Chapter 3: January 2/January 8, 2011

January 2, 2011

I have finally arrived home, thank the Lord. I have been dusting practically all day, which made it particularly rewarding to lay down in my pajamas and watch some television. There’s nothing much to watch on cable lately, so I turned on a documentary about seahorses. They are just so adorable, I would definitely own one if I had the time to take care of it.

Did you know that a seahorse uses its tail to hold onto things, to keep them grounded while they eat? Isn’t that an interesting fact? I wish I could keep myself grounded in life, generally. I don’t have a special prehensile tail to help me. The only thing that keeps me sane some days is watching cute documentaries about animals.

I find the natural word so fascinating. I love all creatures, but I especially love the cute ones. I find seahorses the cutest of course, but I’m partial to penguins and cats as well. I’ve considered adopting a cat in need of care, but I always find myself too busy… it’s sad.

Maybe I prefer animals to people for a reason. They never talk back, they never yell at me and tell me how I’m just a worthless sack of meat. They live their lives and they don’t even question their purpose, their place in the universe, they just… do. Emperor Penguins migrate 100 miles in ice cold Antarctica on their little legs and they don’t even give it a second thought… I admire that. 

I wish I was that strong. I wish I could do something with my life and not constantly question what my mother and mère would think, what would happen to me in society… It’s sad, really, how superficial society is. 

Why does it matter that I have two mother’s, or that I prefer men over women, romantically. It only matters to people because of their useless religions and opinions on matters that don’t affect them. It is not like I’m forcing every man I see to bend over for me!

Sorry, I’m acting like a fool again. I’ve been so frustrated about the public reactions to my sexuality lately. I tried to tell my mére over the holidays, but she gave me this look of complete disgust. She even tried to get me to explain how “my kind” have sex, but I thought that she was going to vomit when I tried to tell her… 

Other than my parents, most people in my life already know about my sexuality. Most of them have reacted positively, which makes me feel a bit better about the predicament with my mother’s. You think that a lesbian couple would be able to handle having a bisexual son, but… they seem to think of my love for men as something that’s fixable with a few beatings. 

But back to today’s activities. I haven’t done very much other than cleaning and watching documentaries, although Carson did give me a call. He’s coming down next weekend to tell me something he deemed as “important”, which is annoying. Maybe it’s because he’s annoying, but still. Just for one full week I would like to be completely alone. No family, no friends, no work… only relaxation. A break would be nice.

Though I’m afraid if I had a weeklong break I’d drink my entire supply of alcohol. Then I would have to buy more, which would be a huge pain… so I suppose I’m better off without breaks like that. 

Yeah, I need other people in my life, or I will just drink myself into my grave within a few hours. I would prefer to die a natural, peaceful death if that is at all possible. Preferably with… I don’t know who I would want by my side, actually. 

Maybe I would have that Sem guy by my side. Oh, he seems so nice… I’m sure he would hold my hand and whisper something reassuring to me in my last moments on this planet. I wouldn’t want that to happen, of course, I prefer being alive to being dead, but if I could invite anyone to my deathbed, it would definitely be Sem. I wish I could see him again so much, I could kill someone.

Maybe he could help me feel better after my weeklong visit to my family. Usually, the only thing that makes me feel better is animal documentaries, but having Sem around would be a nice change of pace. I wonder what his skin feels like against mine, I’m sure he has soft hands and gives lovely hugs…

God, I’m starting to sound like such a sappy idiot for this man I don’t even know! What is wrong with me? I thought I had learned my lesson about love already, but it seems I have not… I doubt Sem would even feel the same way for a man like myself, as I am nothing special, in truth. There’s hardly anything to salvage from the scraps of a personality I have left.

There’s no point in waiting for someone to come and save you. I should know, I spent almost my entire childhood and teenagdom wishing, begging, praying for someone to save me from my parents. It never happened. I gave up on hoping for better days when I was only sixteen. 

No one is going to help me if I were to have a heart attack right now, and that’s fine with me. It’s better this way. I’m better off by myself. 

