(no subject)

I went in on my own. I don't know why. It felt important. They were waiting in the car...what was I supposed to do, give a signal? It felt ridiculous. I felt so stupid. Even though I'd left a message it was like, here I am! Your son! Happy?

He seemed happy.

I can't tell you, whoever you are reading this, what it was like to see him. After everything, he was simply a man. Aging a little. Wearing glasses--so he's the one. He said hello Jack and somehow I forgot my balls and called him sir.

I'd dressed nice, i guess. Maybe a little straight, but it's not like he'd be thinking that, he knows. Spares me extra grief. it was a nice house, he invited me in...did I say he was listed? Phone book, right as ever. Avery smugged about over that, I think, only what he mostly did was cough.

I wanted to like him. He asked about Annabelle. He even had his own kids now. I have a half-brother. Same as Jake. Except this one was all happy and shite, With his mum and his dad and the mum was actually really nice, didn't think it was odd to see me, but she disappeared pretty quick.

Anyway. he asked me to sit down but I stood up and I kept thinking about my cigarettes. i'd left them in the car. I kept thinking Avery would have thrown them out by the time I got back. I asked him to explain...I didn't want to listen and I almost feel stupid now but it was all stupid! None of it mattered none of it when he had left, right?

I introduced my boys. Poor Avery. We were invited for dinner but I shook his hand and said I'd see him later and that was it that was it I met him I touched him I hate him.

I hate him.

I was so jealous of that kid, of his fat happy wife, the clean house--it's too clean, okay? There's no place for me. How is he allowed to be so sad about not having been there, when he didn't come back. How is it okay that he's happy? I suppose he's moved on--well fuck him, I can move on, too.

I'll forget him in London.