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you could love this boy with all your heart

1.

There are two different people, each living their own lives in a way that does not

resemble life at all. One of them breathes in & above his dimension, in a plane of existence

that does not know his kindness & resembles everything unnatural, everything that he fears

he will be revealed as one day, the theatrical experience & the curtain falling & the cruelty of gravity itself

unravelling him at the wrists —

here, the other breathes out. Harmony. But not.

Nothing about this is harmonious. Oh, how you crave something different --

how you crave harmony, with him, and O, how you would do anything

to slip under the covers of his body and be embraced, to wrap yourself around

the concept of love & embody it, the Ultimate

Representation

of his capability to heal, of finally slaying

the zombified monster that lives underneath his childhood bed

that lives underneath his mind

right where you’ve curled up.

You want to be the motivating force moving

this man like a cradle towards the light, blue light, healing blue light

surrounding his body, you surrounding his body, you, you, you.

You want to represent something good for this man,

to be chewed up, O, to be chewed up, to be invited in, to be wanted. He wants

to be wanted by the wrong people. You want to be wanted by the one person

who will never want you back & both people involved in this situation are floating above

their own planets. This man is a planet to you, a spinning sphere

that is so alive it makes a being of your caliber

fall to a dizzying unbearable

prayer-position. The God he prays to is not the God you pray to. The God

you are begging to be loved by is found in this man’s unrelenting frame & you still

cannot choose.

You miss home. You want to go home. You want to view him as a transformed place of rest,

your new shining place of residence,

your sacred altar where you’d place offerings and sacrifices at his knees

if you knew he’d accept them. And even under the weight

of his hatred that would suffocate you if you only had

a life that could end, a version of you that could be extinguished—

You still cannot choose a side.

2.

Before your tarnish, Larry would’ve called the aurora borealis beautiful. The night

sky, lit up by a dancing color that seeped into his cells in the Right Way, the night sky

holding his stability in sage and ferns, vast drowning blues, always in the Right Way—

always a calming light, never a reminder. Before your presence, Larry craved light, but what

happens now? What happens when light is no longer something to walk into?

The light, of course, will always win this fight, and the fight, of course,

will always dictate both bodies, and this is a cycle that you wish

you weren’t so familiar with, these are rhymes

that just cannot be swallowed so here we are, here we are being written,

here we are sparring and wrestling

with the Bad Parts of ourselves, the way you bled into him

like he is the one last thing in the universe that makes sense, that

can complete you and be your ultimate valiant purpose, but this doesn’t

mean anything when he isn’t willing, and he will never

be willing, and he will never stop

wanting to banish you, to return to the illusion

of false imagery & false deities so here you are, here you are being

tortured, his mind torturous and your love

tortuous and you want to touch him

in a way that doesn’t remind him of himself. These two people, these two souls, like

northern lights blurring into one another. In the skies for humanity to gaze upon, to create

memories in minds that will never be joined. They will never know what it is like, to love someone

this

much. In this way. To be this close.

Underneath the light of you, two human beings hold hands for the first time. You will never

know this feeling, and you’re okay with that, as long as

he eventually finds a way to pull himself out of

the spaces between their fingers.

3.

You are [REDACTED]. You know that you are this, forbidden, but to Larry you are

the Negative Spirit, and you could be so beautiful, you know

that the spark of you could create a spark within him

if he was not afraid of fire, and by now you have

accepted that this, like fire, is something that you cannot escape,

something you do not want to escape. Escape is supposed to mean

relief, not torture. You are tortured when you are with him and

you are tortured when you are apart from him, and torture, to you,

is a recurring theme in this decaying book, a constant in this old,

fumbling, body that has a similar decay to the story

of you — the spine of the book torn, the cover of the book

tattered. This is not a very good story. You said it was confusing,

not that it was tragic. No one wants a story to be tragic. Not even Larry.

No, Larry wants a story that is too good to be true, a story that is

pristine & goes on for pages and pages to the point that the ending

is almost unreachable. Intangible. The only logical ending to his story,

before you attached yourself to his soul, became familiar with it

like Larry’s soul is the most recognizable thing

you have ever laid eyes upon,

is the ending that no one wants,

a cliffhanger that is never resolved. That means: the ending that his story

would’ve had in the world where he goes back home

is an unsavory ending, and cannot be parsed or reconciled with.

