I Figured I Would Shoot

Then I Realize What It Is. It's Him. Something About Him Makes Me Feel Like I Am About To Fall. Or Turn To Liquid. Or Burst Into Flames.

When I Look At Him, I Don't See The Cowardly Young Man Who Sold Me Out To Jeanine Matthews, And I Don't Hear The Excuses He Gave Afterward. When I Look At Him, I See The Boy Who Held My Hand In The Hospital When Our Mother Broke Her Wrist And Told Me It Would Be All Right. I See The Brother Who Told Me To Make My Own Choices, The Night Before The Choosing Ceremony. I Think Of All The Remarkable Things He Is--smart And Enthusiastic And Observant, Quiet And Earnest And Kind.

People, Even Genetically Damaged People, Make Choices. That’s What Matters.’

I Take A Deep Breath. I'm Not Sure Where That Swell Of Desperation Came From, But Know That I've Acknowledge It, It's Impossible To Ignore, Like A Living Thing Has Awakened From A Long Sleep Inside Me. It Writhes In My Stomach And Throat. I Need To Leave. I Need The Truth.

Or You Can Stay Frigid," Says Will, His Green Eyes Glinting With Mischief. "you Know. If You Want." Christina Throws A Roll At Him. He Catches It And Bites It. "don't Be Mean To Her," She Says. "frigidity Is In Her Nature. Sort Of Like Being A Know-it-all Is In Yours." "i Am Not Frigid!" I Exclaim. "don't Worry About It," Says Will. It's Endearing. Look You're All Red.