Joe Amster<\/em><\/h4>\n(Trigger Warning)<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t sure which sensation was more powerful \u2013 hearing the buzz of my phone or feeling the subsequent drop of my stomach. I dreaded looking at the message solely because I knew whom it was from and what my reaction to it was going to be. The texts always came at night. With persistence and with expectation. My blanket slid off my bed as I rolled over and was momentarily stunned by the brightness of the phone on my nightstand.<\/p>\n
Kevin: Yo Brandon u down to chill? \u2013 sent 1:32am<\/p>\n
Figures that he wouldn\u2019t call it what it is\u2013not that I\u2019m any more forthcoming about our arrangement. We both know that he\u2019s too scared to say he wants to hook up, yet somehow, that\u2019s not enough to prevent him from actually sending the message. I try and fail to take a deep breath as the blackness of my bedroom seems to swallow me whole. This routine is wearing away at me, and I\u2019m too tired to give him the satisfaction of a response. I defiantly sink back into my mattress and put my covers over my head, hoping that they\u2019ll shield me from the presence looming at my bedside. Another buzz.<\/p>\n
Kevin: Don\u2019t be like this Ik you\u2019re up \u2013 sent 1:40am<\/p>\n
As much as he pisses me off, he knows just as much as I do that this is a fight I will not win. As twisted as it is, Kevin is all I have. I often find myself alone and afraid to be close to those closest to me. My whole life has been a series of falling in love with people whom I know will never love me back. I get attached to my friends in ways that confuse me and are never reciprocated. Inevitably, I end up being perceived as clingy when, in truth, I just harbor a desperate need for mutual affection. It used to be that when I thought of friends all I saw were eyes looking down at me with annoyance and repulsion, but now the only thing I can see is his face, smiling.<\/p>\n
Everyone knew the rumors about Kevin\u2013what he had done in camp and more specifically who he had done it with. I guess it takes one to know one, and next thing I knew, Kevin came onto me. Strongly. I was scared out of my mind, and in the moment it felt like I couldn\u2019t move\u2026 I didn\u2019t really. My body was paralyzed as it took in the sensations of another person\u2019s body in a way it never had. It was both debilitating and intoxicating. It seemed impossible to me that my mind could be moving so quickly while my body remained so still. Eventually, though, my limbs seemed to catch up to my thoughts and I ran away.<\/p>\n
I was terrified after, but some sick side of me needed more of what I knew only he could provide. My mind was a prisoner to the touch that my starved body had been craving for years, reinforced by so much heartache. My mind convinced me that if I didn\u2019t answer every ask, call, and want, the only interest anyone has ever shown in me would disappear. The problem was that Kevin knew all this.<\/p>\n
I watched myself, as though not in my body, pull off my spiderman blankets, place my retainer on the nightstand piled with dusty forgotten toys, and trudge over to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and snuck out past the bedroom of my unknowing parents, then through the front door of my home. The part of me that watched from a distance saw the pain and hurt of this confused kid so clearly. It was written in the shuffling of my feet towards Kevin\u2019s house, the shivering despite the heat of the night, the creases in my forehead, the slumping shoulders, and the sole tear running down my face. This detached part of me almost couldn\u2019t comprehend what was pushing my body forward. \u00a0Internally, I knew this was what I deserved. My body forced my mind to accompany it on this journey towards self-loathing and perverted pleasure. My thoughts screamed for release but submitted to the extended hand of the man waiting for me at his front door. I never even told him I was coming, but we both knew I would.<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
Joe Amster<\/strong> writes, “I am currently a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences with an undeclared major but am hoping to major in Psychology and plan to graduate in the spring of 2023. I\u2019m from West Orange, New Jersey where I grew up in the orthodox Jewish community. Fall 2021 was my first semester at Rutgers after having transferred from a Jewish university in the city. I am very thankful to be here.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Joe Amster (Trigger Warning) I wasn\u2019t sure which sensation was more powerful \u2013 hearing the buzz of my phone or feeling the subsequent drop of my stomach. I dreaded looking … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":442,"featured_media":0,"parent":1821,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2458","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nText from a Friend - Writers House Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/sites.rutgers.edu\/writers-house-review\/volume-2-fall-2021\/text-from-a-friend\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Text from a Friend - Writers House Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Joe Amster (Trigger Warning) I wasn\u2019t sure which sensation was more powerful \u2013 hearing the buzz of my phone or feeling the subsequent drop of my stomach. 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