You saved him from that ending. You have saved Larry Trainor

from himself.

He doesn’t see it that way. He hates you for it.

Your name is . Your name is! Your name

is [DATA EXPUNGED], and you are coming to terms with the fact

that regardless of what your name is, your name

is a name that Larry Trainor will never utter, your name

is a name that will never rest inside of his mouth, his mouth pink like

the force of humanity that should never be uncovered, his mouth like

gates to Heaven, like the knowledge that you could find salvation

if you knew how to tell him that you love him, and you love him,

you love him so much that you understand God now, and if

the stories they told him are true you would walk into hellfire

and burn for him, instead of him, because this is a burning love, this is a love

that cannot ever be put out & will decimate bodies, forests,

planets.

They aren’t true, of course. Larry Trainor,

despite his flaws, despite the torture he causes,

despite every bad, monstrous thing that has ever formed

inside of him,

is the most beautiful earthly phenomenon

that you have ever laid eyes upon, the only thing

that you want now, and the only thing that can be possessed

without being possessed.

You want to talk to him. You want to talk

to him and this is a desire that rings at an intensity

nothing in any dimension could ever match. He would never believe you.

5.

Your name is

and you are beginning to forget your own name.

This is a very logical consequence of not hearing it spoken

for sixty years.

Let’s say that you’re not the Spirit. Let’s say that instead, you are the personification of

being lost, and you are the personification of being lost, in this reality, but

it is the only aspect of you now, your essence was once so intricate,

once so complex, but now you are Lost, and Lost shakes your hand and says

you don’t have to be me. You can be Larry, if you want, or you can be the Negative Spirit, his guardian,

or you can try to diminish the difference between the two concepts. The world

is yours, baby, the world can be anything you want it to be, but you simply

want it to be Larry.

Lost looks exactly like you except for the fact

that the unfillable hole you feel in your chest

is mirrored on its body. No energy there. Just void.

You can’t even see through it.

6.

You are resting inside of Larry Trainor’s body, and Larry Trainor’s body

is shaking hands with a woman who calls herself Valentina Vostok, and

your body, the body that you almost forgot you had, the body that isn’t yours

anymore, lights up when it recognizes its own kind within her.

You aren’t alone. Someone else, someone you could have

known, once upon a time,

back home,

is here too. It almost

makes hope seem like something you’re capable of grasping. But she

is in love, and Valentina is in love, and maybe you’re in love,

but it’s not the same. You will never know if

it can be the same.

Valentina tells Larry about infinite harmony

as if she’s a missionary. Door to door. Let me tell you

about how love can change your life. Let me tell you

about how you can fix yourself by believing

in something greater than separation. There is only unity. There is only

collaboration. There is only

theSpiritandLarry, now, instead of Larry (and the Negative Spirit), there is only something

that you will never have, an outlook that you have embraced and he

has buried.

7.

His first attempt at communicating with you

is not rooted in acceptance, nor is it glazed

with vulnerability. He wants to stomp you out,

to clean you off of the walls. He wants what

he will never be able to obtain, and you want

what you will never be able to obtain, but at least

you are realistic about it.

We need some ground rules. Yes, you think,

yes, we do. You need a warm place that will allow

you to show him the ultimate truth — that he is good, that he is

capable of it, that bad men don’t want to atone,

but he doesn’t want to hear it, he never

wants to hear it. The ground rules he desires

won’t fix anything.

He needs you. You need him. He needs you. You need him. He

still cannot figure it out.

8.

You are ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. This is your first time.

Touching his body, that is. You

have never been able to. You don’t want to ruin him. You have

already ruined him. You are only capable of ruining, and this

is what you’re doing now, as you wrap the bandages

around his shorn body without looking, as you

haul the clothes that he has been wearing for sixty years

back onto his elegance, and you think to yourself, because you only have

yourself,

I can do anything now, I can make this work,

we can talk, we can clear the clouds away.

He does not want to talk, he does not

want to hear you.

You put him on a ceiling rafter. You do not touch his body ever again.

9.

You are alone. Larry Trainor, who you live inside of, who

you would die for, is trying to die for you. This is not how things are supposed to go.

This isn’t how the plot is supposed to unfold. This isn’t what you want anymore.

