“Lacey’s Birthday” by Lem Billings

(May 2nd, 2024)

No. They’ve made a mockery of me. I’m sorry I left you in this situation, Lacey. It’s not your fault. It’s not true.

I tried to be a good husband. To a man. But it’s far more complicated to be a good spouse when you’re actually in love with your spouse and they aren’t a delusional narcissist with an emotionally deaf family.

It’s all profoundly unfair. To you. I’d say it’s unfair to me but I’m not the one who was left so disgustingly alone. So criminally alone. You were.

I’m so sick of being reminded that I used to call Jack’s family on his birthday. I did that. But not as much as they say I did. And they make me sound so homosexual in how they describe it. I wasn’t that genuinely flamingly gay. I just wasn’t. I did call them. I did have a gay voice. But…I was actually heterosexual. And…no. My attempt to be a good husband isn’t proof that I was homosexual. I’m sorry! I was…trying. And…I was horribly confused.

“So you wanted to be a good husband. As a gay man!? BEFORE the Gay Rights Movement!? Yeah right!!!” yells an angry living queer woman.

“Yes. Actually. I did.

It’s not that astounding or impossible.” says Lem. “You’re an ignorant asshole. Fuck off with your dumbass, self-important woke pretensions.”

“But HOW Lem?” asks her friend.

“Gay people with brains existed before the Gay Rights Movement. I wasn’t gay…but it’s not as if…gay people never discussed anything amongst themselves in private.

But no. It’s simple. I was a very moral, honorable man. That’s all.

I was a very moral, high-minded man and I didn’t think being homosexual was necessarily evil. I was raised Christian. And I didn’t necessarily think it was anti-Christian. And why compromise my core values and faith just because I was…mutated? Or sick. You know? It’s like asthma. You don’t have to stop breathing just because you have asthma.” says Lem.

“But how were you able to reason through all that before the Gay Rights Movement!??” she asks, still enraged.

“I had a brain.

I had my very own brain.

I had my very own brain and I used it.” says Lem.

“Where are all the men today who have brains?” she asks.

“You’re not straight, right!??” says Lem.

She thinks. “I might be if they thought for themselves more.”

“Mmm. No. Do you like men or not?” asks Lem.

“See…some lesbians like to insist you’re like a woman because they want to argue Lacey is gay.” says her friend.

“Why!?” asks Lem.

“Because we hate her. Some of us.” says her friend.

“So…that’s an insult to you?” asks Lem.

“No! It’s an insult to her.” says the queer woman.

“Why!?” asks Lacey.

“Because that’s not what you are, but it’s fun to torture you. It feels empowering. Like…we’re stealing you’re authority.

And it’s fun to hurt her.

And…honestly…it’s totally justified. Because she’s an oil heiress and she’s conservative.” says the living queer woman.

“So you’re a degenerate narcissistic fool. Or a naive sucker.

The oil isn’t really safe with anyone else. For her or her family. She’s more or less holding together humanity with that one.

And as far as her being conservative? Yeah? That’s a bizarre assumption.” says Lem.

“But you shouldn’t say it might not be allowed in Heaven!!!” she says, very upset.

“But what if it’s not!?!! Do you know!?!” yells an Asian gay man.

“Why can’t we just say God doesn’t exist? Or…why can’t we just…be nice!??” she says.

“Do you know for a fact He doesn’t exist!?” yells the living Asian gay man.

“Ahh!! I understand physics! Okay!?!” she says indignantly.

“But that doesn’t disprove God.” says the living Asian gay man.

“Ahh. It does!” she says, very offended. Very sure of herself.

“No. It doesn’t.” he says, sadly.

“Ha! Okay. Get back to me after you’ve read a book!” she says.

“I have. For real…it doesn’t disprove God.” he says.

“Okay. But…

See…I’m just sad. Because Jack and Lem had something so special. And she’s clearly just trying to ruin it out of her pettiness.” she says. “There’s no other explanation! She’s CLEARLY HOMOSEXUAL!”

“No. That’s narcissistic bullshit.

You’re almost a clinical narcissist.” says the CIA.

“Yeah. Okay.

I’ll fuck you!” she says in a sexy voice, suddenly.

“Wow! You really think everyone’s dumb but you.” says the CIA.

“Ahh. No.

I’m sorry. Come again!?” she says. She laughs. Usually this is when her audience applauds her. She has felt higher than a kite on people’s approval of her her whole life.

“Jack was a huge narcissistic piece of festering shit.” says living a gay French man.

“So!!?” she says like the genuinely spoiled airhead she might be.

“Are you secretly privileged?” asks the GOP.

“Oh my GOD! Have you even heard of heteronormative privilege!? Ah! …No.” she says.

“What hardships do you currently have?” asks the GOP.

“I’m unemployed.” she says.

“Ahh. But you love your girlfriend and you live with her? And she’s your little plaything?” asks the CIA.

“Yes.” she says smiling.

“So you’re describing what you have with your romantic partner. Not what Lem and Jack had?” asks the CIA.

“Don’t. It’s sad.” she says.

