I Will Be My Undoing If I

Uriah Drops His Tray Next To Me. It Is Loaded With Beef Stew And Chocolate Cake. I Stare At The Cake Pile. “there Was Cake?” I Say, Looking At My Own Plate, Which Is More Sensibly Stocked Than Uriah’s. “yeah, Someone Just Brought It Out. Found A Couple Boxes Of The Mix In The Back And Baked It,” He Says. “you Can Have A Few Bites Of Mine.” “a Few Bites? So You’re Planning On Eating That Mountain Of Cake By Yourself?” “yes.” He Looks Confused. “why?” “never Mind.

I Laugh, Mirthless, A Mad Laugh. I Savor The Scowl On Her Face, The Hate In Her Eyes. She Was Like A Machine; She Was Cold And Emotionless, Bound By Logic Alone. And I Broke Her.

Since I Was Young, I Have Always Known This: Life Damages Us, Every One. We Can’t Escape That Damage. But Now, I Am Also Learning This: We Can Be Mended. We Mend Each Other.

I Think About Pressing Myself Against Him, But I Can't, Because All Our Secrets Would Keep A Space Between Us.

I Look Out The Window Again, Taking Slow, Deep Breaths Into A Body Too Tense To Move. And As I Stare Out At The Land, I Think That This, If Nothing Else, Is Compelling Evidence For My Parents’ God, That Our World Is So Massive That It Is Completely Out Of Our Control, That We Cannot Possibly Be As Large As We Feel. -tris Prior