He holds his arm up to stop you, to bar you from saving him, and you are so

close to him, and there is blood flowering out of his mouth, staining his bandages like

you stained him sixty years ago. You wanted this at one point, you did. You truly did,

at one point, you wanted to go home. They miss you. They miss you. We all

miss you.

You should go. You should be happy. You should do so many things, such as:

leave him to die, he’s spent the last six decades

clawing at you, trying to wash you away. You should not want

to save him. He does not want you to save him.

But as you float over the manor, as you think

about a world without Larry Trainor, you realize

what Larry had realized underneath that sunset—

you have a connection to him, and this connection has tainted you,

without this connection you will never feel whole again, without him

to crawl back inside of your emotions will torture you, endless torture, always

torture, and

you could not live a true, unburdened life if you let this man—

this man who you revolve around celestial—

die. You cannot let him die.

You know what you have to do.

You’re in his room again. You’re always in this room. His body

is a different room, an omnipresent room, a room

that you have nested in & labelled as home, now,

the room of his body like the roof of a house,

and Flex Mentallo is in the manor, and the only thing

that he can remember is you. It would be flattering if it

was not marinated in horror.

You want to show your love, but Flex needs you,

they all need you, you’re the only one with the key

that can unlock him, so you grasp Larry’s face

and try not to think about a world in which the circumstances

of you grasping his face

are different & contrast this. Maybe, in this world

that you cannot think about, that you’re thinking about

anyway, this touch is born out of a desire to progress.

To embody the connection

he had been talking about so recently, so far in history’s past.

11.

Larry visits John in fantasy, Larry visits John

in night terrors, Larry visits John

in reality. Erie. Post-it notes on walls

that no longer confine either of them. The walls of Larry

are separating, as he holds John’s hands, as he

carries John out to the porch

in a position similar to the way you carried Larry

when you put him on the ceiling, when you saw him

in his entirety for the first and last time. You love each

word that comes out of Larry’s mouth and you love them

before they even form in his mind. God, you love him. O, how

your love for him is like the love everyone says

is reserved for God and God only. He talks about connection

and thinks about connection and you allow yourself

to think that the planet Venus and its strong association

is a place you will visit within this life. This beautiful, new

life.

12.

Niles Caulder is a bad, bad man,

and Larry Trainor thinks he is a bad, bad man,

but the crimes are not on the same level. Larry, the ultimate

holder of passion. Larry, who loved so much

that he didn’t know how to keep it inside of him.

Larry, whose love terrified him, whose love

was hidden behind doors and in rooms

that he can never return to.

Larry, whose love

is both unlike and close to your love.

Your love is open. Larry’s was not.

Larry was afraid. You are not.

You are afraid, but for different reasons.

You are afraid because you are the Negative Spirit, and

the Negative Spirit

is the worst possible thing that someone who loves Larry can be.

Larry and Rita move to a small,

secluded, one-bedroom home. It doesn’t matter.

Niles Caulder is the reason that you have Larry,

the reason that Larry has you. You want to thank him,

you want to rip him apart with the monstrous claws

that we all know you have & are just waiting to expose.

Once you let your claws out of the tower, they can never be

retracted. Choose wisely.

13.

This time around, Larry enters your body, and this time around,

Larry loves you, and this time around, these concepts are palpable,

are possibilities that can exist in the future’s endless running fragmented

stream.

Let’s say that you are extracted from his body. Let’s say

that he feels it. Senses it, like a lost limb, and he does,

he watches you reach out for him, reaching restrained

for Larry’s mercy, to be reunited, and he pities you, he does.

He could leave you here, in the Ant Farm. He could abandon you.

He has every right

to abandon you. He can now.

Instead he gazes at you in wonder. Like you are the northern lights, but

in the right way this time, like you could be something beautiful,

like you light a similar spark inside of him.

It elicits an ache that feels like

bones growing inside of you with one sole purpose:

to stab themselves through you, to turn you human,

to make you know a reciprocated love. But you have learned

from your time with Larry, you know that love

is always ephemeral.

Larry goes out to the lake and sets you free, knowing

you’ll come back to him, you’ll always come back.

He has a confidence in you now

that is almost terrifying. You cannot live up to it.

15.

You imagined, at some point, that this would end. Actually, you didn’t. There was no way

to predict this.

