From the Other Side of My Bed

15. Triggers

I enjoy my cigarette as the wind blows in the car and freezes both of us as we drive toward the ihop on rio salado. Jerome is wearing this ball cap with the logo of coors light on it and just wearing a raggedy old red sweater he had forever, but he looks so comfortable that I don't comment on it. Looking at him this way makes me feel comfort as well.
He's my usual.
He's my constant.
He's my always.
"Are you gonna be able to eat?" he asks without looking at me.
"Oh, fuck off. I'm getting a tall hot chocolate no matter if I force myself to drink it."
"I meant food, not liquids. Loser."
"Kiss my ass, bitch."
"When?"
I slap his arm and he returns the hit. We both laugh and pull up to the ihop.
We roll our eyes to see how busy it is.
"Hopefully we get a booth."
"We will."
And we do, for some reason, it was actually semi empty, i guess it was the employees cars outside. They take us to our table quickly and I order a hot chocolate with foam on it, and Jerome just asks for a plain coffee. When we sit down and we get our menus, Jerome stays staring at me in his usual loving way. He even smiles as I keep biting my nails and looking through the menu. I know he's staring but I ignore him until I get uncomfortable and stare back at him.
"What, bitch? Do I look funny or what?"
"You just look different." I look down and feel self conscious immediately. "Well, people change."
"But you?"
"Don't give me this peptalk, I already have enough with kelly."
"Talking about her, how's therapy?" I shrug.
"I haven't been able to reach her. I was with her on wednesday, but she was having difficulty breathing which was weird so i told her we should reschedule for another time and since then, nothing."
"That's not good."
"I know. How's your mom?"
"Tu suegra?" I roll my eyes. He laughs, big time. "Mom is good, just working and worried about me getting sick with covid."
"Who doesn't?"
"I know."
"I hope none of us get sick."
"I don't know, dude. That's some situation we have in our hands and-" he goes on and on about the pandemic which i just mentally checked out from.
The pandemic has been one of the most awful things that's ever happened to all of us.
To talk about it is just stupid at this point. I want to hear something happy, something refreshing, feel alive, feel things i used to feel..
And then I immediately remember ares.
"Anyways," I cut him off after his prolonged rant about covid. "I met someone,"
"It'll pass."
I'm thrown off by this, and even hurt by it.
"Why can't you be fucking happy for me, bro? Every bitch you fucking, every meaningless whore and all, i root for her to be somebody for you. And you? You just hate on me for no-"
And then I just stay quiet.
We both know why he's hating.
I closed my eyes and sighed. "All I'm saying is, I want for once to be happy."
"We both want that."
"Then let me talk about it."
"I'm good." and he focuses on the menu.
I hate myself for not being able to like him more than just a best friend. I don't like Jerome, I love him. With all my heart, but as a friend. As my brother, as my family.
Only he knows of me, he was the second person who saw me, really saw me, apart from all the layers that make this facade. He looks at me and it's like we have known each other since birth.
And even though I never had put much interest in finding out if there could be more, I know it wouldn't work in the end.

We are too different.
Our ideals are completely not the same.

He's your typical wannabe country boy, who loves ball caps and flannels, who loves to cultivate in his garden while country music is blasting from afar, who loves his mexican culture and his dream is to own land, raise animals, be self sufficient in that manner and create a ranch in the middle of the desert and wants a big family with many kids.

I'm your typical wannabe rockstar, the dream city girl vibes who's clothing changes to fancy to punk real quick depending on her mood, who loves to drink wine and reads out loud verses of my favorite poets, who loves party and the dancing, has reckless behavior and does drugs while bad bunny plays in the background as a needle goes into my arm and juices alter my mind while dreaming of living in new york one day and having a best seller on shelves.