Just Wait » Boyf Riends

Jeremy Is Exceedingly Jewish And I Am Exceedingly Stupid

"So is that like considered almost like the Jewish version of baptism? Like after that you're a Certified Jew™?"

"Eh, I mean, kinda? But it's more like, when you turn thirteen, you're a man! So it's more like an aging thing than it is a baptism thing," Jeremy smiles to himself softly, "I dunno, I guess I was always just kinda bullied and made fun of, and y'know... uh... Being a man made me feel... more safe? I guess? I mean, I know I wasn't technically a man, I was just a 13-year-old boy. But it gave me a tiny boost of temporary confidence!"

  So there was that. His bar mitzvah was his happiest memory, and I honestly hope to create some more happy memories with him. I'm not sure anything I do is ever going to top flying to Israeli to become a big cool manly man, but I'm hoping I can at least be a close second.

To sum it all up: Jeremy and I have been friends for a week and four days and I could not be happier.

  That happiness was followed by an inhumane amount of guilt.

  What if that hadn't happened?

Y'know... the thing.

The thing I dubbed as "The Stupidest Thing I've Ever Done On This Bitch Of an Earth."

What if I hadn't broken up with Jeremy in such an awful way? What if I let him off easy as Chloe had suggested, and continued to be his friend? I would've had a cancer-free Jeremy for another solid four years.

  Four fucking years.

I missed four entire years of this absolutely lovely human being just because 10-year-old me decided to be an asshole,

That guilt ate me alive for a little while. Had one restless night over it, no big deal. I've had worse. Every now and then though that thought pop back up from the depths of hell where it once belonged and I'll feel like shit for a solid thirty minutes before I drown my sorrows in either:

A) Playing video games.
B) Eating mass amounts of ice cream.
C) Talking to Jeremy.

My choice ended up being C more often than not.

  This was one of those times. One of those times where the thought pops back up from the depths of hell where it once belonged and forces me to go through with option C.

  Going to the Heere household was almost second nature now. Usually Jeremy came over to my house, considering I'm the one with the gaming system, but usually I have to go pick him up first.

  Like I said: I'm getting maybe a tiny bit overprotective. I just don't want him walking alone. Our neighborhood isn't inherently unsafe, but I'll be damned if I even dare take any chances.

  Mr. Heere's super inviting though, so that makes it all the more welcoming.

Something was a bit off today though. I went to go knock on the door but I could hear Jeremy talking to someone on the other side. That isn't abnormal though, right? He and Chloe are friends, right? He's probably just talking to her, they hang out a lot.

Then I heard what Jeremy was saying:

"Come here, baby—"

If that is Chloe fucking Valentine I am actually going to kill everyone in the world, what the fuck, oh my God, what is the point, life is meaningless, Jeremy could brutally and painfully die tonight and I would feel absolutely nothing—

Wait.

Chloe's a lesbian.

Okay, that's out the window, but that still leaves the question of who the fuck Jeremy is calling baby, and why the fuck I do not have knowledge of them.

I take a deep breath, and slam the door open.

When I open the door, I quickly realize that I am a dumbass (a pre-established fact, but this only enhances it even further) because Jeremy's sitting on his bed cooing to his cat, not another human being.

Okay, maybe I need to fucking calm down.

"Oh, hey Michael!" Jeremy says, smiling innocently, like I didn't just experience all five stages of grief in the last thirty seconds or so.

I don't say anything and stare down at his cat silently.

"Oh! I believe you and Snoop haven't met yet. I told you she refused to climb off the roof and stuff, right? Well I got her down!" He lifts her up enthusiastically and shoves her in my direction, "She's my baby, I love her so much, you have no idea."

  The adrenaline rush I got from a few seconds ago quickly wore off and I realize how dorky my friend is, calling his cat Snoop. I am completely devoid of any real emotion. I have like a maximum amount of emotions I'm allowed to experience everyday, and I way surpassed the maximum after I heard Jeremy call someone something affectionate. That was of course before realizing that it was an animal.

  In other words, when I get killer emotionally exhausted I can only get out half-assed lackluster responses, including the following sentence I blurted out, because it was the first thing my mind could piece together, "What an absolute unit."

  "I know right! She's a legend, I love her," he placed her in his lap, "I'm allergic though. Life sucks. God must hate me."

  "You're allergic to cats? Then why do you have one?"

  "Because I love cats! And, and... and—" he's cut off by a high-pitched sneeze and he looks dazed for a full second afterwards for returning back to reality, "I—uh, that definitely makes me love them a little bit less, but they're still pretty rad, man."

  "They're killer."

  "They sure are!" Jeremy completely ignores the fact that my replies add absolutely nothing to the conversation, and what a legend he is for doing so. Literally every other friend I have would've gotten pissed at me for "half-assing our friendship." (Cough—TOTALLY NOT CHLOE—Cough)

  I exhale, every muscle in my body feels looser, my shoulders go slump, and I feel all around more relaxed.

  Man, who the fuck cares that I wasted four years of friendship just because 10-year-old me was a moron? All I have to do is make the most of the next couple of years—

  Or months.

  Maybe weeks.

  God fucking damnit. Jeremy has cancer. I need to stop fucking forgetting. Every time I remember I feel the exact same way I felt when I first found out he had cancer. The feeling of my world falling apart doesn't get any less overwhelming, and it sure as hell doesn't lower in intensity. This fucking sucks.

  All I can hope for is that Jeremy's dad gets his shit together and finally decides on a surgery so that his son can be healthy and happy and so that I won't have to lose my best friend. I really care about this kid and I've barely known him two weeks. I can't lose him yet.

  I think back to what mama said: "Hold on to him, okay?"

  And I will.

  I swear to God I will.