Bananapants

by Penny Reid

No. Wait. It wasn’t my Des. It was adult Des. Very adult Des. I’d never seen adult Des.

I hadn’t seen Ava Archer in ten years and yet I’d know her anywhere, didn’t matter if she called herself Chelsea or Samantha or Olaf.

“And I can’t leave until I grab my jacket.” “You can wear my jacket.

THIS IS GETTING GOOD

She was obviously still smart and strange, and far out of my reach, light-years away from any wishful thinking I’d given up on years ago. Incredibly frustrating that one single exposure impacted me this way. Where was my pride?

I wasn’t going to argue with her. I don’t argue with people. Why argue when I was going to do what I wanted anyway?

“Where’s that apron of apathy I bought you for Christmas? How about the insoles of indifference for your birthday, huh? What’s with this cardigan of curiosity? Take it off, it’s not your color.”

Did he really think there existed a possibility I’d have my own kids one day? The whole time we’d been standing here, I was measuring and counting my breaths, waiting for the antipsychotic to do its job.

“But should they? Isn’t that the real question? Just because a person can procreate doesn’t mean they should.”

I’ll tell you a secret: everybody goes through hard shit, Sherlock. Everyone on this planet stinks with it. But should the human race cease to exist? Should we give up on making babies because of something that might happen, at some point, later in life, or maybe not? There’s a difference between being responsible and being a whiny little bitch who’s afraid of making a single fucking mistake and therefore walks around feeling all superior because they never did anything to hurt nobody. Guess what, they probably never did anything to help nobody either. But they probably think those two things are the same.”

“She sees red flags as red carpets. Until some morally gray man in a three-piece suit finds her in the rain and gives her an umbrella, she’ll never be satisfied. We’re counting on you.”

“I’m trapped by my own reasoning abilities.” “It’s not reasoning abilities that are the problem. You’re afraid of doing anything that has the potential for embarrassment.”

me fr

“Some plants’ flowers bloom early, some bloom late, some plants have no flowers. It’s a spectrum, but all plants are important and good. It’s all good. You were a late bloomer.”

“But maybe he thought he was.” “What?” I snapped. “Maybe Des thought he was a burden to you.”

love des with all my heart 😔

I’m not saying it’s okay or that we should normalize suicide, I would never, never suggest anything like that.

I had to. For a shot with Ava, I had to try.

She won’t understand how I was, how I felt like every day was worse than the day before and I wanted the pain to end.

“As you’re aware, I’ve never had a girlfriend. Hell, I’ve never even been on a date.” Nor

i could cry rn

Instead, I counted each breath and cleared my mind, reminding myself that I had no control over what the old man said or did or thought.

When Patricia continued to study me without speaking, I lifted an eyebrow. “Patricia, is there something I can help you with?”

he's really so polite without trying

“But you don’t,” I said, careful to keep my words gentle so as to not upset the woman. It was amazing to me how easily people got upset about facts, so I always tried to be gentle when pointing them out.

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?” ― Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath

Why can’t you understand, I needed to feel pride in at least one part of my life in order to crawl out of the hole I’d been pushed into by my own brain. I needed to stop feeling so fucking helpless all the time!”

Why, if I was so damn smart, didn’t my grades reflect my intelligence?

Because he’s lazy. No word existed that I despised more than lazy. I wasn’t lazy. I’d never been lazy.

He was a line-in-the-sand kind of guy. My sand had no lines. They kept getting washed away by waves, and I’d accepted long ago there was no such thing as controlling the ocean.

“Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.” ― Vincent van Gogh, Attributed; The Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

Ava pulling my hair hadn’t been on my list of kinks, but it was now.

“But I might not be brave enough then.” “You are so brave. You’re the bravest person I know. I’m sure you’ll be brave tomorrow. Please. Tell me everything tomorrow. Okay?”

Please. God. I am not your strongest soldier.

“Desmond, as someone who loves you and knows you, I want to make sure you hear these words, because I never want you to doubt your own value, or what you bring to the table. You are not less than. You are, and always have been, greater than.”

Most people, you for example, they figure out how to date when they’re teenagers. I missed all that. I wouldn’t know how to start, how to ask someone out on a date, what to do for a date. What’s too much? What’s too little? Oversharing is a real temptation, but undersharing is just as risky.”

i feel u des

It’s all weirdos, trying to do their best, and looking like fools until they meet that person who makes them feel exceptional instead of foolish.”

“Seems fair. I can’t think when I’m looking at you.”

“Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created here on earth?”

Context matters. And the person matters. And context plus the right person made a huge difference.

“And don’t forget: I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.” — Notting Hill (1999)

If a person has never felt heartache, how can it be described in a way that makes sense?

“It’s all smoke and mirrors and pretending, honey,” she went on. “Everyone is in various stages of falling apart. All the time.” Stepping forward, she cupped my cheeks between her palms, like she used to do when I was little. “Some people are just better than others with their smoke and mirrors, and how often and how well they lie to others. And to themselves.”

It's amazing what a little bit of time buys, a little bit of caring about another person. Showing up mattered.

Ava had expressed excitement about visiting some pier or beach where a TV show called Goblin had been filmed. Apparently, I was supposed to give her flowers there and she would wear a big red scarf.

“The thing is, there’s good news. I’ve found contractors who come and help talk me through how to fix the problem spots. But they actually can’t touch the house, only I can. I have to fix it because I inherited the house. Meanwhile, they can point out where I’m being inefficient or if strategies that previously fixed Davis aren’t working anymore. Makes sense?”

If I’ve learned one lesson over the last year, it’s that no person and no life is a failure. You’re just doing your best, and sometimes your best is failing, but you have to keep doing your best, which ultimately means surrendering all your expectations except for the moments of joy.