That's Just The Way The World Works

Saying It Outloud

"Heh... well-" I take the ornament from her and reach up to place it high on the tree. I then started my story: "Remember the sophomore year science field trip?"

"To Oscorp?" She asks.

"Yeah, I was bit by one of those radioactive spiders."

"Oh so you weren't making that up."

"Heh, no." I smile.

"Damn, of all years, Sophomore year??? What luck."

"Right?" I laugh, looking at her with big eyes before turning my attention back up at the tree, "Yeah, it was weird-"

"You stopped wearing glasses after that trip. I noticed."

"You notice everything." I joke, though it wasn't a lie. Sometimes I wish she wasn't so observant, "My vision cleared that night. I also started sticking to things and you know, ect..." I shrugged the details off, "I thought I could do something with this so I makeshifted my own-yes-onesie of sorts."

"Oh?"

"I'm no costume designer. I was mainly interested in how to make webs like a spider. So I started experimenting until I found the perfect chemical combination—made some web shooters and I was on my way.."

MJ put an ornament in the center of us, closing some of the distance, "Later, I-" I paused... I mean, it was no secret. I just felt uneasy saying it to MJ—not because I don't trust her but because the feeling I'm betraying Aunt May... It's fine, this was so long ago:, "noticed my aunt was having some problem with- money, and I really wanted to help her so I created a stage name for a wrestling match-"

MJ's eyes widened, "You WRESTLED? I can only imagine Sophomore you and what went through your mind-"

"I know I know- it was the first thing I thought of!"

As she laughed, embarrassment of my past decisions came over me. I try to play it off, "I guess you don't want the rest of the story-"

"Ooooh, c'mon, I'm teasing." She bumps my elbow and I can't help but roll my eyes with a smile. I look up at the tree as I put up another ornament, "so I became Spider-Man and did that wrestling match and got paid after it—for winning..." I trail off by accident as I recall how I felt back then... For being a sophomore who had only one friend—the attention and praise felt good. I wasn't going to tell MJ that-I can't tell MJ that—Maybe I am just doing this for attent- No, Jesus, shut up. I mean, yes, then, but not after—

"Peter?"

I look up, "Hm? Oh, sorry."

MJ furrows her eyebrows as she tries to figure out what had just happened.

"Well, um, word got around about this Spider-guy who can shoot webs and has stopped a car crash, you know... So this guy who was the host of some talk show invited me on to show off and give his audience a show... I did, and afterwards,backstage, the talk show host told me he'd pay me in cash and that I'd be a star." I say, sarcastically saying star. However, at fifteen years old, I saw it as killing two birds with one stone: getting the money for my aunt and the fame for my own self esteem and perhaps even narcissism... If I'd only known- "A man then ran by, pushing past me. A cop coming after and yelling at me to stop him but—I didn't."

I really didn't want to see MJ's reaction or an expression to what I had just said. I hadn't told anyone this. I just... still feel guilty. I should.

"The cop asks me why I didn't at least slow him down and you're not going to believe what I said..." was I really about to tell her—? "I just said that's not my problem."

Don't look at her don't look at her don't look at her

"Well, turns out that I was wrong." I laughed a little to ease the tension that began to build in my chest, I breathed and said softly, "that robber killed my Uncle Ben right after..."

... Will I never get over this? Why does it still make me feel bad? Maybe if it didn't I would be some sociopath—it's good I feel this way, I should feel this way... wow... I guess I'm still making up for it—Shit, I've paused for too long, "So now, I just... try to save everyone. It's the least I can do. But I'm fine—really." Smooth. "No-I mean, we don't need to dwell on it." I feel a nervous ting, "Sorry, you probably weren't expecting that."

I finally have the urge to look at her and just as I suspected, she was looking at me, nothing in her hands, just focused on me. Her expression was blank but not without care just... gauging her words.

"Really dampened the mood." I joked with a small laugh as I looked away.

She seemed to skip over my comments as she said, "So that's why you put so much pressure on yourself... You never want to mess up again."

I'm put off guard by her open analysis, almost regretting saying anything at all, "heh, Who wants to mess up?" I ask, brushing off her comment.

"I mean, yes, you're right but... Not everyone is obsessed with not-"

I feel myself get defensive, "I'm not obsessed-"

"Ok, ok..." She pauses, "I'm just saying that you're human... You're allowed to mess up."

I wish I believed her.

Oh just shut up.

She just doesn't get it... This is my responsibility... Everyone is counting on me not to mess up...

Can I stop thinking please?