Posts tagged ‘Love’
Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
My heart is the size of a whale—not a whale’s heart—an actual whale.
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Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
As he drove us to Aberdeen to meet a potential client, Carl philosophized: “The opposite of love isn’t hate, Angie.”
“Well, duh. I know that. But what is the opposite of love? I’ve thought about this often without coming close to an answer. It isn’t hate or even lust or rage or cruelty. What the fuck is it?!” I enjoyed sprinkling expletives into our dialogue because, as a Mormon, Carl would always squirm at least a little. At the time, I reveled in the fact that I wielded that kind of power over a man who’d never fuck me.
“Apathy.” Carl sighed. “When she told me she wanted a divorce, Karen explained she had simply ‘fallen out of love’ with me. Everyone thinks she was cheating, but it wasn’t that at all. She didn’t necessarily want to have sex with someone else. She just didn’t ever want to make love to me again.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.” What could I say? He hit the nail on the head: the opposite of love is apathy.
Carl’s profound insight forced me into introspection. I had endured the entire gamut of emotions in my current relationship, save for one. I was utterly incapable of feeling indifferent toward him. I would always be in love with him.
It suddenly made sense why he’d inspired both the meanest and sweetest poems I’d ever written.
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Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
David N. and I enjoyed exchanging dating horror stories as foreplay. On the precipice of afternoon delight, we rolled around under his sheets (never before had I experienced the feel of super high thread count).
“Oh my god, you won’t believe how my last relationship ended.” I rolled my eyes in reminiscence while clutching David’s shoulders.
“Probably not as badly as when Meredith torched my Beemer.” He smiled and tightened our embrace.
“I’m glad you have a sense of humor about it. I just don’t understand why you never pressed charges.”
“That would’ve meant I’d have to keep dealing with that bitch. And there’d be a public record of the shit she put me through.”
“Fair enough.”
“So what did that dick munch do anyway? Didn’t you tell me you thought he was The One at some point?”
“Nate seemed like a real catch. That is until he got back with his ex. And here’s the thing: I mean, you know I’m not superficial or arrogant . . . but this girl was like a three, maybe a four, soaking wet.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty fucking ridiculous. You’re at least a seven.”
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Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
I was attempting to work on the manuscript for Men Behaving Badly when Edgar showed up unannounced (as per usual). I never minded his spontaneous visits, and I didn’t realize—until it was too late—how much I looked forward to them. He plopped down in his usual spot on the futon.
“You know, Edgar, I misunderstood the saying that revenge is a dish best served cold.”
“Have you been reading Stieg Larsson lately?”
“I don’t just get these ideas from literature and film. Give me some credit, man!”
“I always do.”
“You’re right. But, yeah, I just figured out what it meant right before you came over.”
“What did you think it meant?”
“I used to think it meant that it’s best to avenge a wrong as ruthlessly and with as cold a heart as possible.” I paused pregnantly.
“But I just realized the coldness relates to the passage of time.”
“I think you’re right on both counts, actually.” Edgar nodded pensively. “Of course, if you want to get revenge through the justice system, coldness isn’t so desirable what with statutes of limitation and all.”
“Fuck statutes! What these guys have in store is extra-legal (but neither illegal nor violent…we have too much to lose, and we’re more creative than that). Their lives will transform overnight without the slightest notice. Just like mine did. But, unlike me, they will have no recourse.”
“Sounds delicious.” Edgar’s pupils dilated with interest. “It’s been over 10 years. When can we get started?”
“We already have.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sure it has something to do with sending Tex that letter reminding him he’d have to pass the Moral Character Evaluation to become an attorney.”
“Nope. That was just our public duty and has nothing to do with revenge. That’s why we sent it as soon as we discovered his plan to follow his father’s footsteps at Harvard Law School. Not part of the revenge. No need to serve cold. Hey, wanna drink?” I gestured toward the kitchen.
“Sure, thanks.” Edgar popped the cork off my half-full bottle of pinot noir. “So, what’s next with respect to revenge?”
