falling out in five parts over five years

i. we met just before our freshman yearat a mansion in la jollaat our legacy sweet sixteen friend’s mixertwo fragile thin bloodedsan diego idiots moving to new yorkevery single day came fat with an apple in its mouthwe constructed and assembled the dumbest empireof 5 minute friends but also some good onesi *constructed* my class schedule to allow forhangovers from my favorite weekly partiesthe night before usually at baddies orbutter or desantosNYU should be illegallost and horny18 year olds being reborn untodowntown manhattan$200,000 worth of debta solid fake ID networkfern cliff for 40scosmic cantina open to 4amand mental health wellness checksat every point of entryfor any campus clinic visitsbecause of all the suicideshe became my brotherwe talked everyday and he becameone of the few people i’d want toand could even spend time withall the timei knew his family and the quirksand the pain and the difficultieshe knew minehe knew memaybe best when in 2014after michelle’s house partyi biked home drunk taking houstonup bedford and then over christopherand then up hudson to perry sti picked up a four pack of crispini put them one by one into a blender bottleto shake the bubbles out so i could chugall four as fast as i couldi put on bojack horsemanreclining in my zero gravity chaira scene about fathers and abuseand abandonment and consequentmaternal engulfment passed byan instinctual thoughtof self extinctiontotal immolationcrossed my mindi recalled seeingas i was emptyingthe crispin into the cupsand then into meseeing a knife in the kitcheni thought about pushing it into my stomachnot stabbing not thrustingbut pushingi drafted a textit was sometime after 3ami told daniel the thought i had hadi told him i was okay and was goingto smoke pot and go to bedi didi woke up to several missed callsnot from danielbut from my momhis mom is a therapistand i’m sure she toldhim to bypass a call to meand to tell my motheri stopped drinking for a bitbut then he and i planned a tripto basquein and around bilbao and st jean de luzand the bullshit somm in mecouldn’t and wouldn’t abstainthe powerlessnessand unmanageabilitygrew and grew ii. michelle’s mom said somethingdisparaging about middle eastern peoplewhile we ate our cold pizza from star tavernthere was a pause thatso often happenswith white peopleafter something racist is saiddiffusion of responsibilityculminating in a disappointingreminder that“mom…. paasha is middle eastern”like having defended my backgroundsince 9/11the first time hearingthe N word was being used at me[of the SAND varietal]wasn’t enoughi’d met michelle through danielher now bfwho i stopped over with in orange njto get pizza and hang outon our way to dana and mike’s weddingfor which neither of us had broughtor bought a gifti talked to daniel about the incidentwe sorta landed on me sending a shortand kind text to michellesomething along the lines of“hey i might check in with your momabout what happened the other day”i sent in monday around noonwhen i was back home on state stshe responded faster than i wouldhave thought it would take to read the messagein the first placeshe called it passive aggressive and maybeeven unbecomingi talked to daniel about itand hethe infinite avoider of conflictsaid he didn’t really want to get involvedi left it alone and felt a space growbetween he and i iii. i got a call that my omawas in the hospitaland the feeling ofthis is itwashed over mei saw her in the hospitaland i adapted in the momentthe only way i knew possiblei took photos of everythingmy mom and aunts and unclesseeming weirdly understandingof that being my coping mechanismthe doctor looked like aneven more pathetic versionof buster bluthand he told usthat hospice at homewas usually what mostfamilies decided to doi never knew really quite what that meantthat you are taken off an IVthat you’d get no food no waterthat your organs failall in front of your familyin the living rooma hospital bedreplaced the coffee tablethat’d been there so longit had made four permanentdivets in the shag carpeti never got a call from danieli think i got a textsometimes our friends overthinkthings to the point of total inactionthinking FOR usto the point of harming us iv. after oma passedand after feeling some coldness on his endhe said he wanted to talk in personbut knew too that i was not going to beback in new york from awhileeventually we metin some random townhousein boerum hill he was housesitting fori asked what was happeningwhat was going onhe made some half hearted attemptsto be gentlewhich i’ve found alwaysdevelops the statements to followto be unconsciously seethingan entitlement to crueltybased in a preface of feigned kindnesshe arrived at his point after 10 minutes of floundering“you’ve been… and are…. just…. too much” v. i later developed a distrust for peoplewho are perpetually housesitting for otherswhat are you running away from?it’s *your* home*you* picked it outit’s okay to set boundariesit’s good to set boundariesi have a lot to thank you forlearningthe streets of new york on a skateboardhow to make a filmhow not to wash dishesit’s okay to set boundariesit’s good to set boundariesi also learnedthere is no such thing astoo muchjusttoo little

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Paasha Motamedi · paasha.motamedi@gmail.com