The Inexplicable Logic of My Life

by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

And prayer? How could you pray to a God you wanted to hit?

“Your eyes are the color of sky. Did you know that?” I don’t know why I remembered this. Maybe it was because I knew he was telling me he loved me.

“I get you, and I don’t get you.” “Nah. You get me. You totally get me.” Then she got real serious. I knew that look. “You see me, Sally. I. Mean. You. See. Me. My mom, well, you know, she loved me. I know that. But she didn’t always see me. That’s sad. That’s really sad. She didn’t see me because she didn’t see herself. But you? You see me. I remember when we were about six. Maybe seven. I fell on the pavement, and you picked me up. And we walked here, to the house that has become my house. You washed my bleeding knee, which to me was totally traumatic.” We both laughed. “You washed it with a warm washcloth and put a Band-Aid on it, and then you kissed it. Do you remember that?” “No. I don’t remember that.” “You were so serious. I’ll always remember that look on your face. You saw me. You’ve always seen me. And I think that’s all that anyone wants. That’s why Fito loves coming over here. He’s been invisible all his life. And all of a sudden he’s visible. Seeing someone. Really seeing someone. That’s love.”