otherside

we live on the cusp of death

"Formula for dealing with grief for yourself or to bestow unto those grieving (especially when they don't ask):

Step 1: convince yourself that what has happened did so for a reason. There is always an answer, always a purpose, even if you never come to find out the why. Take comfort in the justification of cosmic or godly mystery, whichever applies best to the most commonly imposed belief system.

Step 2: get out of bed. No matter how much you don't want to. Take care of obligations. Smile for the camera. Pretend you have your shit together. If you fake it long and hard enough it'll eventually be real or least feel real.

Step 3: when it starts to hurt again, when you remember how unfair or stupid or awful this all is, repeat step 1.

Step 4: only remember the good memories, because that will make it hurt less. Accept that it's okay that there will never again be more of them.

Step 5: repeat step 1.

Step 6: give it time. The pain will fade eventually, maybe, no one really knows for sure. Either way, you'll never be the same again.

Step 7: repeat all the steps, especially 1.

Step 8: exist until you don't anymore. "

The pad of index finger pressed to lips for a transfer kiss, set to Martin Rojas' cheek. The same finger she'd used to kiss John similarly when he lay in his casket. The same one she'd someday set to Brandon's cold, stiff skin. Any day now. The curse that had claimed her first love and now her father wouldn't hesitate when a likely bullet punctured through the meat of vital organs. A thought only shared once and quickly diminished by a mother's reassuring lips to forehead. Sips from a purse flask snuck in between receiving what felt like never ending condolences from family and friends and strangers alike. The consensus seemed to be that men felt indebted to her father and women would never forget how lovely he always made them feel. Rows upon rows of black. White calla lilies like bursts of plain confetti. A muddied brown of pews meant for a church. All swirled into a colorless landscape of misery and regret. This is what a human life culminated to. A room full of people for a day or two. Grateful Brandon had obliged her request not to go, Nina didn't want him to see her break down.

No. That wasn't it. Nina didn't want to feel him coddling her, chasing after every time she needed to step out to smoke or drink. Asking if she was alright a million times over. Trying to hold onto her, contain her, because he didn't know how to be when he couldn't take charge and fix things. There were already enough men in her family trying to do that today. The only other woman that had loved the wild animal that was Martin as she had knew better than to ask or fuss. Hand squeezed in silence once she'd given the eulogy. Fingers tugged at the collar of black dress like it'd come to life and begun to snake further up her neck, Marinina leaned in to whisper to her mother, "I have to go, I'm suffocating."


Tio V I just got off the phone with Ant want can I do? Nothing. There's nothing anyone can do aside from what I'm doing which is waiting on hold for hours on end and then getting transferred a million fucking times. How the fuck do you lose a corpse on a plane? It's the god damn one that doesn't look like a fucking suit case. I should've just flown to Spain with him. Hey kid listen there's nothing you could've done just keep trying they're gonna find him I'm serious though if there's anything your Tio Vito can do let me know. Me and your aunt we're here for you. There is something you could do. The paperwork you wanted me to look over. I don't know what to do with it and it's haunting me from the corners of my apartment. Is there anyway you could take it? Keep it. I don't care. I don't want it. That was meant for you he wanted you to have it. Didn't he explain it when you spoke Vaguely. We didn't spend a lot of time on it. He wanted to know more about B and just talk. The deeds and checks are legitimate Nina You can't get in any trouble for them They're yours and no one can touch them But if you want me to take care of it I can. Nothing wrong with an uncle depositing money into his niece's account every month to make sure she stays on her feet Are you sure about this? You're square bring it next week when you come for dinner Thanks. No prob bob Call your mom ok she's been worried I will. Send		🙄 Baby 😘 I'm having a really hard time understanding this. You seriously just left me to "deal with my shit" because I don't want to talk about trivial shit? No, Nina. You don't want to talk about anything. Why do I have to? Why do I have to stay? Because I need you. You don't. Just because I don't in a way that you want me to doesn't mean that I don't. Because forcing me to sit in an empty home, alone like this is going to make it better. I don't really know what to say to you now either. Take care. What way do I want you to? Because you seem to have plenty of attention span and direct engagement in trivial bullshit that doesn't have to do with me. I don't ask you for a lot, but don't waste my time. I have no fucking idea. You didn't tell me there was an issue just decided to up and fucking leave. You literally made the decision as I'm trying to force myself to try talking to people again for some semblance of normalcy and engage better. Waste your time? Seriously? When you figure out what I want, be sure to let me know. No, it's alright. I'm done wasting your time. You sure? Yup. When you can use your words, we can revisit. I won't waste your time ever again. At least you paid attention to some part of that. Are you done? Are you? I've dropped this conversation multiple times and you keep going. You made your choice. We're done. Bye. You're right. I'll get my stuff and at least one dog in the morning. Send		JJ 🍄 Ey ma we still meeting up in manhattan? Yea you remember the stop? Word Just the oxy? Yea You sure? You haven't asked for these in a long time You back to playing drive by therapist? Nah cmon I'm just making sure my girl's doing alright we've know each other since diapers dude Yea yea I'm counting them so don't stiff Wow this faith I'll even toss in a little free sample of this china you gotta try I'm not trying to end up like John You have more self control Yea whatever. Just be there by 8:30 I need it before I have to sit at this desk all day Omw Send

I hate this fucking couch.

A thought born from nowhere as she lay bundled in a throw blanket she'd snagged on clearance last Christmas, tearing through the aisles of stores for gifts. Mostly for themselves and their new apartment. An apartment now empty and silent without the jangle of dog collars or Brandon's pacing steps. Now was a good time to wish the cats were more vocal and less likely to sleep through the day. Illuminated by the soft glow of the television, kept company by a woman pushing her early sixties trying to sell Nina crystal encrusted vases and one of a kind jewelry even her mother would deem tacky. The couch was comfortable and easy to fall asleep on, if only it's existence didn't grate nerves as she remembered all of the hunting they'd done for this specific one. The swatch from his old one saved. Framed on the wall. Eyes drifted over to the patch of dark material that tightened chest.

Maybe I should take another one.

Brown prescription bottle with someone else's name on it sat next to the little flyer Nina hadn't thought to throw away. An image of a planet out in space with the words "Where Will You Spend Eternity?" in big bold lettering seemed misleading for the religious content referencing a Catholic god and sway of the faith. She knew it wasn't where the ring now missing from her left hand had previously promised. Fucking asshole. Brows knit on the recall of the old woman who'd approached her with the pocket sized literature she herself was more than unlikely able to read clearly.

"Have you found God, dear?"
"Did you lose him? Maybe you should file a missing person's report."

Had she been looking for an actual person Nina might have been kinder. But the burden of loss, real and tangible in men she'd loved and once held in her very arms, was incomparable to an ideology missing from her own life or anyone else's. There was no room left to care about a stranger's feelings. Not now. The task at hand called for a full numbing of the agonizing, breath stealing ache. Her childhood best friend, her father, the internal panic of curse or karmic sting at her heels to steal away the love of her life only playing out in some self fulfilled fear with the click of the door behind Brandon. Belongings and canines gone.

We were supposed to grow old together.

Vow made and broken by John. And then Brandon. Eyes welled as the pain killers failed to cease the physical pang that bloomed behind sternum. White knuckles illuminated with the dig of nails curled into palms. The first sound made in days echoed through the walls as she let out a cry, desperate for oxygen in the trade off. Hands pressed over her face in shame, as if someone, anyone could see her. Maybe it was time to try the china white.