Everything Matters

Nothing matters, she said, but only it did. Everything mattered.

Fuck you, she said.

I love you, I said.

She took my hand in hers. She held it to her wet cheeks. I leaned down and tasted her tears. They were bitter.

She took my hand in hers. She held it to her breast. It was warm. It moved with her breaths, and I held my own breath, afraid to move, afraid that the feeling would stop.

I shouldn’t have worried. The feeling remains. Even all that came afterwards, even after what she did to me before, the feeling remained.

Even now, it doesn’t matter that she is no longer breathing.

*

I stared at the spot on the wall. I watched it grow. Maggots fell from rotting sheetrock. They squirmed on the ground without legs, just pale bodies grown fat and useless. I know what they feel like. It’s frustrating to sit around waiting for something that may never come, unable to feel like a grownup, being unable to fly.

*

She hid from me. Somewhere. I never found her. I cleaned my blades. I washed the floor with bleach.

*

Sometimes, she took my hands in hers without taking my hands. Her hands were so cold and stiff. The fingers hardly moved. I think her pinkie broke off.

*

One day her mother came by.

Where is she? she asked.

I don’t know, I said.

She finally up and left you, huh?

Yeah. I guess so.

*

I never liked her mother very much.

*

One night I lay in bed and stared at the stains and holes in the wall. I heard breathing. I held my own breath, but I could still hear the breathing. Almost like a heartbeat in another story but not quite. The sound didn’t disturb, it comforted.

She breathed in my ear and told me everything is going to be okay.

I believed her.

I always believed her.

Even when I knew better.

*

Time moves like a sick turtle. It crawls and lurches, and every now and then, it hides in its shell. I like my shell. It is covered in ancient faux wood siding. It hasn’t changed a lick since my parents died. Except there are holes in the wall and a lot more flies. Her scent pervades the house with the smell of the others.

*

Nothing matters, she said, but only it did. Everything mattered.