Joanna Acevedo
Rule 1
On the first warm day of what will be summer, Michael has been dead for four months. I listen to Rico Nasty and bite my nails. I decide that the purple bag has the best Doritos, that the man I once called my boyfriend might be better as a best friend—but I’m not ready to come to any conclusions yet. I do not have words for what I feel, yet I feel it intensely. I hold my grief in my stomach like you would hold a peach stone in your cheek. I do not bite down. I do not chew.
The first rule of Fight Club, in the 1999 movie, Fight Club, is that you don’t talk about Fight Club. The club, however, is built on the intrinsic knowledge that someone will notice the bruises, black eyes, and other injuries on its participants and garner questions, which will lead to people talking about Fight Club, and thus, creating new members. It’s a reliable sales model—by selling nothing, building nothing, and offering nothing—other than self-destruction—Fight Club grows exponentially. It’s incredible what lengths people will go simply to dismantle themselves, brick by brick.
Fight Club’s premise is simple—beat the shit out of the person in front of you. Survive, or else, suffer. Maybe both. I can understand that. After Michael’s death, I plowed forward, unflinching, not stopping to see who or what I left in my wake. This is a dangerous way to live. I don’t know how to turn off the machine; I only know it’s running and I can’t downshift.
The first rule of Fight Club is, you don’t talk about Fight Club.
But today, with summer in the air, memories click by like sausage links. I sleep with my window open, inviting dreams to swirl into my second-floor apartment. On the night he died, I cried like an open wound, my edges raw and circling. Now, I see a doppelganger on the street, call his name, wave a hand. Then realize; it’s not him. I put down my wrist. Feel ashamed. Close my mouth.
Joanna Acevedo is a writer, editor, and educator from New York City. She is the author of two books and two chapbooks, and her writing has been seen across the web and in print, including in Jelly Bucket, Hobart, and The Adroit Journal, among others. She received her MFA in Fiction from New York University in 2021, and also holds degrees from Bard College and The New School.