"THIS IS JUST LIKE Notting Hill,” Cole thought as he walked along the river next to Mitch. Cole hadn’t seen the Julia Roberts/Hugh Grant 1999 rom-com, but he could get down with a Hugh Grant type, that kind of bookish hot librarian look. Cole turned to look at Mitch, scanning him up and down. Nope, way too messy for that. But regardless, Cole was a boy, standing in front of another boy, asking him to love him. He’d seen that part of the movie at least, those 2 minutes and 45 seconds burned into his mental vision board. 

“Wait no no no no no, this is a Pretty Woman sort of scenario, I’m suave Richard Gere and I’m gonna help Julia Roberts get her life on track with the power of my love for her! Or him in this case!” Cole also hadn’t seen Pretty Woman, but apparently Julia Roberts rom-coms seemed to stick out in his mind right now. The duo reached a bench near the edge of the park and sat down. Cole waited for Mitch to wrap his arm around him, but he seemed too preoccupied with what he was saying to notice Cole’s subtle hints. He had been talking about how his day was, or maybe how his sister was, or something like that, but Cole found it hard to focus on the content when Mitch’s voice sounded like a billion harps playing at once, the beautiful sound a pure wave of delight breaching the shores of Cole’s ears. 

“So like the boys and I were up super late last night throwing down, so like, that’s why I’m kind of out of it, FYI. Like I’m not hung over, I don’t get hungover I’m not like a pussy or nothing, but that’s why.”

“Wow, that’s so interesting Mitchy,” Cole said as he took the initiative and wrapped his arm around Mitch’s shoulder. 

“Mitchy...Harry Met Sally maybe? Like Mitchy Met Coley?” Cole hadn’t seen that one either, but he knew it had that scene where Meg Ryan faked an orgasm in a diner and that seemed very on brand for Mitch. Cole met Mitch at a party his friend Paul was throwing. Ok well actually, Cole first *saw* Mitch at that party, they’d chatted on Tinder for about 2 weeks before that before they happened to run into each other at the party. He just told people it was at the party because that sounded more romantic than matching on Tinder. Besides, it was at the party that he really fell for Mitch. When they locked eyes from across Paul’s living room, everything dissolved in the air. Suddenly, Cole heard music coming from his own heart, loudly banging and clashing and rejoicing like a big brass band. Mitch made him feel the beauty, made him feel the fun. Now that was a story you could tell people. Imagine on your 5th anniversary telling people you met because you matched on tinder? Cole shuddered at the thought.

“Anyways, so like since I’m not hungover but I am feeling kinda off, is it tight if we skip that picnic idea you had and call it a little early?”

“Yeah, of course Mitch. Anything you say...” Cole cooed as he leaned over and kissed Mitch on the cheek. Or at least he had aimed for the cheek, but Mitch had started to stand up so he kinda just bumped their heads together. Cole chuckled and stood up beside Mitch. 

They started walking to the park’s exit, Cole dangling his hand temptingly close to Mitch’s hand while he considered more options. While he loved the idea of a musical rom-com since Mitch always made him feel like there was a marching band inside his heart, none of them seemed to fit. Grease is too dated and La La Land is too Jazz. There’s that scene in Love, Actually that they have a flash mob to”All I Want for Christmas is You” right? But again, Hugh Grant!

They had reached the end of the park, and reemerged back onto the bustling streets of Sheboygan. Cole smiled. He may not have found their perfect rom-com yet, but he had plenty of time to find it. Suddenly, Mitch grabbed Cole’s hand and turned to face him. Cole felt the marching band start up as blood rushed to his face. 

“Hey man, I’ve gotta tell you something, ok?”

The marching band crescendoed as Cole could feel his hands sweating. This was it, he was gonna call Cole his b-word. They’d only been seeing each other for just over a month but when you have a connection like this you better lock it down. (500) Days of Summer but like, (30) Days of Mitch? No, he had to pay attention, he had to focus, he had to remember every detail of this moment for the rest of his life. Cole nodded before remembering his own surprise. 

“Wait one second, I have something first.” Last night Cole had scoured the web for the perfect recipe for the perfect picnic, ultimately choosing a wonderful sounding blueberry blackberry pie recipe. He slaved away in the kitchen making the cutest dark blue pie for the cutest of guys, and he wasn’t gonna let this moment pass without it. Out of his tropical print jansport Cole pulled 2 forks and this pie, magically pristine despite all the walking they had done. 

