My Darling Dreadful Thing

by Johanna van Veen

To never be free of someone, well, that’s not always a comfort.”

“Who dared do that to you?” I asked. Who must I hate? Who must I destroy?

“You know, you’re like a dog sometimes, Roos. You get kicked, and then you trail after the person who kicked you with your tail between your legs, trying to apologize and be forgiven, as if it were somehow right for them to kick you, when really you’re only a little dog.”

“No it doesn’t! It just means my brain is different from yours! If there was a pill that would make you unable to see colors, would you then think colors are just an illusion? Of course you wouldn’t! And I bet there are pills out there that could make you see spirits in the same way I can. So no, this doesn’t prove anything!”

And some things one just doesn’t talk about, not with anyone. Some things are so shameful, so painful, that we lock them away deep inside us and pretend they don’t exist.

“Must love be about suffering?” She looked at me with eyes so black, I wondered how she could even see. “How else does one show the strength and sincerity of one’s love if not through suffering and sacrifice?”

I smoothed a fold out of the sheets. They were cotton, freshly washed. “But I’m not happy. I’ve thought long and hard why that may be, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s something missing from my life, something dreadful, something darling. You see, I don’t think I can ever be truly happy without the company of my Ruth.”