That’s what he always did, wasn’t it? Filled in the spaces you didn’t consume.
Moonlight to your Sunshine.
He gave our feelings the shadows to hide.
Its hard, you know? To accept that he knows. Has always known, probably from the beginning. Bowen is a lot of things, Brett, but dumb is not one of them.
I like to pretend that I was a master at dodging my feelings and hiding behind attitude and avoidance. I like to pretend that you were the only one in the world to know my secret.
It was a space in my life that you didn’t consume, and he couldn’t.
I punished him for it, didn’t I? Whether intentionally or not.
I’mback at that same place now that I was when I woke up to him that morning. Our relationship is rocky. I can still smell the smoke on my skin and the grit of sugar on my teeth. My heart beating a little unsteadily from the night with him.
I have to choose differently this time.
Choose my hard.
Choose to love him as loudly as I always loved you, not because my love for him is easy. But because he deserves it.
I will miss you with every breath I have left.
I will love him with each one, and all the spaces between.
Bowen
The condensation on the mirror blurs my reflection. I can make out my dark hair, dark brows and beard. It’s not until I swipe my hand, smearing through the fogged glass, that I get to come face to face with myself.
Sometimes I lock eyes and forget it’s my own I’m looking at.
I never thought Brett and I looked all that much alike until I was all that was left to look at. Time has its way with memory, leaving behind a dimmed version of what we got in reality. Looks a lot more like me that way.
I don’t always wipe the glass.
Some days, I do, and don’t bat an eye.
Some days, I look at the face of my brother and feel like I’m going to puke.
Havefucking puked.
On my worst days, I talked to my reflection like I was talking to him. I yelled. I screamed. My first days in the cabin were a fever dream. Years ofmostly pent-up grief and fear tore me down until I stumbled in here on the edge of sanity.
I had never been so scared in my life as I was two years ago.
Before the wooden walls of the cabin held me in, I walked the planks of the dock to the end and dreamed of stepping off. I closed my eyes and envisioned the water embracing me. Lulling me in its quiet peace, pulling me down to the deepest part, and holding me there until the pain stopped.
A crow squawking overhead snapped me out of my daydream, one foot dangling over the edge. I haven’t considered going in once since.
Today, I see myself. Just me.
My breath is steady as I cover my cheeks with shaving cream. I go through the process and pretend it's just another day.
Hard to do, though, when Kit is singing some sad indie folk shit out in the hall. My face splits into a grin when his voice cracks on a powerful note. My heart fucking jolts when I see the reflection of it.
He belts out something about your needs and my needs, then follows up with a truly horrendous guitar riff that sounds something like, “nurrr nur nur nur nurrrr nur nur nur nununununu….” Whatever is left of the smile slips off when his singing is abruptly cut off by a loud bang and him yelling.
The bathroom door bounces off the wall with a crack when I whip it open. My bedroom door is already wide open, though, and I see Kit in the hallway in a heap on the floor. The contents of the cupboard are scattered all over the floor around him.
