Either off to Kansas City or a student from Kiev.

The makeup was thick and I gave it my all.

Though I can’t sing worth a damn.

Parents and friends and people from church all sitting uncomfortably on those crappy wooden chairs, the ones we pulled out for assemblies at school.

No theater for us, not back then. We had the stage at one end of the gym.

Catholic school, but Greek gods presided over the whole affair from painted murals on the brick walls.

They had waited until after the show to tell me.

A trend adopted for various circumstances throughout this, my quarter life.

Family, relationships, friends, fun.

Put on hold.

Until success, until applause, until the work is done, until after the show.

He’s had a heart attack

and I felt… nothing.

I couldn’t even drum up the most fleeting of emotions.

Simply nothing.

Well at least until I had my turn beside his bed.

In the hospital.

My father for once looking less than dangerous, almost vulnerable.

And so I took my shot.

“I wish you’d just die.…”

And I walked out. Maybe that was an emotion, more than passive aggression certainly, but it still felt like… nothing.

5

In the basement we were playing.

At the farmhouse

A Coors Light Girl and Tom Cruise from Cocktail watched us

From posters on the wall.

Playing school. Naked, naturally.

He kissed me and I kissed him back. That’s what boys and girls did.

But who was I in this equation?

12

A tiny slit to look out.

Just the length of a ruler.

And so I watched as I played.

Unable to pull my eyes away.

Sitting in the dark.

Broken only by a soft, blue glow

My small lamp was wrapped in cellophane.

People crying and singing too.

But mostly crying.

Forty bucks if I recall. Forty bucks a pop.

My friends had normal part-time jobs.

I waited for the phone to ring. Someone died?

Great. Forty bucks.

Playing in the dark. In the closet.

Facing the corpse, eyes glued to it through that tiny slit.

My fingers chorded “Nearer My God to Thee.”

The people sang but mostly cried.

And I smiled in the dark. Forty bucks.

28

Lying in the dark. We’ve been waiting to meet.

Over six months talking. Met online.

And now here I am. Lying in the dark. On his bed.

He’s sleeping. I’m a wreck.

The heat is oppressive. I kick one leg out from under the covers.

Sigh.

I don’t mean to, it just escapes me.

I’ve built this up so much. Wanted to find happily ever after.

It’s what I’m always searching for. My Waterloo.

I brought gifts. Fucking gifts.

Shirts and underwear, stuffed animals and CDs, soaps and candles and massage oils.

Even jewelry.

Like I could force the poor sucker to love me.

Like we could cram six months of online chatting into a week finally together.