Larry loves himself now. He doesn’t. It’s

more like this: Larry has found a way

to accept the part of himself that no one from his past

ever could. Larry is whole. Larry has found a way

to say the words out loud. You can never say the words

out loud.

He’s gay. This is something to be celebrated. This gets

the Bureau of Normalcy called. Despite everything, he still needs you.

He still knows that you will save him. He still depends

on your love for him, and there are no words in any language,

including the language you were created to speak, the one you know

almost as well as you know him,

that can accurately describe how much you love this one

human man, whose flaws are written on his skin,

and you want to be written on his skin, you want to feel his love, but not like this.

You save him anyway, you are a savior that only knows how

to destroy.

The light goes out. You continue flying.

16.

You and Larry are in a machine that created a monster, and Larry thinks that it will fix him.

This isn’t right.

17.

Niles Caulder is trying to torture you out of him. It’s always

torture, how you live here, how he wants to evict you for the sole act

of saving his life. He wanted to die in that airplane, and you want to die

here inside of him, you want him to know that he can’t keep doing this,

it’s hurting you, he is doing the one action

he vowed to never manifest again. You love him anyway.

The message is clear. You finally have your voice, but not for long,

everything is taken away from you, always, your life like solar flares,

short bursts of serenity like light that are stolen when he wakes up,

and he will never know that you love him, and you’ll never be understood,

and the world that you have been forced into is a cruel, desaturated

crushing

weight on your chest, your chest in his chest, you invent something

to keep the light from going out. A Larry that won’t hurt you anymore. A world

without barriers.

18.

Intermission like fire. They send electricity into his body, sharp

and horrid, pressed into his neck from behind bulky suits— this electricity

is completely unlike your electricity, which had bloomed from

a destiny planted in two people. He doesn’t deserve this, he thinks

that he deserves this.

They hurt him so you kill them. It’s the most simple thing in the universe. It does not get you

anywhere good.

19.

You didn’t leave much behind. You know this. You know that every world you’ve been in

has been unkind. You long for home. You do not long for Larry yet. You just

want to go home.

He wants to go home, but his home, in the mind that you share,

is hellfire, or something that he will never have again, and he’s still in this hospital bed

playing games with the choice that represents a burden he no longer

has to bear but won’t let shatter. You shine in his arm, underneath his skin.

It’s supposed to be comforting. You just want to be something good. If

you are forced to be here, between these ribs, you can at least try

to be virtuous.

20.

First you lived in a world that could never reveal your depths, and now

you live in a world that refuses to accommodate you, the world in this case

being Larry, the world as Larry & Larry as the world, the unbearable realization

that his innards no longer wrap around you to strangle & instead are welcomed

in a way that he will never understand.

What is this? What is this? You have always felt emotion

like open wounds, unstitchable wounds with holy thoughts

spilling out to stain, but this is something new, this is something

that you will never be able to cope with. It looks, almost, like love,

but it isn’t, it can’t be. Love isn’t supposed to be soaked

in tragedy.

21.

Hold onto Larry. You hold onto Larry as you shuttle him through the sky, to safety,

away from the bad men & their guns & sick, restricting minds. You also hold onto

Rita, but it isn’t the same.

22.

You wonder if Larry will ever make peace with the scarring past

that moves against him like a malicious lover. You know better. Every time

you think you’ve made progress, he reminds you that you know better.

23.

Let’s say that God is Larry and they are the same. To you, they

are the same. He created the version of you

that exists now. He changed you. Irreparably. Unbearably, he has

changed you, and now you’ll never stop wanting more. He has made you hungry.

Larry Trainor has created a Negative Spirit that still cannot be virtuous. You want to be virtuous,

but you want him more, and if the world is going to end at some point - well. At least it will end

with you inside of him, the way it’s supposed to be.

24.

You’re inside the body of the only beautiful thing in this world, and he will never love you, and you feel like you’ve done

something terrible, like invaded him without intent, or put him on the ceiling, or crashed his bus, and you wish it was tiring, you wish you could find a way

to stop loving him at an intensity that burns hotter than any sun, any star,

anything superlunary that has ever existed, but you’ll always be stuck here,

inside of the beautiful man’s soul, and you’ll never be able to tell him

that you love him but you feel it anyway—

something invading your own body, something that freezes and covers him,

and the world is about to be torn in half,

and you’ve discovered, too late, a way to love him

that doesn’t hurt anyone.