Bruce In Love

Dear Jesse,

I was sound asleep like I always was at that hour. No dreams, nothing. Just dark, black sleep. I felt some jostling and heard some noises, but nothing that seemed disturbing.

I went to take a breath in, and what I needed wasn’t there. Every day you breathe in and breathe out. You don’t really think about it. Especially not when you’re sleeping. But when the air you need isn’t there, it’s incredible.

My body reacted long before my mind had any idea what was going on. I was up in an instant, running faster than I ever have. I didn’t know how or where; I just needed to get away from this place where I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified. It was the worst moment of my life.

Eventually I began to suffocate and consciousness came and went. I could see a white counter top and then darkness. I could see faces, then darkness. Lights and motion, then darkness. Strangely, a peace settled in. It was like I realized this was supposed to be happening.

I came to consciousness and it was you and me in your room. I couldn’t see you but I felt you. You were crying. You were crying for me. I had never experienced anything like that. I could feel the sadness and I wanted hands big enough to crush the stars. I wanted a voice loud enough to startle the inevitable. It was the immense pain of watching someone you love suffer and the indescribably joy of being in love, at the same time for the first time.

I’m an insect. I am not supposed to have feelings but in that moment I loved you like the universe loves space.

I remembered all those afternoons I sat quietly listening to you after you came home from camp smelling of dirt and sweat and shook me out of a deep sleep. I knew when you were breathing through your mouth you were concentrating, like cutting something out of a magazine or drawing. Sometimes you would stare at me and whisper to me, “Are you mad at me?” “Do you miss your family?” “Do you hate living in a jar?”

On the nights you couldn’t sleep you would listen to me with your head propped up on the stuffed animals you hid in your closet. I could tell you were awake because your mouth was shut and your breath was quiet and measured, like you were trying not to disturb me.

I know this will sound clichéd, but the instant before I died, my whole life made sense to me. As long as I could remember, I knew I was going to work, find a mate and have as many children as possible. So every day I woke up, went to work and waited. But my mate never came.

Do I miss my family? I don’t have a family. I was never chosen. Until the day you found me, I was alone. The only connection I had was to the dead and dying trees I lived and worked in.

If you believe what you read, Jesse, they will tell you that folks like me aren’t chosen to be mates because we are of an inferior genetic make-up. The good ones want to breed with other good ones. Maybe that’s true. I won’t lie, the thought has occurred to me. I mean, how stupid was it for me to wander out in broad daylight like I did that day? I might as well have worn a giant neon sign that read, “Hey birds! Come and get it!” So there’s your evidence. I’m not very smart. 

The day I made that decision to wander out in daylight, I woke up early. I felt a restlessness deep in my soul and I knew there was no way I could go to work. I knew I could never go to work again. I couldn’t pretend anymore. There was something else I was supposed to be doing and I needed to find it.

I don’t think much about whether there is a God, but for some reason I said a little prayer that day. My first ever, “Please. Let me be chosen today.” I had no idea what it meant to be chosen. I figured I would probably be eaten. If something ate me then I would help another hungry creature live and fulfill its purpose. But at least I wouldn’t be alone anymore.

As I lay there dying, listening to you cry, I knew that my prayer had been answered. I don’t know why this is how it turned out for me—that I got to experience something no one like me has ever experienced. It wasn’t easy. The answer to the question you asked me over and over is, no. I did not like living in a jar. But, no, I am not mad at you. Being loved by you was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

Bruce