Falling Overboard

by Sariah Wilson

“You don’t understand. I need him biblically. Or as they say, in a way that will be concerning to feminism.”

“He seems like the kind of guy who would willingly sacrifice himself for the noble cause of female hedonism, right?”

“Have you tried not overthinking everything?” He was teasing me but I answered him seriously. “I have anxiety. I don’t have any other kind of thinking available to me.”

It had become apparent to me that she had no idea how hot she was, and I found that personally offensive.

“You’re not one of those guys who doesn’t eat sugar, are you? I don’t understand why people are so against it. Who was there for you when things went bad in your life? Comforted you? It wasn’t kale.”

“Do you like exercising?” he asked. I liked watching him exercise. Did that count? “I do crunches sometimes. Cap’n in the morning, Nestlé at night.”

Because I wanted to taste whatever it was that she was putting into her mouth and I recognized this was a very strange desire and so stayed quiet.

“You’re one of the people that make the universe mad. You beg it to give you a cake and it sends you eggs and oil and sugar and flour and puts you in a galley. But you’re running out of the room, upset that you didn’t get that cake you wanted. Everything you need is right in front of you, but you have to make some effort here. You asked to be happy and that was given to you.”

“What now?” I asked, exasperated. “Is she not having any success luring children into her gingerbread house?”

She’s melting down so much that some teenager is going to have to warn the United Nations about it.”

“If he puts his hands on you again, I’m going to choke him out.” Yep, definitely sexy. “No, you’re not. That’s felonious assault.”

“I kind of like your Neanderthal ways,” I said. “Oh yeah? Wait until I drag you back to my cave,”

“Things happen in life. People die. Relationships end. Heartache seems inevitable. But grief is the price we pay for love, and Lucky? It is a price worth paying.