“Here, I made this for the picnic and I didn’t want it to go to waste,” he said as he offered Mitch a bite. Never one to turn down food, Mitch tried a bite and smiled, clearly in love with it. Cole could feel the band about to burst out of his chest.

“So like, I think about relationships on a points system. All relationships, not just like romance stuff.” Mitch teetered back and forth as he felt Cole’s gaze boring a hole in him, waiting for the words he’d never say. 

“Like everything I like, everything that makes us more compatible, everything someone else does that I like, that adds points. That’s how I know who’s my friend versus like my best friend and all that.” Mitch swallowed hard. He couldn’t tell what Cole was thinking, but he knew how he was about to feel. This was never easy.

“Um, so like, I don’t think I like you in like a relationship way.”

Silence. The band stopped. 

“Like I like you and I really want to be your friend, I’m not lying about that I know people lie and always say they want to be friends as like some polite shit but you should know by now I don’t do stuff like that. You got enough points to put you like on the level of my straight guy friends that I kinda have crushes on. Like, maybe in a bit we can like fuck if you want?”

Silence. Cole’s heart stopped.

“Hey so like, are you ok? I know this isn’t easy but like, I just don’t think we’re all that compatible? We met at an emotional time when you had that thing with your dog dying and I had just found out Ray Donovan got canceled, and I’m really glad I met you, but the longer we pretended this would work out the harder this would be.”

Silence.

“I mean it, I want to be your friend but it’s ok if that’s too hard I get it. And we don’t have to be friends right away, or at all man. But I want you in my life still, just as not like...this. What do you say? Or can you say anything? You’re freaking me out a bit man.”

“I’m sorry I...I...I don’t….I don’t know.” Cole looked at his feet, his mind completely blank. “Would you...do you want a slice of pie to take home?”

“I mean it’s very good, but it would probably just sit in my fridge….” Mitch trailed off, taken aback by Cole’s response. 

“Ah….well then, I’ll just take….this. And I’ll just-” Cole interrupted himself, his mind suddenly not blank. 

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK AHHHHHHHHH FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUCK AHHHHH GOD FUCK DAMN FUCK GOD FUCK DAMN FUCKING FUCK”

With both his hands Cole took the pie and slammed it down as hard as he could onto the pavement, splattering it all over the sparkling concrete. The pie was completely ruined, just like his picture perfect fairytale love story. He looked up at the sky and unleashed another scream. This time there weren’t specific words so much as just a scream of pure emotion. He hadn’t quite figured out what emotion, and he could tell he probably never would. But damn if it didn’t feel good to scream. 

Eventually he stopped, and looked down at Mitch. He had checked screaming off his list for now.

“Sorry about that. Actually no, I’m not sorry about that. Gimme a week and we’ll talk, ok? I just gotta cry a bit, eat ice cream, start a fitness journey, get a new hot wardrobe, maybe apply to Harvard Law, and learn that I’ve loved myself the whole time, you know the whole Eat, Pray, Love deal. Wow, guess I am Julia Roberts. Should be a week and then maybe we can do a game night or something? Idk we’ll talk, but right now I’ve got some soul searching to do. Later!”

​

Mitch stood there confused as Cole turned around and started walking away.

SOME DAYS I REALLY just want to pack up my books and my dog and move to the coast of Ireland. I want to live in a Renoir painting of waves. I want to live on the beach and learn to surf -- probably not, but it would be nice to have the option. 

Some days I want to change my major and transfer schools to start over. I want to never speak to anyone again, read poetry all day, and live in the woods. These days I wish I could go back in time and just be known as the crazy old witch lady who lives by herself in a spooky cabin. 

Other days I’m perfectly content where I am. I’ll sit in bed, with my dog warming my feet, and my record player playing Hozier. But the dreams are still in there.

IT IS EASY TO FORGET that the world exists. Or more so that we are living things part of a larger living thing. At least, I forget that this world is alive. And sometimes I forget that I am alive too. It is so easy to get lost in made up spaces and lose the feeling of this body on this planet. What it is to be a mind in a body. It’s easy to get caught up in the trials and tribulations of a seemingly hugely important human life. The deadlines, the projects, the capitalism of it all. This seemingly all-consuming system of life that obscures anything that isn’t it. 

