To get the full story, start with EPISODE 1
I had never seen B look so small before. Maybe it was my imagination, but she looked slightly folded in on herself. It’s notoriously difficult for small things to look small because most of their energy is spent making the world around them fit their own size so you don’t notice any discrepancy. If anything, they end up larger than everyone else because, unlike all of those around them, they haven’t actually changed a bit. But this time the world had not had its ears boxed and told to be a good little girl. So it had just gone on with its usual liberated woman proportions and was by now probably considering burning its bra.
I wondered for a second whether it’d be humane… humane… whether it’d be better to just go over and give him a comforting lick. But I was afraid I’d look gay so I kept busy for the next half an hour or so, convincing myself of the virtues of suffering. For him. It builds up character, I told myself. No mollycoddling this mammal. And besides, licking is for pussies!
Then, by the time these arguments started to wear thin, I had drifted off to sleep.
That night I dreamed of Pantazia. We all have that one person in our life that brings irrefutable proof of our not being quite as smart and centered as we thought we were. Proof that each one of us is basically made of bits of broken code that just coughs up all the bugs you don’t want to know about when you’re trying to run something half decent.
Or I don’t know… maybe some people don’t have that sort of person in their life at all. Others again probably have more than one.
I had met Pantazia at the peak of my wanting to fall in love. Frankly, the fact that it was her and not anyone else is really just a freak accident. I knew from the start that being ripe for love is not just some empty expression. And much like ripe fruit, when it’s time to fall you fall into the arms of whomever is around at the time.
They say it takes two to tango. Caring, growing together as people, that arguably takes two. But that is the accounting department in the whole business of love. The glitzy bit is falling and falling hard. And that department can make do with just one idiot, thank you very much!
How could I explain my years drunk on love? Do you know how it feels to be on rations when it comes to serenity? You thought I’d say happiness rations there, didn’t you? I’m not a drama queen, for heaven’s sake! I won’t deny I had many moments of intense elation. Ever shed tears of joy. Seems like bouts of intense happiness are the gateway drug to sadness sometimes.