journal (take #4)

by nat raum

After I Think You Should Leave

dear diary, i want to be loved like paul walter hauser as scott loves his wife for helping him when he was freaking out about jamie taco. maybe my biggest weakness is that i cannot imagine in earnest sitting around at poker night and complaining about my lover. dear diary, i also can no longer imagine having a lover worth complaining about. dear diary, if i had a wife i’d let her buy all the patio furniture she wanted because also who doesn’t like sitting outside? i’d flush the toilet like she asks me to. and if i did part my lips to utter a complaint, and it got a laugh from the circle? dear diary, i’d feel just as guilty as scott, probably, and not just because i have borderline personality disorder. yes, i feel everything. but diary, you must understand—i keep my ticker thumping for the quiet joy of being hugged like i’ve just been named a henchman. the thing i feel most is the staccato hum of heartbeat through ribcage and soft tissue.

nat raum (b. 1996) is a disabled artist, writer, and genderless disaster based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They’re the editor-in-chief of fifth wheel press and the author of this book will not save you, the abyss is staring back, random access memory, and others. Past and upcoming publishers of their writing include Gone Lawn, Split Lip Magazine, Allium, and BRUISER. Find them online at natraum.com.