I was just passing through, I said. Thought I’d swing by.

Things calibrated.

And I coulda left em like that.

Shoulda.

But did I?

The answer is…No.

No, I did not.

“Hey,” I started, with a sense of urgency—of something I had to get off my chest.

I sensed her tense up.

Prepare for the impending discomfort blow.

“Before I go,” I said.

“I know you have your ideas about me,” I said.

“I’ve heard them,” I said. “And maybe they’re correct. Maybe I am a sus hetero bro who’s been subtly abusive and deserves to be blocked out entirely. To be cancelled. For my basic ways…”

I was seeing red. Blacking out. Blood rushing to the dome making everything go wonky.

I took a step back.

Did my best to calibrate the heart rate.

Like that rant you go on in philosophy class after the all-nighter reading Heidegger that, midway through, you feel slipping out of your control—that you suddenly, midway through, realize you forgot the initial point of.

“Look. You don’t know me. Shit, I don’t know me. Know who I am now, or who I’ll be tomorrow…”

She retreated, like this was veering into precisely the sort of abuse she’d convinced ex bae that I, by default, had been guilty of—that had warranted her abruptly ejecting herself from.