Cult Classic

by Sloane Crosley

“Everyone is living separate narratives. Marriage is agreeing to live in someone else’s narrative.”

Men do not like to entertain the idea that they have destroyed someone and so they behave as if they haven’t.

So many bloodless creatures who wanted all my blood, who offered nothing of themselves in return, who accused me of not “opening up” during the once every two weeks I was permitted to see them.

Men who didn’t think they were misogynists because they defended the actions of famous women. Or famous minority women. Or famous trans women.

Men who preferred missing me to being with me. Men who told me they were falling for me. It felt so good to say it, they’d figure out if they meant it later. But when later came, they were not falling. By God, they had tried. They detailed their efforts to the court. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client has made reasonable attempts. He has gone to great pains. He has texted when he did not feel like it. He has listened when he was bored. He has written down the birthday. Those were the worst of all, worse than the cheaters and the sociopaths. Because, as they stated their cases, they shook loose from the context in which I knew them.