Sirens & Muses

by Antonia Angress

How was it possible to love something so much when you were alone with it only to hate it as soon as other people saw it?

Apart from art, sex was the force majeure of her life. Even when she was a virgin, she’d felt it thrumming inside her: her desire and the desire she aroused in others.

so sure of their place in the world that they always let her be on top, always let her hold the reins, sit on their faces.

She’d felt this way about other girls before—brief, confusing infatuations that vacillated between attraction and jealousy, between wanting to touch the girl and wanting to be the girl, to slip inside her skin—but never this intensely. She’d never told anyone about these feelings, never acted on them. Her crushes on boys had always felt straightforward in comparison. Easier.

And that, she knew, was the most important thing: to care less than the other person did.

“Are you going to be okay, though?” And she’d said yes, because what other choice did she have?

Admitting to herself that she’d been in love would mean admitting to a greater loss than she felt capable of handling right now.