Don’t you think it’s interesting that seahorses have only one fin? It’s why they move so damn slow, because their one fin cannot propel them very fast. I feel like that. I’ve been swimming on one fin for so long, it feels natural. I’ve made so little progress in my life… every day I wake up. The same people, the same routine, the same insults, the same drink, the same everything. 

I am so sick of scotch.

-Aaron H. Washington 

January 8, 2011

The last few days have been completely uninteresting. I’ve done nothing but work and watch the occasional seahorse documentary. Every attempt at a journal entry was cripplingly boring, and I doubt anyone, even myself, would want to read it. 

I’m only writing this because Carson arrived and I just need a place to get out my frustration or I might explode at him, and then mère will kill me, and I am not deserving of that kind of death over Carson.

Carson is best described as childish and arrogant, not a particularly good combination. He brags near constantly about everything he’s ever done, like he’s somehow God’s gift upon this Earth… when I’ve done almost everything he has done, but much better. I don’t understand why my mothers are so fond of him. They do not hit him or yell at him the same way they do for some of my other siblings… I would say it’s because he’s the youngest, but I know that cannot be it.

Carson’s twin, Jacques, had it much worse than me or Carson ever did. Before he ran away, that is. 

I prefer not to think about him. My mothers get angry at the mere mention of him. I do hope he’s living a better life now, though. Even I realize that the way mother and mère treated him was completely unjustified and awful. 

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Enough about him though, I’m rather certain that Carson is heading into my office at the moment

The words stop there. The assumption is that Carson came into the room and Aaron stopped writing.

-

“Aaron!” Carson yelled, as he entered the office with a grin. Aaron sat up, closing his journal and huffing. He poured himself a glass of scotch. 

“I was writing. What would you like?” Aaron inquired, but Carson just shrugged.

“Just wanted to annoy you.” Carson said with a smirk and a laugh. Aaron downed his scotch and rolled his eyes. 

“Well, you’ve succeeded. Leave me alone.”

Carson giggled like a schoolchild, “No,” he said, making Aaron want to pummel him into the ground already. But Aaron took a deep breath and huffed, his current frustration going in the large bottle of other emotions he would soon drown in scotch.

“Fine. Do you want a drink?” 

“No, ugh. I don’t know how you like that stuff…”

Childish. You should hurt him in a way that will make him grow up.

Aaron blinked as he ignored the intrusive thought passing through his head, pouring himself more scotch. He sipped it slowly this time. He did not actually want to hurt Carson. They were brothers, and hurting Carson would never be worth it, no matter how annoying he got.

“It helps me be a better man. Your thing for marijuana is stupid and childish, like most drugs are. A real man should be drinking.”

Carson looked away, and Aaron could sense he got his point across correctly. Good, Carson had to learn the way things were one way or another. Marijuana is for weak people, and only the strong could stand hard liquor. 

“… okay. Can I have a sip?”

“Sure.” Aaron smiled, reaching into his desk and grabbing a glass like his own and setting it on his desk. He poured a small amount of the drink into the glass, and slammed the rest of his own drink down. Carson seemed impressed, taking his glass and taking a small sip.

He immediately began coughing and gagging, just like Aaron expected him to. Carson grimaced, his entire face scrunching up as he put the drink back down on Aaron’s desk.

“That was disgusting- I don’t understand how you can drink like that.”

“You get used to it.” Aaron insisted, downing what was Carson’s drink down as well. That was when Aaron began to feel a tad tipsy. He burped and smiled, bursting out into laughter.

“… and you call me childish.” Carson said with a smirk. Aaron began laughing even harder.

“You are!” Aaron said, staring at the now blurry face of his younger brother as he giggled. 

Stupid. You’re getting drunk in front of him. He will tell your mothers all about your drinking habits and they will send you to a rehabilitation center.

Aaron just downed another drink. He wanted to drink enough that the sound of the intrusive voice would turn into more fog. He didn’t remember what happened after that point, but he did have the good fortune to wake up in the bed of a man he didn’t remember the name or face of. He was rather cute, though.

As much as the hangover sucked, at least he could watch this man sleep for a short while. The slow breathing was relaxing, and put Aaron back to sleep almost immediately. When he woke up once again, the man was gone.

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