And then it rains. 

The rain does not care if it falls on soil or concrete, it falls nevertheless. It is entirely and utterly indifferent to little human lives. It will not stop just because you had a family picnic planned and you rented a blowup bouncy house. The rain will fall regardless of human plans. It is a reminder that this earth is alive even if the only green we can see is breaking through a crack in the sidewalk. 

And if the earth is alive (she is). We are alive too. 

Alive and a part of an everything energy. The same thing that lives in the rain, is in me too. I can’t always feel it. But when it rains that something swells up. A feeling that I am in a body, made of water, and dirt, and fundamental earth stuff and I am not just some consciousness that accidentally got stuck in this body. My consciousness is just as much water, and dirt, and earth stuff. And I am like the rain. 

Humans can poison themselves on this planet, and they have, and they will, but eventually, one day or another rain will come. Even the longest droughts end with rain. And this planet will keep on raining with or without us here to feel it on our faces, umbrellas, and roofs. 

On the scale of the lifetime of this earth I am close to nothing. But I am water. And I am dirt. And I am fundamental earth stuff. And so is everyone and everything that I love. 

The rain is indifferent. And it reminds me that I am small. But it is in that smallness that I find my body and its place as an alive thing, as part of an alive world. 

So I go outside, and I let the rain fall on my face. 

I Can't Live My Life Without Structure

By AJ McDougall

RODNEY HAD ONE SON, Tom. Tom was already married with a child on the way when he received the call from his Dad narrating his fun alcoholic experience. Tom, who had recently moved out of the country to explore a new life, sighed heavily when he heard the news. He told his wife Agatha about what had happened, nodded when she sighed as well, and muttered how he was going to take a walk.

It was always stressful when one moves out of the town, and away from one’s parents as they get older. Focused so much on his concerns for his aging parents, Tom, who didn’t really know his new neighbourhood well enough to go on autopilot, wandered around and slowly realised he no longer recognised the floor beneath him.

Drat! Turns out, he was just as bad as his Dad, worse even because he didn’t have the excuse of losing his marbles to get him by. Hanging there, looking around at the modern furniture, all these smooth, shiny, and dark surfaces, he felt a wave of dread. It was getting late, there was no one around, and his wife was somewhere back there, pregnant and waiting for him to return. He had to make it back.

But before he did… he caught from the corner of his eye a bowl filled with fruit and other foods. The moment he noticed it, the sweet, sticky waft of it floated in. If he could snag a bit of the food and bring it home – well that would excuse any mistakes he made that night.

He rubbed his hands together, greedy suddenly, and crept over to the bowl. If he just took a few, no one would notice – didn’t look like anyone was there anyways. He peeked in. Wow jackpot! A bowl of oval and round green fruits, with ones near the bottom and edges rotting slightly, leaving speckles and parts soft and brown and bruised. Well, he’d be doing the owners a favour then, if he took some of the rotting fruits – the smelliest and most pungent pieces of the bunch – and

left them the under ripe fruits behind.

It was more difficult than he planned. Boy! (He really needs to start working out again, once they were more settled in their new home. Man he used to be so fit, when Agatha just met him he was an athlete, and as time went on his priorities changed. Food was just so good, he wasn’t gonna limit himself in that way. But maybe if this meant he could get more food, then it’d be good to work out again.)

He managed to lug a bit up and had made it out of the bowl, remembered that he was still lost, and sighed once again, readjusting the fruit in his arms. Ugh. This will be worth it when he sees Agatha’s face light up back home. Maybe he could put it back down, figure out his route and come back and pick it up. He wasn’t sure which was most time-efficient, and which was most energy-efficient. Man his arms were getting TIRED. How could he hold a BABY if he couldn’t even hold a piece of fruit. Maybe he was getting second thoughts about all of this. If he stayed at home near his parents, they’d be safe and he could keep an eye on him, not to mention that they could help him with his newborn. If he ever made it back, maybe he’d talk to Agatha about moving. But it was her dream to try out a new place, and she is the one carrying the baby. Man, these thoughts were things he never anticipated to think about today. This fruit is whack. Time for him to get out of here.

He heave-ho’d, he grunted, and made his way through doorways, hoping to recognise something soon. He wandered and wandered, all through the night with his fruit.