I Wish You All the Best

by Mason Deaver

For a second, I remember what Mom told me that night. How God doesn’t want this. Mariam’s the only reason I can’t believe that.

Maybe I don’t love them; maybe they don’t deserve that love anymore. I think I might. And I think I might hate them too. One thing I do know is that I miss them. I don’t know why, but I do. I hate that I do.

But the more I stare at my body, the more I hate it. It’s the same feelings I had before I realized I’m nonbinary. Things just aren’t where they’re supposed to be, and I feel like I’m larger and smaller than myself at the same time. Like nothing adds up.