I have often found myself needing someone to be anything but what they are. Knowing that no relationship can thrive under those circumstances, I abandon it. I think, they are where they need to be, and I cannot interrupt that process. This is different, this is terrifying. If Juliet does not change, neither does my life. I cannot be expected to love as two, and provide for all.
Here, I flicker like a night’s star that enchants the dreamer. Except, I am not a star. I am wild hair, a funny face, tiny hips, long fingers. So, let’s not say that these things happen. Let’s not say that it will all be well, because I sang that song once. Let’s not say, the blows will only add to my resilience. Future praise and a hero’s status mean nothing, except to those who desire immortality. If I ever did, it was never on these terms.
Sister and I would walk to school together. One morning, she asked if I would let her borrow my trick glass, so that she would have something for show-and-tell. It was this beautiful wine glass, filled with red liquid. When tipped over, the fluid would disappear. I bought it with my own allowance, at Party Corner, on Laurel Canyon Blvd. I felt so grown-up, after successfully resisting the temptation to buy ice cream.
Barely out of the house, sister tripped on something. The glass broke, and cut her right hand open. I thought she would bleed out, and die. I had never felt I loved my sister more than at that very moment. She has made it difficult to love her that much again.