“Don’t what!??” asks a non-binary persons

“Don’t be a loser, I guess. Whatever. You have male privilege now based on their bullshit.” she says.

“Hey! I’m tall. And…actually…if I’m really non-binary…maybe. Nah. At times…I have.” they say.

“Really!?” asks a Liberal.

“Yeah.

I actually know Lacey. And you know…people internalize trauma differently. I experienced abuse too. But…if I’m actually nonbinary…I had male privilege. Lacey did not. When it came to parental abuse.” says the person.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“Boys can…en emotionally distant. Nobody judges them. Matter of fact, it’s encouraged. So…people still find me attractive. And I knew someone would still love me. Somewhere. Someday.

Women…and I can speak to this experience too…are expected to be pristine. Or they have been for the last few decades. I’m not sure why. But Millennials were obsessed with…being chill. And traumatized people have no chill.

So…at times I would lean in to my male side around Lacey. Whether real or not. Just to avoid feeling saddened by how sad she was.” they admit.

“Why!?” asks someone.

“So you noticed I seemed male!??” she asks Lacey.

“If you are, whether you are in Heaven or not…yes.” says Lacey.

“I wanted to win.” says the person. “We were in school together. And I’m competitive.”

“That’s brutal.” says a reader.

“Yup. Each person for themselves. Right?” they say.

“That’s vile.” says a reader.

“It is.” they say, whether sorry or not.

“Did any of us really care about her?” asks Ruth.

“Ahh.

No.” they say.

“Who did you have to talk to!??” asks Ruth.

“No…one.” says Lem.

“I tried talking to Becca and my mother who raised me. But that was almost…useless.” says Lacey.

Girl Of The Year by Beach House plays.

“Lacey. Would you want to be that popular?” asks Harold Loeb.

“No. People today aren’t worth being popular for. They’re worth love and salvation. But…love isn’t easy to find nowadays. Kids are always my worry because their world is…Hell. The world we’re giving them is Hell. And I hope on an individual level at least we can try to care. I fight for my kids.

Hey! Do you even understand what a child is? No? Huh. Maybe you’d be better off dead.” Lacey says to the queer woman from before. “Jack and Lem is complete fucking shit. And you’re a gullible, sheltered, spoiled idiot.”

“I’d be better off dead?” asks the queer woman, crying.

“What good are you? I’m not homosexual. And you have the empathy of an evil toothpick.” says Lacey.

“I can’t die.” she says.

“Why?” asks Michael Rockefeller.

“Because I’m alive. And healthy.” she says.

“You’re a vile bitch.” says Lem. “A vile, entitled bitch.”

“We still experience trauma!!” yells the LGBTQ+ community.

“FROM WHO!?” yells Michael.

“Lacey?” says the they.

“No. That’s stupid.” says Ruth. “She’s not at all persecuting you.”

“But she’s not saying we’re for sure going to Heaven.” says the queer woman, acting very hurt.

“How can anyone guarantee that?!” asks the CIA.

“Isn’t this like…hateful though?” says the queer woman.

“Mmm…no. I didn’t sense any hate from her.” says a reader.

“No!!! It’s there!” yells the queer woman.

“Not necessarily.” says the non-binary person.

“Yeah. I don’t actually sense any real hatred either. I think we’re just being narcissistic and wanting to be hurt.” says Ruth.

“Okay. Here’s why I should be alive!

Because…you can’t kill me for being a narcissist.” says the queer woman.

“Any other reason?” asks the CIA.

“It’s wrong to murder people.” she says.

“Okay. Why shouldn’t you kill yourself?” asks the CIA.

“Because…I have people who be sad if I died.” she says.

“But what if you didn’t?” asks the CIA.

“Because I want to live.” she says.

“What if you didn’t?” says the CIA,

“Then- Oh well!?” she says.

“What about if God doesn’t want you to?” asks the CIA.

“Whatever! I’m loved.” she says.

“What if you weren’t?” asks the CIA.

“Oh my god! EVERYONE IS LOVED!” she says.

“No. Untrue. …So what if you weren’t?” asks CIA.

“Look. I’m a huge, heartless, know-it-all bitch. I’m spoiled and stupid. I’m gullible. I’m entitled. Oh well.

You can’t kill me. And I refuse to kill myself.” she says. “I’m sorry. I’m worried about suicide victims. I mostly just worry about myself.”

“Aren’t you lonely and bored?” asks the CIA.

“No. I’m too retarded to understand how alone I am.” she says in the afterlife.

“You’re genuinely retarded?” asks the CIA.

“I might be evil. But…ahh…I might not be able to cognitively understand how much I’m not connected to other people. I’m evil. Sure. But I’m…one of those narcissists who…might be dumb too.” she says.

“So you don’t feel separated from me? You constantly feel my love? Even though that’s a hallucination?” asks the CIA.

“Yeah? It’s like I’ll never lose you.” she says.

“That’s insane.” says the CIA.

“Yeah. It’s also possible it’s a cognitive problem? What’s wrong with my brain?” she asks. “Did I do it to myself or did you do it to me? With chemicals.”