Is She Really Going Out with Him?

by Sophie Cousens

When I was eight years old, I rode my bike into a wall. I was going down a steep hill and I couldn’t brake fast enough. I flew over the handlebars straight into the side of a house and banged up my face, chipped a tooth, and dislocated my collarbone. So, when people tell me something is “just like riding a bike,” I get wary. All I can think about is the potential for injury and that however cautious you are, you can’t account for all the other idiots on the road. Yet despite my misgivings, here I am, back on my metaphorical bike, having a drink in a bar on a Saturday night with a stranger I met online.

sometimes I think you use work or the kids as an excuse to say no to stuff. Stuff that feels scary because it might not work out.”

you don’t have to be good at something to find joy in it.

“How do you know if something is real?” I ask Loretta. “Does it feel real?” she asks, and I nod. “Is it putting a smile on your face?” I grin. “There you are then.” “Which of these do you think is real?” I ask her, pointing to two spoons in the cabinet in front of us. “That one,” she says, nodding toward the higher spoon. We check the answer behind a sliding panel. It’s the lower spoon that’s real. Loretta shrugs. “There are forgeries on people’s walls all over the world. If they like the art, it hurts no one. If they bought it for the value it holds to others, then maybe they’re valuing the wrong things.”

I found I liked having something that was just mine, that was nothing to do with my family.

We exchange a meaningful look, a bridge built over something that was broken.

“But when you’ve fallen in love with someone, you don’t have a choice. You choose them.”

“Don’t let life make you hard, Anna. It’s the soft, gooey middle that makes it all so delightful.”