Survivor's Remorse

I wrote a few times early on.

Did you save any of them?

I mean, have you forgotten about where we come from?

We got evicted in the middle of a fucking blizzard.

I think this is what you came here for.

- Holy shit. - I am not interested

in you telling me that you're sorry

for all the stuff you once did, not once, but many times.

Can't believe how much this neighborhood's changed.

Gentrification, dude.

I wish I would have bought some apartments back in the day.

We had no money back in the day.

Ah, now you do. You do the investing, I do the flipping.

I didn't tell him I called you, so he might not be pleased.

- The fuck did I tell you? - Reggie, the hospital called me.

What? You'll stay with us tonight.

I gotta know how my uncle had my dads killed.

There were three of them, two brothers, their cousin.

I wonder if when Uncle Julius called those goons on you,

you said, "Sorry."

I thought it would feel better.

- Pook? - Yeah?

This might sound kinda messed up, but I think I'm hungry.

- Makes sense. - No.

It's disturbing. I'm in a cemetery.

I just told three dead teenage rapists to fuck off.

Now I'm hungry? It don't make sense.

"Sense" don't gotta be in play. Hungry's hungry.

Guess it's its own thing unto itself.

Don't gotta make sense juxtaposed with something else.

Nope.

Probably not a lot of test cases for this situation like,

you know, "likelihood of appetite spiking

after visiting rape dads' graves."

Probably not written down and available for comparative purposes.

Maybe since all I've been thinking about

before I showed up at your door

was tracking down what we just tracked down,

my mind forgot about food,

but now that it's done, I'm hungry. You?

- I could eat. - I don't want to force you.

Don't gotta. I eat with no encouragement.

Just been trying not to eat after sundown or standing up.

We'd be sitting down. You could eat something light.

Just makes it worse. Sitting down to eat and not really eating?

How'd Uncle J have them killed?

"How" don't matter. "Why" does.

Man, I hope one day I got a secret I need you to keep.

All right, uh, bathroom's to the right.

Linens should be clean.

Been a while since we had a guest.

- It's all good. - T-shirt and shorts for sleeping.

- Thank you. - And, uh,

toothpaste and brush both from Missy, new.

- Thank her for me. - Oh, she'll be thanking you.

She stocks this shit for occasions like this.

Not occasions like this, exactly, but...

- I get it. - You wake up early,

there's coffee and a bunch of other shit in the kitchen.

Have at it. I'm sleeping in.

- How's your head? - It fucking hurts.

Hurts bad. Like a bottle was fucking smashed on it.

Good night.

- Hey. - Sorry, go back to bed.

I'm in bed. You mean go back to sleep?

Yes, go back to sleep.

You texted, I called, and now that I'm awake,

you want me to go back to sleep?

And I will as soon as you tell me why you texted.

Or at least after you ask me to show you a body part.

Sorry I woke you back up.

I just wanted to read you another one if you want to hear it.

I want to hear whatever you want to share.

I don't have to read it, I just, you know,

my head's spinning right now.

No, no. What did he write?

This, that. He was sorry that he was in the situation he was in.

You know, sorry he didn't write me more when I was younger

or send me Christmas presents or

have his mom come by and try to get to know me.

That he was trying not to be a cliché,

even though he was in so many ways,

all of which he took responsibility for being.

That he loved me even though he didn't know me.

These letters are him trying to get to know me.

Or at least have me get to know him.

You know, it's like a mid-life reversal of my entire life.

You know what? I don't blame my mother.

I get why she didn't... like, I get why she hid them away.

I blame the fucking landlord who evicted us

in the middle of a fucking blizzard

so she couldn't even get up on a ladder to get these letters.

Like God damn, it's all so fucking unnecessary.

It's all so fucking sad.

I feel so bad that I never got these and knew this,

or that I had this impression of him that was not accurate.

Nobody told you, and you're not a psychic.

Still.

Yeah, babe, it's fucked up.

Yeah, that's exactly what it is. It's fucked up.

He's just sitting in there, years rolling by, life in ruin.

My blood, my flesh and blood.

And all this time, I could have been, you know, connecting.

Do you want me to fly up there?

I've got frequent flyer miles saved for this kind of emergency.

You're not cashing in frequent flyer miles.

If I need you here, I'll buy you a ticket.

I don't want you to worry about me.

Pretty much the only person I'm not worried about is you.

I ju... I gotta just...

I'm gonna go back to the prison in the morning.

I gotta just try and get through tomorrow.

I don't know if he even want to see me again.

He will.

I wish I was there to hug you.

- Me too. - And then I'd give you some head.

Hey.

There's a non sequitur!

Are you smiling?

No, I'm not smiling.

Actually I'm more sad now

'cause you're not actually here to give me head.

Damn, now I'm all distracted.

Good. Well, get some rest.

I don't even know what to say to him tomorrow about all this.

Start with, "Thanks for writing,"

and then go from there.

- I love you. - I love you, too.

I could teach you how to swim.

I'm fine being a stereotype. Too old to learn now.

If you didn't want to learn, you wouldn't have brought it up.

- I didn't bring it up. - You did.

You asked me if I knew how to swim.

- Don't change the subject. - I'm not a water person.

'Cause you're afraid of drowning.

Who's not afraid of drowning?

Drowning is a horrible way to go.

But you know who don't drown?

People who stay out of the water.

You know who do? People who go in the water.

You're sitting there eating a salad.

You forced me to.

Got nothing to do with swimming.

Does so. You keep eating healthy, you're gonna live longer.

The longer you live, the more the oceans rise.

The more the oceans rise, the more we're surrounded by water.

- Jury's still out. - Pook, the permafrost is melting.

When something that's defined

as permanently frosted is rapidly defrosting,

- pay heed. - It's 40 degrees in May.

And you can see your breath outside.

At least learn how to tread water.

How you doing?

Thought I'd feel better.

Thought if I went there and put eyes on it,

in the same physical space as the dead bodies

and told them to fuck off, it would be like some kind of,

I don't know, some kind of ritual

that would bring more of a resolution.

- More closure. - It will eventually.

You know the best part about being here with you right now?

I don't want to have sex with you.

I have that effect on lesbians.

I'm just saying one of the things I've been working on in therapy,

or what I'm trying to work on and haven't consistently succeeded at,

is whenever I'm faced with any kind of stress,

I look to release it with sex.

Something about the endorphins engaged via sex

is the drug I rely on for mental peace of mind.

- That's normal. - No.

Deep breaths, counting to ten, going for a run,

chanting, smoking a joint, that's normal.

Not getting on Tinder when you feel discombobulated

looking for a random chick whose face you can bury in your crotch.

I mean, sure it works temporarily,

but it's not a constructive solve for the long term.

Being here with you, a friend who's just allowing me to...

just process stress...

is unusual, but good.

It's grounding me,

so I don't just feel like escaping stress with distraction.

That's a virgin experience for me.

Thanks.

Maybe once I get closure, I won't even have these random sex urges.

Maybe it'll be like a big giant wound closing.

Maybe that's why they call it closure.

Maybe deep down I don't even want closure. Anguish fuels me.

Even if it does,

maybe anguish just begets more anguish.

Maybe unhappiness is just a disease.

There you go.

We need to be heading out of here

if I'm gonna get us home in one piece.

Cool, but I'm paying.

You ate nothing. I get to treat.

I'ma hit the bathroom.

- Pook? - Yeah?

I gave him the toothbrush.

He sends his thanks.

How you doing?