Dollface

"What is this?" He asked.

"Oh, that- um… you found that," I said.

"I did. Is it…"

"Oh, um… I don't know."

"You don't know."

"Nope!"

"This is mine."

"Well, you did give it to me."

"But this part, this is my hair, I never gave you that."

"Well… yes."

"I suppose it's needed to work?"

"Yeah."

"And do you… you know; or, well, what I mean is, what do you do with it?"

"Oh, um… it depends."

"It depends?" That was the first hint of emotion he'd shown, the rest of it was actually very calm, or, nonreactionary. Is that a word? I was actually kind of hopeful. You know, that maybe… well, I guess I figured he wouldn't be too okay with finding his voodoo doll, but I guess I didn't really prepare for this sort of scenario actually. By all means, it was never really supposed to be found by anyone.

"Um, what were you doing in here?" I tried to make it nonaccusitory. Is that a word? It didn't work.

"Here? Like in your house? Cos you invited me here, I didn't know I was supposed to shield my eyes from your room as I ya know, pass by on my way to the freakin restroom."

Maybe I'd left it out. To be fair, this was close to the time he was supposed to be here. But to be fair again, the other way, it was two days away. Or, no, one. It was like him to want to, I don't know, surprise me? Did he still do surprises? Not really surprises, actually. Or, he didn't think so anyways. I know him. He just does a thing and is all yeah I did this why not ya know? But to other people, it can surprise them, shock them a bit sometimes. That's okay. I know him. He'd come around to the doll. I just needed to handle it correctly.

"I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, I thought you would be here… later, I guess."

"So that's when you'd show me, or maybe you were planning on just keeping it a secret."

I looked away. I didn't want it to go like this, I didn't want him to be angry. All the times we talked he was never angry. I thought seeing each other would start with a hug. It's not like I could get rid of it.

"Well, I don't know how to, you know… undo it. Like, without hurting you."

That worked. His temples softened, he looked away. Then back at the doll in his hands.

"When you hold it-"

"Him." Why did I do that? I could have just let him go on, and he looked surprised, but not angry anymore. Which was good. "I mean, it is you, too."

"You hold him by his left arm don't you?"

I looked at the doll, he was right. So it did work. I mean… I figured it did, but I didn't really have confirmation, not all the time, anyways. Hard to tell if he's reacting to it or something else when we did video calls. I nodded. He fiddled with it a bit, probably trying to feel it.

"You can't use him on yourself, it won't work. Someone else has to do it. I don't know. Maybe it won't work now that you know about it? I didn't read much about it."

"Didn't read much about it. Playing with my safety and you didn't read up on it." He was back to the calm tone he usually had… practiced. He practiced that tone. I know him.

"Well it… it wasn't really meant for… to be actually real anyways. He was more for, um… you know… me."

He was silent for a bit. He had his calm facade, but I saw past Those details. I know him. He was processing, I could see his gears turning, then they clicked into place, and I saw him understand.

I needed him. And he hadn't been there, but I still needed him. Even when there were others.

He turned the doll over in his hands a few times, "This is really intricate. He has all the fingers."

"You have all your fingers."

"He has balls?"

I might've blushed, "So do you."

"No toes though."

"You know how I am about feet."

He nodded. Set it on my dresser. That's where it had been, I remember now. I set him up to watch, like I would do on our video calls, only we hadn't done a video call that morning. I was rushed a bit for work, probably forgot him sitting there. Or, well, I must have, since he found him there.

"So," he put his hands in his pockets, he wasn't ready to see me yet, "back to: what do you do with him? I know you said it depends, just a short list."

This made me uncomfortable. It shouldn't have, the doll was him, and he was standing right in front of me, so it should've been easy. At that moment though, I realized it wasn't really really him, and I felt voyer-ish, like everything I'd done to him, I mean, the doll, had been done to him while sleeping or something. "Um, I dunno. I sleep with it, mostly. I like to trace my fingers along its arm. Sometimes I pinch it a little, not hard or anything, just that thing you do with skin sometimes. Uh, I dunno, I've showered with it, um… I set him up like I do with my phone on our video calls. I dunno, sometimes he just stays in the drawer."

He nodded slowly, "So you've never, like, used needles on it or hurt it or anything like that?"

I shifted my weight, trying to think, did I ever do anything like that? Maybe in the beginning. "Uh, well… um…"

"Okay, so you have. I'm still here, so it's fine. I'm just curious, I wanna know if I've felt it."

Those words. Fine. Curious. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, still waiting. I could see it in his eyes, all he wanted was the truth, some honesty. I know him. "Okay, so, I've never wanted to kill you or, like, permanently harm you you know? I got it from my grandma right after we, um… you know. So I was a little upset. And I get upset sometimes, you know that. And sometimes I'd get upset with you. I don't know, I've thrown him before. I've sat on him. I used to squeeze his wrists really hard. I've never put pins in him, I was always too scared to do that. Most of the time it's just yelling at him or crying on him. I'll bite him sometimes. I-" I almost told him about the time I peed on it a little, but it was just one time, and as I'd been telling him the list, it was feeling weirder and weirder, so I decided to stop, and I could feel some mistiness behind my contacts, so I looked away. He took his hands out of his pockets finally, and wrapped me in a hug. I felt swallowed by his arms and chest, he was warm, and he wrapped his own universe around my body and shut out the entire world. Everything we'd just talked about, it didn't matter. All that time away, it didn't matter. Every time I'd done anything that made me feel guilty, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing existed. Nothing ever existed. Existence was this warm, cozy pressure with a rhythmic pulse, and there had never been anything else. I spent a lifetime there, suspended in a comfortable state of numb timelessness.

The warmth and pressure slowly subsided, and I was confused at first at the sight of a foreign alien world, then realized it was my room. He was standing in front of me, holding my shoulders gently. What had we just been talking about? I don't remember, we never talked about it again.