Huge differences between me and Steve: he has never parted his hair any way but the middle. I hate this about him. Steve only eats medium-rare beef. There is something so perfect about that. I feel Steve is hiding something terrible at his core. I imagine him tucking me into bed on a windy night, kissing me on the forehead, closing the door, only to shriek and bleat through the walls. You fucker, you can’t possibly do this to me! I have watched Steve around the office and the gym. Eating a thin slice of communal carrot cake. Laughing so tender at all the jokes. Did you see the Academy Awards, Steve? Jen says you watch them every year. At the rowing machine, Steve looks like a murderer. Steve could pick up a stray cat by the tail and sling it at the wall. Steve has never been seen in public with a child. Steve has a wood-panelled television. It is brown, and therefore excellent. Steve doesn’t watch sitcoms. He likes artful programmes. He likes to sit down and think about it. Steve could never check a pay phone return slot for an extra quarter. He wants to leave it for the next guy. Jen thinks Steve is so kind. Jen once talked to him about donating to a special charity and Steve needed a hug after. Steve gets livid when he reads what’s going on overseas. Steve is a real news junkie. He never goes out with the rest of us on Fridays. Steve’s a private guy, Jen says. Steve has never bet on the Knicks. Steve doesn’t gamble at all. Steve hasn’t ever opened the door for me or offered me a hand. Steve won’t make eye contact with me when I ask him about his day. Steve thinks about my problems seldom. I think Steve doesn’t want me to meet his friends. Steve grows basil on his kitchen windowsill. Steve made the best pasta one day, Jen said. It was just simple ingredients, like magic. Steve came from good stock. Steve was so smart as a kid. Steve was the shortstop on his peewee softball team. He loved it when they would eat orange slices and blue Gatorade. You knew that about Steve, right?, Jen always says. Steve’s brother is in politics. He just wants to stop all this hateful rhetoric. Steve thinks it’s an admirable cause. Steve has never had to take a single dose of medication once. Not even when he got his wisdom teeth out; he felt fine after. Steve only eats fruit-and-nut yogurt for breakfast. I asked Steve if he ever had a breakfast burrito, Jen said, and he didn’t even know what they were. Steve doesn’t know what it’s like to lose everything you’ve ever wanted in a fit of mania. Steve has never lost control in a public place and had to go to the hospital. Steve made it through university without any demerits. Steve doesn’t know anyone who has been arrested. None of Steve’s friends died of drug overdoses. Steve won’t even touch coffee anymore. When Steve and Jen got married, everyone said how they were made for each other. Steve goes fishing. Steve’s favourite trophies from his childhood are for participation. Steve is a team player. Steve drives automatic transmission. Steve has never had to do a personality test, but if he did, he would pass it.
Jen is my best friend. Jen eats a different salad every day. She has an app that randomizes ingredients for her so she can try them all. Jen is always thinking of new things to write on birthday cards. Every email Jen sends has a genuine smiley face at the end. Jen wears bright colours, and they look so good on her. I’ve never seen Jen in black. Even if she had to go to a funeral, Jen would look like an angel. Steve says Jen has the cutest laugh. Jen doesn’t sound like a goat. Jen covers her mouth with her hand, but she doesn’t need to. Jen has perfect teeth. After Steve met Jen’s parents, he said that Jen’s dad gave him a hug and called him “son.” Jen was a cheerleader and a mathlete. Jen doesn’t have any allergies. On the rare chance Jen sneezes, she always says: Excuse me please, exactly like that. Jen always waters my cubicle plants when I’m sick. Jen doesn’t even ask questions about all the time I miss. Jen says, It’s so good to see you, and means it. Jen bought Steve concert tickets for his birthday and they got on the jumbotron. I always think of Jen in a field of sunflowers. Jen touches my hand sometimes when she’s saying how sweet I am. Nobody thinks of other people the way Jen does, Steve says. I’ve never seen Jen sad-cry. Jen happy-cries at the end of romantic comedies. Jen likes it when the girl ends up with the guy. Jen doesn’t know what it is to be in a domestic situation. Jen didn’t lose her virginity to someone she didn’t like. Jen knows how to say no and have people listen. Jen was cognisant the whole time. Jen didn’t wake up covered in sick and have to look for her clothes and get out without waking anyone. Jen has never begged a cab driver for a ride. Jen didn’t have to ask her roommate to cover for her. Jen didn’t have to go to the clinic alone. If I knew Jen at that time, I know she would have gone with me. Jen is empathetic and feels my pain too, she says. Jen looks at my life and tells me how well I’m doing. Jen is proud of me.
I’m not ugly or unwanted.
I don’t have anything to be sad about, if I’m being candid.
I am being candid.
My time is coming.
