The Music of What Happens

I don't know. I mean, it's not all beautifully harmonic, this world we find ourselves in. Clearly. There's shit music, and sometimes the melody goes away completely. There's silence and dissonant chord that cringe your ears. But the synchronicity of a perfectly created chorus? And the fact that you never know when one is coming? And that amazing feeling, the first time you hear a song and now it's going to be with you forever? I have to think that's worth everything.

The world will make you vulnerable. If you're acting like you're not, that's what you're doing. Acting

When trust is violated, it's like you're left with an empty piggy bank. Building trust again, she said, is like putting big, fat nickels into the slot. They clank against the bottom, and that sound is jarring. But in order to heal, you have to keep adding those nickels, and soon enough, there will be coins to cushion the nickel's fall and make the sound not so grating.

With my white friends, I’m always half Mexican. They never say I’m half Irish. Never say I’m half white. Like I’m tainted halfway from the standard. It’s like when I was a kid and I thought vanilla ice cream meant no flavor, like it was the base of all of the flavors. But vanilla is a bean. Like chocolate is a bean. Like cinnamon is a root. All roots and beans. All flavors. There is no base. No ice cream without a flavor.

Man, I could get used to this thing where I don’t think I’m a total piece of shit all the time.

Hit. The fucking. Bag. Jesus." I hit it. Pretty hard. My bicep wobbles at contact. "There ya go. Again." I hit it again. "Add a sound." I hit it again, silent. "Listen to me. Let the sound out, however it comes out." I hit it again and emit this high-pitched squeal that would make me laugh if it didn't carry with it my entire broken heart. And Max doesn't laugh either.

He's a good looking guy, no question. All bluster and confidence while I'm whatever the opposite of that is. Apologies and embarrassment. Awkwardness and sorrow. First dead in a zombie apocalypse

Good luck with that. The world will make you vulnerable, If you're acting like you're not, that's what you're doing. Acting

Mom always says all sorts of shit goes down in the world, and it’s up to me to decide how to take it. The one way you’re sure to be unhappy is to frown your way through life, she says, and she’s right. Always look for the bright, vibrant color through the darkness. It’s always there, but sometimes hard to see.

I wish I could show him my heart. That’s dangerous, though. You show it and people laugh. Nothing is worse than people laughing at your open heart, which is why I think guys don’t do that so much. Which is why I can’t believe Jordan trusted me enough to show me that.

It's funny because it's true, and also it's the kind of humor that makes you think.

That never even occurred to me, that he had feelings.

He stands and he lifts me up by my shoulders, and he hugs me tight. “I'm sorry, dude.” Zay-Rod joins our little huddle. It is, sex included, the most intimate moment of my life. They hold me tight, and I just close my eyes and breathe, thinking how glad I am they're my buddies, and wondering why I was ever afraid to tell them

I don’t know. I mean, it’s not all beautifully harmonic, this world we find ourselves in. Clearly. There’s shit music, and sometimes the melody goes away completely. There’s silence and dissonant chords that cringe your ears. But the synchronicity of a perfectly created chorus? And the fact that you never know when one is coming? And that amazing feeling, the first time you hear a song and you know it’s going to be with you forever? I have to think that’s worth everything.

I think about the half notes of dissonance, between what I hear and what someone else hears, and those moments where the world is so cold, and when someone reaches their hand out to you. In those symphonic, connected moments where another soul joins you and feels what you feel, and you can breathe again. Like right now.

I believe in yogurt because it’s creamy and a good use of milk that would otherwise go sour. Think about it: Where does all the sour milk go? That goes for people too. Not that we ferment, though I guess we do lactate, but everyone has skills and desires that go unused and unmet, and they sour. How can we make yogurt of these soured attributes? How do we make something delicious, how do we salvage them? I was like, dude, how in the world did you manage to bring human lactation into your oral report? If I ever said anything half that creative, half that unusual, my best friends would divorce my ass. How can a guy be so comfortable with being weird?

Just smile, Max. The paint cannot be stronger than a smile. But it is.

The world will make you vulnerable. If you’re acting like you’re not, that’s what you’re doing. Acting.

We drive, and I'm thinking about users and abusers, like my mom says. The time my dad swung me around by my feet and I got hurt, and how he told me to man up. Who came up with that? Who came up with all those rules and ideas about how a guy's gotta be?

And I think it's thanks to Jordan. I would never have done any of this if I hadn't met him, and if he hadn't showed me how to be real and serious with another guy.