Only Child

They almost adopted. I would have had a little brother. For a whole month, I did. It was easier for me than for them. Too bad. He should have been chosen. If I’d had my way.

After me there were no more accidents. After me there was no more of that kind of love. After me things were planned. One doesn’t set out to be an only child. It happens to be so.

And you don’t get to grow out of it. You don’t get to graduate from it. You don’t get a reprieve or a pardon. You don’t get a chance to escape. Some accidents don’t get fixed.

Used to be, I could get by with stealing brothers and sisters who weren’t wanted. They’re all around, and they’re easy because they all secretly wish they were the only child.

My best lover was an only child. And his best other lover was an only child. She and I tried to see if that worked out with us too. So much for that theory. She was lying, maybe.

My last lit prof thought he could read my only childness into my writing. Something about a thematic genetics metaphor of two cursed threads condemned to die out in their one. Huh?

What would I do with a sibling anyway? Now there would be the metaphor worth me messing up. All the Greek drama I could convert to modern soap opera nonsense. And call it art.

There’s a good reason men get more pleasure out of pleasing themselves. It doesn’t mean anything to them unless we pretend we did it just for them. “For me, all mine, me me.”

I’m no different. I’m an only child. Always been, always will be. No twelve step program out of this one. An only child has no higher power figure. Nor gets to play the role neither.

You too. You had all those brothers and sisters, yeah yeah, but you were born and raised an only child. Ain’t nothing in me you’re happy with unless it gets done just for you.

Nothing wrong with that. It’s how we know we’re separate. It’s how we get to be alone. It’s one of the few things we don’t do because we’re taught to be that way. Why try to change?

If I’d been given the choice, I would have had a little brother. Blood be damned, that wouldn’t do it for me. He should have been a true brother. Chosen. As if he were the only one.

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