In this moment I can feel my heart beat fast and unsure.
Oswald stands before me, a determination in his eyes. I want to know for sure if what I see is real. If what I feel is real. We stand like this for what seems like hours. He is battling an inner struggle that I can see through his posture, through his ever wandering blue eyes, through his uncertainty and unquestionably scared expression.
But I am scared too. Oswald is my friend. My best friend. And maybe. Just maybe. A little more.
"Um," Oswald says, finally. "There is something that I need to tell you. Something very important."
We wait. In this moment there are only words between us. Words that we cannot say.
"What is it, Oswald?"
He takes in a deep breath.
"You know what, I forget!"
He laughs, uncomfortably.
"In and out of my head just like that. Don't you hate that when that happens."
I let out a sigh of disappointment.
"That never happens to me," I say.
"You know what? I believe that!" he says. His voice shakes a bit as he speaks.
I am disappointed in myself. In him.
I look away. In the corner of my eye I can see a replica of myself. My other person. My multiple in Multiple Personality. He looks feisty, like something has sparked his interest. Please, not now. Please. Please. Please.
But he doesn't go away.
"You prance around, Ed," he says to me, "like you're straight. But I know the truth."
I am grateful Oswald cannot hear him, and I shake my head slightly in response.
"You can't get rid of me, Ed," he says. "I am your suppressed thoughts. And dare I say also your suppressed feelings?"
"Shut up," I say quietly.
"Excuse me?" asks Oswald.
"What?" I say. "No, not you, Oswald."
He looks confused, looking at me awkwardly.
"Oh, um, well," Oswald sputters.
He can't say it. He won't say it. And I feel torn.
"The car is waiting," I say to him.
He nods and swirls around in an exaggerated circle, pulling his bad ankle along in his signature walk.
"You know damn well what he wants to say," my other says to me, now whispering in my ear. "Give in. You want it too."
"Do I?" I ask myself quietly. "What if I'm wrong? What if that's not what he wants at all? What if it's not what I want at all?"
I put my head down as I follow Oswald to the car. I have to be strong. I can't let my heart lead my head. My brain is all I have.
And right now I hate myself for wanting to feel something, especially at the expense of the type of friendship I have waited my whole life to have.
My other follows.
"You don't deserve happiness," he tells me. "Even if you had him, you'd kill him. Just like you killed the others."
I swat at him like I would a fly, but he keeps talking.
"You're a monster, Ed. Not a lover. Your heart is cold."
"I am NOT a monster!" I say back.
"Just look at him," my other says. "Look at that man you call your friend. Remember what you said? That you would do anything for him."
"Shut up!"
"No! I am your truth, Ed," he says. "And you've known for awhile, haven't you?"
"I'm not gay," I say. "He's just a friend."
My other laughs.
I get in the car after Oswald. In this moment he smiles at me. Oh god, that smile.
"Where are we heading to again?" Oswald asks me.
"PS134," I say without emotion. "You're touring a school."
"Great," he says under his breath. "I looove children."
Oswald roles his eyes and looks out the window. His fingers fiddling with the window's up and down buttons on the car door.
My other snickers. I give him a hard stare.
"Remember 6th grade?" he askes me. "What was his name?"
No, I think, shaking my head. I don't want to hear it. I don't want this conversation now, or ever for that matter. But he keeps talking.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"He punched me in the jaw," I whisper.
"You wrote his name on your class binder. With a heart around it."
"Shut up. Now."
Oswald looks my way again.
"Will the press be there?" he asks.
"Huh? Oh, uh, yes. The press will be there."
Oswald goes back to looking out the window.
"What about…" my other starts to say, but I interrupt him with a grunt. "You wanted to hold his hand."
"But I didn't."
"But you wanted to."
"So?! There was also…"
I choke. I can't say her name.
Oswald, who was previously unaware of the conversation I was having with myself, looks over at me with concern in his eyes.
My other leans close to my ear, "You can't say her name because you killed her. Poor little Ed, back at the GCPD. You squeezed her throat until she died. And you loved it."
I smiled at Oswald.
"Bi," my other says.
In this moment I glance at myself.
"What?"
"You're bi," he says.
I wiggle in my seat a little, uncomfortable. Oswald is still eyeing me.
We finally arrive at the school. I let Oswald get out of the car first. He gives me one last look before addressing the crowd of press. Then I lose him. He performs best in front of a crowd. It's his creative medium.
He was beautiful in this element. Oh hell, it was more than that. It was his purpose.
"Bi," I hear my other say.
"Ugh. Do you ever rest?"
I follow behind the crowd through the front doors of the school, lingering behind in order to talk to myself.
"That look Oswald gives you," my other says. "You know what that means."
"I do not love Mr. Penguin," I say. "He is a friend and associate only. And even if I did love him, he would never truly love me back. What would be the benefit of giving my heart, if he is only going to stomp on it?"
"You're thinking with your head, Ed. But what is your heart saying?"
"Forget my heart."
My other grins.
"Look at him. At the Penguin."
I look at Oswald, who is wrapping up his speech with hand shaking and pictures.
"Yeah," I say to myself. "He's very charismatic."
"And your heart?"
"My heart is useless," I say just as Oswald wiggles passed the crowd to get to me.
"Are we done yet?" he whispers, looking around him nervously. "I hate children."
"Ok, Mr. Penguin," I say as professionally as I can. "Let's wrap it up."
The crowd follows us to the car and takes photos of us as we drive away. We sit next to each other, silent. Oswald is focused on something in his mind.
I can feel my other breathing on me. I shake my head to make him go away.
"You have to hear it," my other says to me. "And he needs to say it."
I feel conflicted. Feel. That word again. I don't want to feel. I want to think logically.
This was not logic. This was nonsense.
"So Oswald," I say. "What were you talking about earlier when…"
"Oh sorry," Oswald says loudly. Too loudly. "Uh, I'm not that much a fan of children. I never really had friends growing up, and…."
I interrupt him.
"No, no, before that. What you forgot? Have you…have you remembered what it was you wanted to say?"
"Oh," he stammers. "Yeah, that."
"I know you didn't really forget, Oswald," I say. "And I'm ready to hear it."
"Oh?" he says, cocking his head to the side.
I nod.
"I just wanted to say…"
He pushes his chest out and takes in a big breath.
"I just wanted to say…"
"Yes?"
"That I love you," he says quickly.
He lets out a huge sigh and hides his face in his hands.
"I thought so," I say, rather coldly.
"Is it…is it going to ruin our friendship?" Oswald asks. "I take it back! I'm sorry. I'm just so confused."
"No, no, it's fine," I say.
"I just…"
"It's fine, Oswald."
"Ok."
"But Mr. Penguin," I say, "I don't love you back."
There is silence.
My other shakes his head, disappointed.
"You'll never know love if you don't open up and feel," he says.
But I don't want to feel.
"I don't believe you!" Oswald says.
"What?"
He takes another big breath and leans into my space, placing a kiss on my lips.
I receive it with coldness. I do not react. I do not move.
"Oh," he says, as he finds his composure. "Ok. Never mind."
I close my eyes. I shut my brain off. In this moment, I feel my heart beat fast and unsure.
And without another thought, I lunge towards my friend, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pressing my lips on his.
Oswald seems shocked, but quickly recovers, wrapping his arms around me in return.
The kiss was awkward. It was sloppy. It was wet.
And it was glorious.