Tag Archives: friend

The Rules of Love

Trigger warning: self-harm



No matter what lies you’re feeding yourself. It’s just a chemical and neural process. Something you can’t fight. Love is not a lie, but it is not much more than a very special kind of addiction.

An addiction you can manufacture.

Show niceness and attention. Laugh and flirt. Then withdraw. That’s what I did to you.

It’s a very simple effect, primed in our brains from times immemorial – we all need to get the best possible partner. But the best possible partner is too good for us and so he – or she – will try to get away, he will roam more and look for his best possible partner.

So the one that chases you is unattractive. The one that keeps you on edge; the one that tortures you with confusion and grows an eternal insecurity in you – that’s the one you love.

That’s why you love me, Brian. Continue reading

The happiest man in the world

A big smile on his lips. Nice words here and there. Everybody liked the happiest man in the world. The happiest man in the world met a friend in the elevator. “All perfect?” he asked. “Sure,” said the friend. “And you?” “Oh,” said the happiest man in the world. “You know me, I’m always happy!” The happiest man in the world greeted the cashier. She laughed about his joke and he laughed back. The happiest man in the world waved to a neighbor. The happiest man in the world closed the door. The happiest man in the world opened a bottle of beer. “It’s just us again,” he said. Then he drank. Then he cried.

Bus

The bus turns left. Another man’s body pushes hard against mine. Warm, soft, alive. He doesn’t apologize. I don’t say a word. I don’t look at his face. The bus stops and he takes his bag and rushes through the door. His smell lingers. On my way home I think of him, feel his warmth, smell his sweat. My first friend in months, since that old lady at the supermarket smiled at me.

Swim Club

The first time I arrived at the club I could think of nothing but my brother.

Bare walls covered with dirty blue tiles, foldable wooden chairs, a net on top of what used to be a pool. Five men inside.

Not a place you find in the newspapers; a place to which your friend brings you along. A place where you know that whoever is running the show must have a lot of friends and certainly the right friends – because if they don’t the place would long be shut down.

When you have crossed the parking lot the first thing the two large men ask for is your name. They don’t ask for you ID, but they ask for your name and if your name is not on the list then you won’t get in. The list says whether you’ve been there before; the list says whether someone trusted you enough to bring you along the first time. The list also has the name of the friend that brought you along and if you mess up then that friend will have a problem. Continue reading

He was always there

Tyler entered my life as if he had always been there; it was almost surreal, the way he came and approached me and made a joke and the next and the next and I couldn’t stop laughing. There was a second date, then a third, and I knew that there would be no one else, ever, that could be like him.

His smell made me think of home. His voice made me calm and relaxed. His hobbies were like mine and he care about all those little, weird things that I cared about.

He was not my type physically, but no matter if you are man or woman – someday you will find that the physical doesn’t matter and that there is an attraction deeper than the physical, an attraction that you can neither stop nor increase, an attraction that just lives like a silent flame in the basement right below your heart. It got warm, hot even, when he came closer. His touch made me tingle, his words made me bite my lips.

Like a little girl, a fifteen or sixteen year old, in love for the first time; that’s what I felt like. That’s what I was. Mentally and emotionally reduced to the level of an early teen. I was there for him, and only for him. Continue reading

Jesus of Narnia

This story is also available in Polish.


Since the breakup Melanie lived in two worlds. In the weeks with me she lived in zoos and museums and books, in the weeks with her mother she lived in bible classes and religious movies and churches.

It was confusing for her, the constant switch from reading books to believing books and back. Maybe that’s why we failed to protect her.

It was in the summer. Melanie had just turned 10. Her first summer week was spent in a bible camp. When her mother finally dropped her at my place she also brought a big bag of books.

I still remember how Hailey cocked her head.

“You always want her to read. Now she has good books. What more do you want?” Continue reading