CHAPTER 39

So, I'm not a complete clown.

I may be browsing the Fruit and Nut Market in a ten thousand dollar tuxedo and feeling like I could literally rule the universe, but I still know to call my fucking therapist and let her know that a) I'm still alive, b) I don't have plans to kill myself, and c) ‘I'm fine, Laura, I'll let Dr. Emily know as soon as something feels off.'

Anyway, while I browse through various Christmassy things on display, knowing I can spend my whole paycheck here today and it would totally be worth it, I consider all the ways the world would be different if I was the president of, well, the world. Maybe there's a prophecy somewhere but no one has found it yet, and it says that there's someone (me) who will be born and who'll be the answer to every sorrow and pain experienced in the world.

Firstly, I would end world hunger in a month. Every kid on the planet would get a good education. And I'm not talking about the crap we learned at school. I'dMakeSureEveryKidLearnedAboutTheThingsThatMatter: mental illnesses would be at the top of my list because imagine if everyone understood how trauma or chemical imbalances in the brain affect people's normalness?

"Mr? Uh, sir? Are you gonna buy that?"

I turn my eyes in the direction of the voice and whatever he's talking about because yes, I'm going to buy it.

I glance down at my hand. Oh. It's a figurine of Jesus and Mary in the stable. Where the fuck is Joseph?

"It's twenty dollars," the salesperson says. The salesperson is a skinny, red-headed boy with chapped lips like mine and freckles (also like mine). Maybe we're twins. We were separated at birth and the whole reason I fell down this manic blackhole was so I could be out here today to find him. The universe made it work out this way. Maybe I should start meditating. I should show more gratitude for the way things work out in my life. No. Meditation just gives me more anxiety.

"HowManyDoYouHave?" I ask my long-lost twin.

"We have ten left. They're selling fast. Y' know, with Christmas around the corner and all."

"GiveMeAllTenAndWhat'sYourName?"

"Uh, Leonard. And . . . all ten?"

"Yeah, Leonard." Has no one ever bought ten nativity figurines from my brother? "I didn't come all this way to spend twenty measly dollars."

He grins. "Oh, okay, then."

"And hey, do you have any chapstick?" And by that, I mean, do you have about ten minutes for some sex around the corner, where I found a quiet alley on my way in here? And before everyone loses their fucking mind, I fucking know he's not my long-lost twin brother. I was only considering a hypothetical situation a minute ago.

Jesus. My head hurts with all this noise. I wish my brain would just stop fuckin' talking. ShutTheFuckUp, I tell myself silently.

"No, sorry. We don't sell ChapStick."

"No. I mean, you. Do you have a chapstick on you that I could borrow? By the alley around the corner?"

I don't know why he looks so shocked. Like I was asking him if he had a condom, we could use to fuck in the alley cos I was fresh out.

Oh.

Fuck.

"Uh, look," he says, looking around nervously. "I'm down for anything and you're pretty hot, but like, I have a girlfriend? We're not that serious, though. I mean—" he gives my suit a once-over — "I mean, if you're serious . . .?" He casts his eyes to the left, in the direction of the alley.

My brain groans. And even though my face is red with shame, I continue to give him my most seductive smile. How can I describe it? It's like all the important parts of my anatomy are currently disconnected from each other – my facial muscles work independently of my brain, which works independently of my brand-new erection.

Jesus Christ. Who allowed me to be born?

I don't know where the strength to save us both from this humiliating experience comes from. Maybe it's the flash of Hayden's peace lily exploding inside my head. I'm sure he hasn't watered it in months, even though I noticed it was quite healthy just yesterday. But I mean, imagine what could happen in twenty-four hours. I need to get going. I'll just go to Hayden's house, water the plant, and I"ll be back immediately after.

"Yeah, sure," Leonard tells me, handing me back my card, which I don't remember giving him.

I blink.

"Yeah. I mean, you gotta take care of your plants," he says, handing me my bag of ten nativity figurines.

I nod mutely, understanding on some level that I spoke all those words out loud but, fuck the universe, I don't remember, even if it happened literally four seconds ago.

I rush through the market, stopping to buy seven advent calendars. Then I return one – because seven is an odd number and who buys an uneven number of anything. I demand my money back for the extra one, and when they refuse, I threaten to take a piss right there next to the sign that said NO RETURNS NO REFUNDS. The sales assistant tells me I'm ten thousand dollars' worth of crazy in that suit and I tell him maybe he's the one who's bipolar, and then I stuff my six advent calendars into my bag and laugh when he dumps my refund into my waiting palm.

When I get home, which I hadn't planned on doing because I was afraid Hayden would still be there, I unpack my Christmas supplies, and then I order a pizza. My card declines so I try again. When it declines again, I tell my card to fuck off cos I don't need it anyway, and I put a chicken in the oven. I don't see any cook directly from frozen instructions or if any spices need to be rubbed into it, but I'm sure it's fine. And, fuck, did I pay the rent this month? Yes. Yes, I did. But . . . did I pay all of it? Ah, fuck it for now.

Then, I clean, because I need to decorate the apartment for Christmas. The whole apartment needs to be decorated. And cleaned.

So much work to do. And more importantly, so much to celebrate. I didn't cheat on Hayden.

I mean, I don't know if we're together together. We're just fucking, right? We don' belong to each other. I'm not his. That was all just stupid sex talk that time.

If I wasn't manic I might think I'm actually in love with him but I am manic and so I can't be trusted to think I'm in love with him this very second and I'll test out the theory when I'm not manic but for now I am manic and my brain won't stop buzzing and the words won't stop pouring into my head from god-knows-where and everything is moving too fast and my skin is crawling and I just want to crawl out of my fucking skin but if my fidelity isn't a reason to celebrate then I don't know what is.

I hope the peace lily is okay.