he doesn’t know i’m writing about him because he types and when he types he doesn’t think of anyone but his professor or maybe he thinks of her with the short brown hair but certainly not me because i’m mousy and shy and squeak i pick the crumbs off my desk and think about him but not in that way because we are friends and mice only fear so it’s not like i’m longing in fact i am glad like a lost child in belgium where everyone hands you chocolate and lederhosen
she seems smiley and nice like a cockroach living inside a poodle i mean a vase of dandelions i mean a friendship bracelet wrapped around his wrist that jingles and occasionally dogs wear matching bracelets but i’m sure it’s not sexual or anything because people don’t like to bang dogs once i heard a story about a man who drunkenly hurt a small person to death and he didn’t even go to jail and he probably laughed and cried while i ate popcorn during top chef
I hate him.
when he messages me on facebook confusing yale and chicago i laugh because i know he’s an international chess grandmaster and he graduated the physics department with job offers and vacation time and studied the higgs boson which reminds me that we’re small and electric spreading outward and he sees everything from behind his glasses i smile when he lols
gideon means destroyer he emailed his ex’s boyfriend and then the university of pennsylvania restraining-ordered him now he dates the long-faced beautiful girl and maybe sings the jewish folk songs at summer camps and makes out with other counselors across the lake or maybe he’s still a nice jewish boy who just wants to eat cupcakes and play in snow
i traveled back in time to stop a train from hitting the father and then i traveled farther to take a bullet and farther to switch poison with kool aid but when i returned to the present a man loaded his gun and i cried and hands wrapped around my throat and i turned into a cat and then an octopus and a butterfly but the hands turned and turned me green then blue and purple
he sang me a ukrainian folk song and thrust a tarantula into my hand and hugged me to the earth during a wedding and laughed when i summarized that anime about magical girls who turn into witches and stuff their souls into gems and maybe he didn’t abandon her in poland after all
Rebecca Kaplan is a student of Rhetoric at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She has been published in The Daily Palette and Montage. She is extremely fond of video games and usually plays support but lately DPS.