“There’re some clean glasses in the sink.”
“Coolness.” Edgar split the remainder of the bottle between the two of us. “I’m all ears.”
“How far can you run without stopping? How much can you bench press, squat, or the equivalent?”
“I thought you just said this wouldn’t involve violence or criminality?”
“Oh, it won’t. We just need to be and look like we’re in tip-top shape. We just need to signal that we’re as formidable physically as we are intellectually and psychologically.”
“In that case, I’ve got my work cut out for me. But I’m game. Tell me more.” He raised his glass and smiled with boundless intrigue.
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Double Back Flip on Crappy Diving Board with Torn Meniscus
“Me doing a double back flip with a torn [meniscus] on a crappy diving board at Turner Falls in Oklahoma.”
-Alex Davis, July 28, 2008
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Excerpt from “Safe Mode”
Like a tulip shoved under a giant heat lamp, my upper body wilts beneath yet another wave of depression and grief. More than five years have passed since Lisa’s death, but I’ve become increasingly unable to withstand her absence.
I spend the next six hours coding, hoping this attempt to shed the blues (so blue it’s black) may result in productivity. I find myself humming a tune the oldies station hasn’t played in years:
Please lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
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Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
Having endured over 30 years of alternating waves of adversity and prosperity, I thought I had figured out at least a few things–particularly my sexuality.
While I appreciated the dynamic nature of sexuality, I also felt my sexual orientation had essentially congealed by that point. In other words, I thought I pretty much knew where I stood along the sexuality spectrum.
But the more I got to know Rachael, the more aware I became of the most painful irony: as my biological clock began to chime, I grew exponentially more attracted to women.
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Excerpt from “Under Pressure: The UCI Law School Musical”
NARRATOR: Law school, even “the ideal law school for the 21st century,” has a tendency to bring out the worst in people, particularly as finals approach (which basically applies to every day (except maybe during orientation). Although I made a lot of lifelong friends and opened many doors, law school became quite a struggle, especially during the final semester. The most common problematic themes I witnessed during my three-year stint were entitlement, lack of self-reflection, hidden insecurities, “Mean Girl” behavior, and . . . oh yes . . . greed.
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
BRAD: Thank you so much for meeting with me, Ricky. I really appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule.
RICKY: No problem! Actually, things are super chill this year, what with my federal clerkship and firm job taken care of. I don’t even bother to go to any of my classes. What are they gonna do . . . not let me graduate and help boost this school’s graduation rate and reputation?
BRAD: That’s exactly why I think you’re the guy to talk to. I mean, some of the 3Ls have positions with A-/B+ firms. But Remington, Orr, Young, Gibson, Boyd, Irving & Vance is an A+ firm.
RICKY: Well, you’re right about that. Quite frankly, I didn’t come to law school to work 80 plus hours a week for an A- or—God forbid—B+ firm. Besides, the A+ firms have the deepest pockets. [winks]
[dollar signs flash in BRAD’s eyes]
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Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”
“Edgar, I want you to be perfectly honest with me—do I emasculate the men I go out with?” I sat next to him on his sofa. I had just returned from another abortive attempt at dating.
“Not on purpose.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Wait, let me explain. To the extent that your actions or personality/aura make men feel intimidated or even emasculated, it’s not your fault. And I’m not saying they’re justified in feeling this way or responding problematically, I just think it’s something out of your control.”
“So . . . you’re saying I do emasculate them. This is all really ironic.”
“How so?”
“They feel emasculated, subordinated by me. And yet it’s out of my control.”
“Look, it just means you’re gonna have to have high standards. As you should. Here’s the thing: you are more woman than they will ever have and more man than they will ever be.”
I took a moment to process what Edgar, my seemingly gay best friend, had just said. “You’re totally right. Did you come up with that?”
“No, but I wish I had.”
“Well, it’s absolutely the kind of thing you would come up with. You’re the best! I love you so much, man!” I pulled his face toward mine and kissed him passionately on the cheek without thinking about how that might make him feel.
The Lollygabber 
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