“I used to have dreams that cows were eating me” Christina said. We sat on pillows on the floor. A green glass bong rotated.”The cows were eating me, but I liked it. I thought it was fun. I took this as a sign that I should become a vegetarian.” I imagined it as a video game, a background of blue sky with a white picket fence and friendly cows eating at bits of flesh on her arms and thighs. And something about this clicked. I looked up and the group was staring at me, I realized I had been laughing, unable to stop.

That morning I left my new boyfriend. Nickolas was the first on a string of 2-week relationship, a relationship you start strong, despite every signal that this person is going to consume you. I met Nickolas at a fashion show. He the first boy I saw with a mustache or Nikes-in-a-cool-way. Soon we were under his Hello Kitty bedding, stripping our clothes. He told me his life story. Growing up on an Indian Reservation, being a pro-skater in L.A. His Mom dying. It all sounded made up, but when I ambushed him–(Have you ever smoked crack?) He seemed to answer honestly –(Yes. Smoking crack is just something boys do, I don’t know why.)

We fucked doggy style, bellies sloshing with wine. I remember his smell,  unshowered skunk, and the sound of our chests sucked together. I taped the Nicholas pregnancy test to the bathroom mirror, for some message: “There is no life here. Nothing growing inside you”. I’ve never had a pregnancy test say “yes” and even though I don’t want kids, it always feel as though I’ve failed. Do you think the cat knows when she is full of kittens? Does she get a glow with the saggy-furry belly? Or is she bloated and confused?

I once saw my cat give birth. It was springtime, rain streaked the windows. I heard a noise in the closet. There in the dark, she sat up straight, human-like. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her body shook. A feral smell mingled with the closet’s plastic-y shoes. Silently, she pushed out shiny kitten-bags. It seemed as though she would never stop. Outside, purple heat lightning cracked.

Our fights were getting violent. Nickolas shook me, crying. Drunk at bars I realized he would already have my credit card, promising to pay me back. When I locked him out of my apartment, I found another credit card, under a strange name. Was it a regular hipster stink, or a homeless one?

I would collect more two week relationships, like some charm bracelet of dysfunction. There was a drummer from an NYC hardcore band with missing teeth and Olivia tattooed on his forearm. Olivia started showing up on his cell phone too. There was the 40 year old club-goth who believed the only cure for his liquor-wrecked liver was vodka.  A guy from Prog who I told I loved the first night, in between drugs and trading outfits. But that morning on the train from Chinatown with the women carrying warm spotted paperbags, I knew I wouldn’t see Nickolas again.

It is a reminder, that you deserve love and don’t. It is in sixth grade when it was planetarium day.  I crawled in the tent with it’s cool air and sound of whirring projectors and sat next to a boy. Our knees touched and fused us together. It’s providing nourishment. Everyone is crazy, it’s just about finding a shade that suits yours. I finally stopped laughing. “Wow, is it a good high?” Christina asked.

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