Remembering

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

“Oh Lord, Flo. The night I found you! I was going into that party your friend took you to. You were sitting under a tree crying. When I asked what was wrong, you told me about your friend and your questioning. I said I’d help you. You were a little wasted so you agreed.”

“Wait…” I thought back to that night. I saw the road and Renolds come sweeping in like a Lesbian goddess. The background changed to the bustling street and loud music of the party I was at. I thought about the entire meeting of Renolds. I remembered running out of the house as Lika’s face got closer to mine. I felt the ghosts of tears running down my face as I sat under a tree. I saw Renolds crouch beside me and ask what was wrong. I felt myself spilling the story of Lika. Renolds arms had wrapped around me in a loose hug. Then she dragged me off and promised to help me. I agreed. I didn’t remember drinking any alcohol… but I did recall drinking something mysterious Lika had brought me.

My make believe past fell away and the magic of Renolds disappeared. She was just some girl and I was just some stranger she picked up along the way. The mystery of the trip disappeared too. It wasn’t some dream or drug trip. It couldn’t even be as farfetched as some goddess taking me through the steps of being gay. It was just Renolds.

I looked over at her. The brightness didn’t radiate from her skin. Her eyes didn’t look glazed over with age and knowledge. Her overall being didn’t beam greatness. Her skin was dull. Her eyes were dead. Her being was just there. I felt like I was at the hands of someone hopelessly normal.

“Oh,” I said and watched the road passed.

“What?”

“I just… didn’t realize this was all so… normal. I had a bit of hope it wasn’t even real.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s life. It’s boring. So you do all the crazy shit you can to make it not boring. Than when you have to stop, you have the memories of all the crazy shit you did. That’s how I see it. And yeah, it’s painfully boring. To the point that sometimes you want to die. But you know what? Death could be a hell of a lot more boring than life.”

“I feel like that was an ‘It Gets Better’ talk…”

“I should have an ‘It Gets Better’ video… It’d be entertaining. I’d just go on about how amazing it is to be gay. And that brings us back to the Gayiversary party. I should teach you the ways of my people, your surrogate people for the time being. We get each other presents. It usually ends up being sex toys and lingerie. That’s just how my people are. Oh! And alcohol. We don’t say no to that…

“So it’s like a birthday party. Except better. Because it’s very… interesting. You’ll see,” She gave me a flashy smile and pulled back onto the road.

“I’m scared…”

“You should be,” Renolds drove with a too content smile on her face. I sank down in my seat and closed my eyes. I had too many thoughts racing through my head to do anything else.