i dragged ray to a tiny public park in the east village for a free sauna. there were maybe ten people there total, maybe twenty if i’m being generous, and there was music playing in the background that i remember solely as being music, which means that i found it neither horrifically bad nor remarkably good. while we were stripping into our respective black string bikinis, ray said, We’re so bad, and i said, Yes, we are! and i half believed it and half didn’t. i feel very strangely about the way that i look, because my mother, who would never rate me anything above a B+ growing up, has been calling me pretty recently when i ask, which always makes my brain short-circuit because this wasn’t something that i thought possible for her to say. when i post selfies on twitter, i get the usual likes and follows but also quote reposts from boys calling me mid, and when an incel cares enough to insult you, that means that he is attracted to you so much that it enrages him, and that is really something special, to be so attractive to someone that it is maddening.

the sauna was wonderful, so beautiful that while waiting for the c train, tears were welling up in my eyes solely because everything felt so full of Meaning, and all i was doing was standing at a subway stop like i have a million times before and will a million times again. during the ride home, i sat next to a boy with string bracelets and a skateboard and a nose i’d love to bite, and i turned my headphones up all the way and closed my eyes until he got off because i felt him looking at me, which scared me. i wonder when i will stop doing that.