“Comitted” by Ezra Fox
A buddy of mine, I don’t want to say his name, so let’s call him Keanu Reeves, once fell violently in love with a girl.
Keanu’s a good guy. He’s helped me move into and out of four apartments for artichoke pizzas and six-packs of Fat Tire. As far as guys go, he’s not bad-looking– one mole on his upper lip– but it adds character.
And he meets this girl, who’s a bitch, but I don’t want to unfairly bias the story, so let’s call her Princess Di. She’s a short redhead and I know everyone has opinions about redheads, and well, they’re all true.
Two months in and Keanu’s balls-deep in love with Di. He wants to do something special, and after clearing it with his doctor, he decides to give her his heart. He’d make do with a cow’s heart for the rest of his life. He’d probably become a vegetarian too, since cows usually are.
But Keanu doesn’t even blink. I try to talk sense into him.
“Dude, it’s too much pressure for two months in,” I say as we’re unpacking my apartment. “Give her a gallbladder. They symbolize friendship.”
“It’s gotta be a heart,” he says. “She already has a dozen gallbladders from her exes. No one needs another gallbladder. Hell, no one needs one.”
“That’s an appendix,” I say. “Hey, get her an appendix!”
“What good’s a gift that doesn’t mean anything when you give it away? It should hurt.”
“Well, it probably will,” I say, and we go back to the U-Haul for my twin mattress.
There are no surprises in this story. Keanu gave Di his heart for their two-month anniversary and she loved it. Then a month later summer ended and she went back to NYU to finish her Master’s. Of course Keanu thought they could make long distance work. Of course it didn’t work.
I could blame her, and I do, but it’s not all Princess Di’s fault. Keanu’s done this kind of thing before. He gave his pinkie toes to his kindergarten crush, Oprah. Eleanor Roosevelt, his high school sweetheart, got his right hand on their 6-month anniversary. She let him keep it, but technically it’s still hers. Sojourner Truth, a one-night stand, got offered his bone marrow as she was leaving his apartment.
“You could ask for it back,” I say about the heart. “She probably doesn’t even want it anymore.”
“Then she can throw it away,” he says. His movements are plodding and steady as he loads my twin mattress back into the U-Haul.
Copyright © Ezra Fox, 2011