Page 257 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

and the only kind I know is misery.

It’s a curse I carry.

One I keep feeding middle fingers

and every fuck I never gave.

I know it’s not healthy.

I know it’s killing me.

But still, I keep pushing,

keep pissing people off,

keep hurting myself,

I don’t know how to stop.

I was born a trainwreck

with a curse to fuck shit up.

My soul,

undone with this undoing to undo.

That’s the real horror:

knowing the pain by heart

and still pressing play.

And tonight, it feels like I’m trying to outrun a bullet I shot.

Trying to outrun a clock I wound up.

My heart’s racing as I’m pacing.

I’m standing, stalling, staring.

At Brandon undressing by the hot tub.

Brown hair wild. Tattoos. Lip ring.

At the clock again.

At Brandon.

At the seconds ticking down.

Shit. I bite my nail, torn in half.

Any moment now, that elevator will ding, and Andrew will be face to face with the guy I last fucked to forget him.

Do not feel guilty about this, Allison.

This is the point of Hell Week.